Mercy (Buchanan-Renard #2)
Page 39And damned if she didn’t kiss him again. Theo could feel his control slipping. He abruptly pulled back and lifted her off his lap.
She leaned against the desk in case her legs gave out. Lord, could he kiss, and, oh, how she loved the taste of him. Disheartened, she realized she loved everything about him. His calm, take-charge attitude . . . his self-confidence. He was so comfortable in his own skin, so sure of himself. When he was afraid, he didn’t hide it the way her brother did. He was so secure he didn’t care what other people thought.
Michelle admired that trait most of all.
She took a deep breath and headed for the ER. Pushing the swinging door open with the flat of her hand, she went into the hallway. Theo was right behind her.
“You’ve got the sexiest walk,” he told her.
“Didn’t you read the sign?”
“What sign?”
“No flirting in the hospital.”
He relented. “Okay,” he agreed. “We’ll start searching for the package in the emergency room first,” he said, suddenly all business again. “I noticed on our way in that it wasn’t busy, so now is the perfect time. I’m going to get some of the staff to help.”
“I’m going to sew you back together first.”
“No, Michelle, I want —”
She turned around and walked backwards as she said, “Theo, I’m in charge here. Deal with it.”
The shower had revitalized her, but she knew the burst of energy she was feeling was going to be short and the lack of sleep would eventually catch up with her. For that reason she wanted to get the more important task finished. Theo came first whether he wanted to or not.
She was also feeling relaxed and sure of herself again. She was on safe ground at the hospital and knew that she and Theo could let their guard down here. No one would be shooting at them. There was safety in numbers. She thought it might be a good idea if they slept at the hospital and was going to suggest it when Theo turned her attention.
“Slow down,” he demanded. “Who do I talk to about getting personnel to start looking?”
“Those people have jobs to do.”
“This is a priority.”
“You could call the administrator. He’s usually here by eight, and it’s almost that now, but he’s not going to cooperate with you. He doesn’t like anything disrupting routine.”
“Tough,” he said. “He’ll cooperate. You’re practically running. Slow down,” he said once again.
“You’re dragging your feet. Are you afraid of a couple of stitches?” The possibility made her smile. “Scared I’ll hurt you?”
“No, I just don’t like needles.”
“I don’t either,” she said. “I faint every time I see one.”
“That’s not funny, Michelle.”
She thought it was and laughed. Frances, the nurse of the perpetual frown, was standing outside one of the exam areas. She pulled the drape back. “Everything’s ready, Doctor.”
Michelle patted the exam table while the nurse raised the head so Theo could lean back. He sat down, his attention on Michelle now as she put on a pair of sterile gloves. The nurse distracted him when she came at him with a pair of scissors and took hold of his T-shirt. He reached over and pulled the sleeve up over his shoulder. While she swabbed the skin around the cut with a strong-smelling disinfectant, he picked up his cell phone and started dialing.
“You can’t use that cell phone in the hospital,” Frances told him, and tried to snatch the phone out of his hand.
He wanted to say, “Back off, lady,” but he didn’t. He turned the phone off and put it on the exam table next to him. “Get me a phone I can use.”
He must have sounded hostile. Though it didn’t seem possible, Frances’s frown intensified. “He’s an irritable one, isn’t he, Doctor?”
Michelle was working at the corner with her back to Theo, but he knew she was smiling. He could hear it in her voice when she said, “He needs a nap.”
“I need a phone.”
Exasperated, he said, “Make this quick. We’ve got things to do.”
He didn’t flinch as she injected the lidocaine. “This should be numb in a minute. Would you like to lie down?”
“Would it make your job easier or quicker if I did?”
“No.”
“Then I’m fine. Go ahead and start.”
Frances had returned with a clipboard and papers. She’d obviously heard Theo tell Michelle to get started.
“Young man, you shouldn’t rush the doctor. That’s how mistakes are made.”
Young man? Hell, he had to be older than she was. “Where’s a phone?”
“Relax, Theo,” Michelle said as she motioned for Frances to move the tray closer to her side. “I’m not going to hurry.” Then she smiled and whispered, “Someone told me that if you want something done right . . .”
“What?”
“You have to be slow and easy. It’s the only way.”
In spite of his irritability, he had to smile. He wanted to kiss her, but he knew the nurse from X-Files would probably try to deck him if he did.
“Frances, are you married?”
“Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”
“I was thinking Michelle should hook you up with her brother, John Paul. You two have a lot in common.”
“Doctor, we don’t have paperwork on this patient,” she said curtly.
“Where’s my phone?” Theo asked.
“He’ll fill out the forms after I’m finished,” Michelle said.
“That isn’t proper procedure.”
“I’m gonna count to five. If I don’t have a phone in my hand by the time I’m finished, I’m getting off this table . . .” Theo warned.
“Frances, please bring Theo a phone.”
“There’s one on the wall,” she pointed out.
“But he can’t reach it, can he?” Michelle sounded testy now.
“Very well, Doctor.”
Frances delegated the task to Megan, who was leaning over the nurses’ station flirting with a paramedic.
The phone was an old-fashioned desk model. Megan unclipped the wall phone outlet, snapped the plug in, and handed the phone to Theo. “You have to dial nine to get outside.”
Michelle had finished cleaning the wound and was ready to begin stitching. “Quit squirming,” she told him. “Are you trying to get Noah again?”
“I want to talk to the administrator first and get us some help. If we have to tear this place apart, that’s what we’re going to do. I want to find that package.”
“I’m the one who has to look . . . maybe you and one other person could help. If you have everyone searching, I won’t know where they looked and where they didn’t. Let me look around the ER and the surgical floor before you call in reinforcements.”
“Because any mail I don’t pick up down here is sent up to surgical. All the surgeons have cubicles upstairs, and that’s where they drop our mail.”
