“Anytime. But don’t screw this one up, Deke. I like Rachel.”
Deke grunted. “So do I.”
Georgia snapped her fingers, as if suddenly remembering. “That John Doe who was shot and burned. Ballistics just came back. The bullet that killed him was fired from the nine-millimeter Beretta you found at the scene.”
Alex rubbed a thumb and index finger together as he thought. “Left the murder weapon at the site. Why?”
Georgia shrugged. “That’s your gig, bro.”
Deke looked at Alex. “I’m calling the lab and doing some leaning regarding the DNA on that victim as well.”
“Lean away, brother,” Alex said.
“Show them who’s boss, bro,” Georgia coaxed.
“Smart-ass.” Clutching his file, Deke left.
Georgia leveled her gaze on Alex. “I thought you kinda liked Leah.”
Alex studied his sister, unwilling to admit to any feelings. “What makes you say that?”
“I know you well enough. You wouldn’t have asked her out just for a case.”
He didn’t answer.
She shook her head. “Alex, I’ve no doubt you can lock away the emotions and do your job, but you need to be careful. One day you’re going to look for the key to those emotions and you won’t be able to find it.”
Thoughts of Philip stalked Leah all afternoon as she finished her afternoon appointments by five. She moved to the front desk, where a large tabby cat named Felix lounged. He was Dr. Nelson’s cat and visited from time to time.
Leah scratched Felix between the ears and handed the last chart to Gail as an elderly couple with a fifteen-year-old terrier left through the back door. Glancing out the window, she searched the lot for any signs of a car that didn’t belong or a person who stood a little too long in one spot. She saw nothing.
Gail accepted the chart. “How is Misty doing?”
Leah could almost hear the wheels in her head screeching and groaned as she forced her thoughts to change direction. “Surprisingly well. The Smiths are committed to giving her insulin shots each day and keeping her on a modified diet.”
“They do love that dog. I’ve been here ten years and remember when they brought her in as a puppy. They lost their son last year and I think losing Misty is just too much for them right now.”
“I can’t imagine losing a child.” She smoothed her hand to her flat belly. Philip had talked about having a baby often. Though she hadn’t had the strength to leave at first, she’d known for damn certain bringing a child into the mix would be dead wrong.
As the Smiths drove off, she spotted a black truck parked in the lot of the strip mall across the street. The windows were tinted, making it impossible for her to see inside. Had the truck she’d seen at the park have tinted windows? That was the kind of thing she should remember. Details were important when she documented her days in her journal.
Gail’s dark brows rose and she rested a hand on her full hip. “You’ve never had a pet?”
Leah pulled her gaze from the truck. “I had a black Lab as a kid. She was a great dog. She died right before I left for college.”
“That’s a long time ago. I’d think by now you’d be ready for another dog. You know Dr. Nelson would be fine with you bringing it to work.”
“I know. And maybe I will one day.” She’d avoided pets since Philip. She’d feared what he’d do to it if she had one. And now Alex thought Philip could be alive. Shit. She couldn’t dare risk loving anything now.
“A few new kittens arrived. All strays. Six or seven weeks and very cute. They’re in the kennel in the back.”
Knowing she wouldn’t take any of them, she said, “I’ll check them out.”
“While you’re back there, have a look at the post-op cases. We have the broken leg, two neuters, and a female Dr. Nelson is going to spay in the morning. The owner dropped the dog off while you were in surgery. She’s sweet, and I know she could use a walk.”
“Sure. I’ll have a look.” Leah headed back to the kennel, where she found her patients. Most were still dazed from surgery and lying in the corners of their cages. The dog, however, saw her, barked, and tucked its tail.
Leah moved to the cage and, taking a leash from the wall, opened the cage and took it from the wall. She checked the dog’s chart. “Charlie, how’re you doing?”
The dog’s tail relaxed at the sound of her name but she kept barking. Laughing, Leah hooked the leash to the dog’s collar and took her out the back door. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Charlie.”
The afternoon air was warmer, the sun bright, but a snap of cold in the air triggered a shiver. She led the dog to a patch of grass behind the clinic. The dog sniffed and calmly looked up at her.
Leah shivered. “Come on, girl, let’s get the job done. I’m not wearing a fur coat.”
The dog wagged her tail and then dropped on her hind legs to pee.
“Bless you.”
To give the dog extra exercise, she led her around the front of the building. She glanced toward the parking lot and noticed that the black truck was gone. “It was a damn truck in a parking lot. You don’t need to freak out because it had tinted windows. Alex is wrong. Philip is dead.”
The dog looked up at her and wagged her tail.
Leah shrugged. “Dog, if you got to know me better, you’d realize I worry about everything. I write down all the crazy details of my day because I can’t stop worrying.”
The dog cocked her head.
She knelt down and rubbed the dog between the ears. The dog licked her face and she laughed. Moments like this, she’d give anything to cut Philip from her past. She wished she could go back in time and be distracted just long enough so that their first meeting never took place. She wished.
Leah rose and guided the dog back in the front door, welcoming the heat. She took Charlie back to her crate, filled her food and water bowls, and patted her on the head before she closed the crate.
She spent the next half hour examining the other patients, who were all recovering nicely.
It was after six by the end of her shift. Gail had closed the front office, shut off the lights, and locked the front door. Alone in the clinic, Leah shoved aside a feeling of unease. Her skin prickled and her belly tightened, as if someone was staring at her. Watching from the shadows, like Philip used to do.
She went into her office, checked her cell phone, and immediately noticed she’d received a voice mail from the South Carolina detective. Her nerves jangled as she checked the message. “Mrs. Latimer.” The moniker had her gritting her teeth. “I’ve been traveling and just got your voice mail message today. Your husband’s death investigation was an open-and-shut case. We have no reason to reopen it. I received an inquiry from a TBI agent and forwarded my files to him. Again, we ruled this an open-and-shut case.”
Leah waited, expecting a “Call me if you need more information” or “I’m here to answer your questions.” Neither came. Clearly, the detective had better things to do than answer her questions.
Leah sat down in her darkened office and replayed the message. Nervous energy snapped through her as she tried to imagine, if Philip were alive, where he would be. If he’d been alive these last four years, she’d had no sign of him, or any real hint that he was out there stalking her. The creepy, tingling kind of feeling she used to get when he stalked her had returned a couple of weeks ago, but she’d chalked it up to nerves, a new home, even the New Year’s resolutions that forced her out of her comfort zone. There’d been plenty of reasons for it not to be Philip.
Unable to sit, she rose and grabbed her coat and purse. Keys in hand, she left by the back door, which locked behind her. She crossed the parking lot, glancing into the deep, dark shadows and the backseat of her car before she slid inside, and immediately locked the doors. She switched on the ignition and started driving. The idea of going home to darkness and solitude triggered more tension, so she opted to drive to the mall, full of bright lights and people.
She parked in a well-lit spot and hurried through the cold. She entered through the food court and was immediately drawn to a table of teenage girls who were laughing over a pizza and Cokes. Near them, a mother fed her two toddlers chicken nuggets, while several tables over, an elderly couple ate Chinese food.