Everywhere She Turns (17 page)

Lusk shoved the drawer shut. “And you want me to help you?”

“Actually,” CJ said, following her back down the corridor, “I would be helping you. I can work the same day as you, so the clinic can see twice as many patients, or I can work a different day. Give you a day off. I would be helping you and the village residents.”

Lusk breezed into the exam room, gave the patient’s mother the samples. “Bring her back in two weeks if she isn’t greatly improved.”

The mother thanked Lusk over and over as she ushered her little girl out of the room.

Lusk placed the patient’s chart on the growing stack on the table in the corridor. “I’ve a good mind to say no,” Lusk warned, her gaze narrow with suspicion. “But I could use the help. There’s not enough time in the day to see everyone who needs medical attention. And I could get my preceptor to rush the paperwork through . . . if I was convinced of your sincerity.”

CJ knew where this was going. “This isn’t about the past, Juanita. This is about doing the right thing. I have to see this through. You don’t have to worry about me stepping on your toes. You’ll be the one in charge. I’m not planning to usurp your authority.”

The stare-off lasted another ten or twelve seconds. “You’re on.” She allowed CJ to see in her eyes just how serious she was. “But you fuck with me and you’re out. Do we understand each other?”

“Absolutely.”

Lusk grabbed the chart at the next exam room. “In fact, you can start right now. You’ll find what you need in my office.” She pushed her lips into a fake smile. “One good deed deserves another, right?” Lusk entered the exam room. “Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. What seems to be the problem?”

CJ located the office, left her bag, and donned a stethoscope. Getting on Lusk’s good side wasn’t a bad idea. Who knew? Maybe the woman would remember something Shelley had said that would make a difference.

Meanwhile, CJ would be doing what she loved most: taking care of people.

5:30
PM

CJ dropped the final chart on the mountain of others.

The last patient was out the door.

She stretched her back, rotated her neck.

“This is what I do every day,” Lusk said as she placed her final chart on top of CJ’s. “Not that different from what you do.”

The hint of a smile tilted one corner of CJ’s mouth. Maybe they would get along after all. “Just a little less blood.” Images from Saturday night . . . the kid . . . invaded her thoughts. A lot less blood.

Lusk glanced at the mountain of charts. “Thanks, Patterson.” She gestured to the pile. “I’ll be here for a while.”

“About the village clinic—”

“Tomorrow too soon for you?” Lusk grabbed an armful of charts. “Wednesdays would be a good day off for me. I’ll make sure the paperwork gets done ASAP.”

“Tomorrow’s great.” The sooner the better for CJ’s purposes.

Lusk jerked her head toward her office. “I’ll give you my keys. I’ll get duplicates made by Friday.”

Anticipation chased away CJ’s exhaustion. “That works.”

The keys were on a chain with several others. Juanita unhooked and handed three to CJ, stating which door each unlocked as she did. “I’ve annotated as many of the charts as possible as to the patients who shouldn’t be given barbiturates, opiate derivatives, stuff like that.” She gave CJ a knowing look. “You’re new; they’ll try to play on your sympathy.”

“I’ll stick with your notes.” CJ backed toward the double doors. “Just so you know, Baltimore hasn’t made me soft. I’m tougher than you think.”

“Go on. I’ll lock the door after you’re gone.” Lusk shook her head and shuffled into her office.

The receptionist had left already. The waiting room looked
like a tornado had come through. The few magazines provided for the patients’ entertainment were scattered about, along with coffee cups, soda cans, and various other discarded food wrappers and containers.

CJ pushed through the entrance and took a deep breath. As tired as she should feel, she didn’t. She felt exhilarated. She’d taken the first step toward putting her strategy into action.

“CJ Patterson, is that really you?”

She turned to face the man who’d called out to her. Dark hair . . . tall. Blue eyes.

A mixture of anticipation and irritation detonated in little consecutive bursts.
Carter Cost
.

Dr. Carter Cost.

The rich, gets-whatever-he-wants, womanizing shit.

Irritation won the battle.

“Carter.” Her tone sounded as icy as she’d intended it.

He noticed. “It’s been a long time.”

Not long enough. “It has. Well. I was on my way—”

Cost glanced at the clinic, then at her. “I was on my way in there.” He hitched a thumb toward the clinic. “I’m the preceptor here and for the clinic in the mill village. When Juanita called around noon and asked me to push through an authorization for you, I thought she was kidding me.”

CJ suddenly felt very sorry for Lusk. Not only had she missed out on completing the requirements to have an MD after her name, which she obviously deserved, but she had to work under the oversight of this guy. No wonder she had such a foul disposition.

Crap. That meant CJ would be stuck dealing with him.

“How long will you be in town?”

CJ snapped back to attention. “A few weeks, probably. My sister—”

“Oh, God.” Sympathy flashed in those big eyes, which at one time had tugged on her heartstrings. “I’m sorry. Shelley . . .” He shook his head. “It’s just terrible.”