“She’s right,” Megan said. “I’ve taken lots of mail up. I go upstairs at least twice a day. I try to be helpful.” Then she added, “There’s a really cute tech up there. I’ve been trying get him to notice me. I’ll help you, Dr. Mike. Nothing much is happening in the ER, and Frances will page me if she needs me.”
“Thanks, Megan.”
“No problem. What am I helping you do?”
“Find a package that was delivered by the Speedy Messenger Service.”
“Oh, we get lots of packages.”
“Michelle, honey, are you almost finished?” Theo asked.
“Wooo! He just called you honey,” Megan crooned.
“Megan, you’re in my light.”
“Sorry, Doctor.” As she stepped back, her gaze bounced from Theo to Michelle and back again. “So what’s the deal?” she asked in a whisper.
“Why don’t you start searching through the desks and cabinets down here while Michelle finishes this,” Theo ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
“Be thorough,” Michelle said without looking up.
The second Megan pulled the curtain closed, Michelle whispered, “You shouldn’t have called me honey.”
“Did I undermine your authority?”
“No. It’s just that . . .”
“What?”
“Megan’s sweet, but she tells everything, and I can only imagine what the gossip will be tomorrow. They’ll have me barefoot and pregnant.”
He tilted his head. “The pregnant part . . . that’s a nice image.”
She rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake.”
He smiled. “A woman who could breeze through a snake crawling up her leg can handle a little gossip. You’re tougher than you look.”
She focused on the task at hand. “One more stitch and I’m finished. When did you have your last tetanus shot?”
He didn’t miss a heartbeat. “Yesterday.”
“So you hate shots too, huh? You’re getting one.”
He reached across to touch her cheek. “You get flustered when I tease you, and you get embarrassed with compliments. You don’t know what to do with them, do you?”
“Finished,” she announced. “You’re back together again, Humpty-Dumpty. Don’t get up yet,” she quickly added when he moved. “I’m finished. You’re not.”
“What does that mean?”
“Bandage and shot.”
“How many stitches?”
The curtain parted as Michelle was removing her gloves. Megan interrupted. “Dr. Mike, there’s a detective from New Orleans wanting to talk to you and your boyfriend.”
“He’s a patient,” Michelle snapped, and too late realized she shouldn’t have said anything. She’d sounded defensive, which, of course, only fueled Megan’s overactive imagination.
Megan pulled the curtain back. “This is Detective Harris,” she said.
The woman was tall, strikingly attractive, with an oval face and piercing eyes. As she strode forward, Michelle could see the lines at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. Dressed in a pair of black pants, sensible black shoes, and a pale blue blouse, she moved toward Theo. When she extended her hand to shake his, Michelle noticed the badge and gun clipped to her belt.
Harris didn’t waste time on preliminaries. “I want to hear exactly what happened last night. Chief Nelson filled me in on what went down, but I want to hear your version.”
“Where is Ben?” Michelle asked.
“He went back to your house to finish sweeping the crime scene.” She gave Michelle a cursory once-over before continuing. “I’ll take whatever he bags back to the lab in New Orleans.”
Theo studied Harris while she talked to Michelle. The detective was like a thousand other police officers he’d known. There was a weariness about her as though she’d been exhausted most of her life. Her attitude was brittle and hard.
“How long have you been with the department?” he asked.
“Four years in homicide,” she responded impatiently. “Three years with vice before the transfer.”
Ah. Vice. That explained it. “So what brought you to Bowen?”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll ask the questions.”
“Sure,” he said agreeably. “Just as soon as you answer mine.”
Her lip curled in what Theo thought might have been an attempt at a smile. “If Nelson hadn’t already told me, I would have guessed you were an attorney.”
Theo didn’t respond to the comment. He simply waited for her to answer his question. She tried to outstare and intimidate him, but she lost on both counts.
With a sigh, she answered, “I got a tip . . . a good, reliable, inside tip that a hitter I’ve been trailing for three long years is setting up here. I was told he’s in Bowen to do a job, and, I swear to God, I’m going to get him this time.”
“Who is he?”
“A ghost. At least, that’s what some of the guys in homicide call him, because he vanishes into thin air every time I get close. According to my informant, he’s calling himself Monk these days. I’ve put him with two murders in New Orleans in the past year. We’re pretty sure he killed a teenager in Metairie, and we think the girl’s father paid for the hit so he could collect insurance, but we can’t prove it.”
“How do you know it was Monk?” Theo asked.
“He left his calling card. He always does,” she explained. “My informant is close to Monk, knows his routine. He told me that Monk leaves a long-stemmed red rose as proof that he did the job. He always makes the murders look like accidents or suicide, and in every case I’ve been involved in, someone benefits from the death.”
“A father had his child killed so he could get money?” Michelle rubbed her arms as though to ward off a chill. That a father would do such a monstrous thing was staggering. She felt sick to her stomach. That poor child.
“The rose was missing from the girl’s bedroom,” Harris continued. “But there was one petal, still uncurled, half under the dresser. On another case, the crime unit found a thorn stuck in the bedspread. Monk does most of his work at night when his victims are sleeping.”
“Who was the victim in the second case you mentioned?” Theo asked.
“An old man, a wealthy grandfather whose only relative had a heavy drug problem.”
“From what you’ve told me about this man,” Theo said, “it doesn’t seem his style to work with others. He sounds like a loner.”
“Until now, he has acted alone, but my gut’s telling me he was at the doctor’s house last night.”
“If he was involved,” Michelle said, “then he must be after the package. Maybe there’s something inside that will incriminate him or the person who hired him.”
“What package?” Harris asked sharply. She looked as if she was about to pounce on Michelle for withholding information.