“Indeed, I can.” Alexei bowed slightly to the bride.
“Stef, you helped Alexei get his citizenship?” Holly asked.
“You must have paid through the nose for that, Talbot,” Caleb said, well aware bitterness was dripping from every word. “There’s a nice long wait usually.”
“The government was very happy with all the help Alexei gave them with organized crime,” Stef explained. “I only had to grease the wheels a little.”
“Well, hell,” a new voice said. “Alexei. Did the aliens finally let you go? They kept you for an awfully long time.”
Mel Hughes stood in the middle of the dance floor looking utterly incongruous in a white polyester tux that had to have been handed down from the Bee Gees. Of course, he couldn’t be without his lucky trucker hat and the tinfoil that kept the aliens from attacking his brain. Mel was a kook, but a lovable one. He only went slightly insane a couple of times a year, and Caleb had tranquilizer darts perfectly dosed for Mel’s height and weight. He kept them in his truck. He’d thought about using them on Max Harper from time to time, but he worried it would take more than horse tranquilizer to change Max’s attitude.
“No aliens, sir. Only Federal Marshals.” Alexei moved closer to Holly, stepping in like he was her date. “They were very kind to me.”
Mel’s face crinkled, but he shook his head and patted Alexei on the back. “I’m real glad to hear that, son. Now, can I talk to you, Doc? We got an emergency.”
Caleb felt a part of him relax. Thank god. Someone was dying, so he didn’t have to deal with his suddenly out-of-control love life. He looked over at Holly.
“Go,” she urged him. “I’ll be fine.”
He nodded and started to walk away with Mel. He grabbed his bag from the table he’d been assigned to. He never went anywhere without the small leather bag his father had given him when he’d graduated from Johns Hopkins University.
He glanced back to where Holly stood, surrounded by friends. Of course Holly would be fine. What did she really need with him? For the last week, she’d needed him. Bliss had played host to a serial killer, and no woman in town had been left alone. Caleb had spent several sleepless nights on Holly’s sofa thinking about the fact that he could have been in her bed if he wasn’t such a complete freak. He had seen it in her eyes when she’d told him good night. She would have accepted him. Hell, she’d been hurt that he didn’t make a move on her. That had made his heart ache.
How would Holly have taken it if she’d made love with him only to discover he couldn’t sleep in a bed? The list of things he couldn’t do had driven him out of Chicago. It would cost him Holly, too.
“Poor bastard,” Mel said, shaking his head as he looked back at Alexei. “He doesn’t even know he got taken. It happens that way sometimes. You should check him out, Doc. I got a very distressing memo about some new experiments the Reticulan Grays are performing concerning male pregnancy. We wouldn’t want that poor Russian fellow to find himself incubating an alien.”
He wondered if Holly would reject Alexei if he became the first of a crop of male mothers. Probably not. She was an awfully tolerant girl. “What’s the emergency?”
Mel frowned. “It’s Cassidy.”
Nope. No one was dying. Cassidy Meyer was a classic hypochondriac with a bit of Chicken Little syndrome. And she believed in aliens. Cassidy was a one-stop mental disorder shop. And she was a very nice lady.
“Hemorrhagic fever or bird flu?” Cassidy had gotten over the plague several weeks before. It shouldn’t come up again so soon.
“Oh, it’s the Ebola again. It’s the third time she’s had it, Doc.” Mel shook his head. “The aliens just ruined her immune system, I guess.”
Caleb knew that if his colleagues were in his position, Cassidy Meyer would find herself on a seventy-two-hour mental health hold, but Caleb had long ago learned that sometimes tolerance best served his patients. Cassidy wasn’t a risk to herself, and the sweet lady wouldn’t hurt a fly. She simply believed she’d had a couple of alien babies and routinely got some of the world’s worst infectious diseases. As the CDC had stopped coming out when she called, Caleb was the last line of defense between Cassidy Meyer and the brutally cold world.
Besides, he owed her son his life. In more ways than one.
Wolf sat next to his mother, his large hand holding hers. He patted her back with his free hand, an amused look on his face. “Doc, we’re glad you’re here. Ma’s organs are liquefying as we speak.”
Cassidy looked up at Caleb, her hands shaking just a bit. “My hands are numb, Doc. I’m afraid my son is right. It’s going to get me this time. I think my liver just went. I feel it.”
Caleb took her pulse. It was strong. “Let me get something ready for you, sweetheart. I can fix you right up.”
“You can stop the Ebola?”
Caleb smiled. “I can stop the Ebola, no trouble. And what I’m going to give you has the added effect of keeping aliens away for a while, but you need to come in once a week. Can you do that for me?”
Cassidy’s eyes lit up, a sure sign that no hemorrhagic fever had invaded Bliss. “I sure can, Doc.”
Caleb stepped away, allowing Mel to lean down and hold her hand while Caleb gestured to Wolf to join him.
Wolf Meyer was a big, bad Navy SEAL, or he had been until a few months before when he’d been forcibly discharged after injuries taken in battle. He was a rough son of a bitch, but he was also a loving son.
“Has she been taking the B-12 I gave her?”
“Not unless she took it with her into the bomb shelter she and Mel have been holed up in. On the plus side, she managed to knit caps for everyone in town and a baby blanket for Paige Harper. Oh, and she perfected her Crock-Pot stew. Expect to get a big batch next week,” Wolf said.
Cassidy Meyer tried to take care of the people around her. It was only right that someone looked out for her, too.
“Her blood work showed she’s anemic. The numbness in her hands is a function of her vitamin deficiency. Injections will be easy for her to absorb. Once a week should do it. If she forgets, I’ll find her. Don’t worry about it, Wolf. She’s really quite healthy.”
Caleb reached into his bag. He’d known this was probably coming. Bliss had been up in arms for a week over the Marquis de Sade case. It had been a good bet Cassidy had been ignoring her health. He kept a good supply of B-12 on hand not only for Cassidy, but also for the vegans.
Wolf shook his head. “You’re the most frustrating man I know.”
Caleb measured out the proper dose of B-12 in a hypodermic needle. “I’m not known for my bedside manner.”
He was actually. He was known for having a perfectly horrific bedside manner. He couldn’t even blame it on the PTSD. He’d been a gruff bastard before his world had turned upside down.
Wolf groaned. “That wasn’t what I was talking about, Doc. I was talking about how you’re handling the train wreck occurring right in front of our eyes. Are you really going to let that man waltz away with your girl?”
Caleb pulled the needle back out, squirting up to make sure all the air was out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Holly isn’t mine.”
“But she could be. You can’t tell me you don’t want her.”
What he wanted didn’t matter. Did it? Could he do it? He closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was hard to ignore Wolf. “I think it’s for the best. I can’t have a normal relationship with her.”
When Caleb opened his eyes, Wolf was staring at him in that “dumbass just said what?” way of his. “Normal doesn’t mean a damn thing here. No one is going to ask you to leave here, Doc. Bliss is your home. The people here love you for everything you do for them. And they don’t give a crap about your bedside manner. Do you know how many doctors have tried to get me to put my mother in a home?”