“It is, terrible. Yes.” CJ really did not want to do this with him.

“Look.” He wrapped those long fingers around her forearm,
squeezed gently. “Let me sign off on a couple things in here and we’ll have dinner.”

No
was on the tip of her tongue.

“You can’t say no,” he insisted with that charming smile that had probably broken many a heart. “I won’t have it. That’s an order. Give me five minutes.”

Before she could argue, he disappeared into the clinic.

She supposed he was why Lusk hadn’t bothered locking the door directly behind CJ. She was expecting Cost.

Maybe CJ had judged too quickly, feeling sorry for Lusk. She might still be carrying a torch for her old flame.

She had nothing to worry about where CJ was concerned.

She wasn’t about to try the same poison twice.

But she would have dinner with him. As preceptor of the village clinic, he would have some knowledge of the patients and the neighborhood. Not to mention he could ensure she was approved for working at the clinic as long as necessary.

Follow all leads—that was going to be her motto.

Someone somewhere knew something.

She had to find that someone.

Huntsville Public Library

7:20
PM

Edward set his book aside and observed the soiree in the lobby below. A local artist had created another masterpiece. This one he’d donated to the library. The proceeds of a silent auction would benefit literacy. The artist stood in the center of it all, eating up the compliments and puffing with pride for his latest masterpiece.

How grand.

In Edward’s opinion, the true treasures in this building were the books. He picked up his book to resume his reading.

This was where he felt most at home.

Always had.

The world had become obsessed with television and the Internet, when books had been in front of them all along. Any subject could be researched in depth right here in the library. Any skill could be learned. All that was required were patience and persistence.

Quite frankly, losing oneself in a well-crafted story was so very easy.

But lately, he’d found losing himself, even in the best story, to be impossible. His concern for CJ would not allow true escape of any measure. Particularly after last evening’s disturbing announcement.

Even in death, Shelley had wielded one last injustice upon her sister.

CJ, poor, poor CJ, was left to grieve and struggle with the results.

Edward had scarcely slept last night. Today he’d tried to distract himself, but nothing he attempted had relieved the ache deep in his soul. Hardly twenty-four hours after her return, CJ had allowed the past to draw her back in. Did she not realize that it would swallow her up? Destroy her future?

He simply did not understand the compulsion. Shelley was dead. Risking her own future would not change that sad fate. CJ should return to Baltimore and focus on that future. There was nothing more she could do here. This was assuredly that maddening Detective Braddock’s doing. He would attempt to use CJ, as he’d used Shelley, for his own purposes. Edward had worked so diligently to keep CJ away from the path her sister had chosen. Now she seemed determined to walk that path, even if her motives were noble.

Edward desperately needed a plan of immediate action. CJ believed the man responsible for her sister’s murder was one Ricky Banks, an associate of Shelley’s. Quite an unsavory human being. Banks’s personal security was a rather large, quite nasty dog. He used that animal to inspire fear in those he employed. Edward used the word
employ
for lack of a more fitting term. Drugs, prostitution, all manner of crime against others filled the disgusting man’s resume. That he also possessed a penchant for abusing women further disturbed Edward.

If Braddock were worth his salt, this ghastly business would have been settled by this point. Unfortunately, his attempts had proved utterly inadequate.

Now Edward was forced to watch CJ punish herself as this fiasco of an investigation played out. In due time, surely, the matter would be closed.

Unfortunately, time was often the bane of one’s existence. There was either far too much or not nearly enough. At its core, one’s life was all about timing.

Time worked against CJ in this tragedy. Her quest to find
justice for her sister could keep her here and perhaps even distract her permanently from the future she deserved.

Somberness settled over Edward once more. He did not want her to throw away the unparalleled opportunity before her. Not when she was so very close. That choice could change everything. Could jeopardize all he’d worked so hard to accomplish.

Guilt plagued him for doubting her at all. CJ had never let him down before. Since she was a little girl, her insights and grasp of reality had been astonishing when one measured them against her life experiences. But this was a monumental obstacle even for one so brilliant and courageous.

CJ would need him more than ever now.

Coming here this evening to soothe his soul was like coming full circle. His journey with CJ had begun here.

A smile tugged at his lips. He remembered well the first time he’d noticed her at the library. Thirteen years old and fearless when it came to protecting her younger sister. Long, silky blond hair hanging down her back. Tattered dungarees and T-shirt. The equally shabby sandals she’d worn had scarcely met the criterion of “shoes required.”

As usual, Shelley had been giving her sister difficulty. She wanted to go to the park and play, while CJ, like Edward, wanted to lose herself in the aisles and aisles of books at the public library.

Those big blue eyes had filled with suspicion when he’d approached and suggested they go next door for ice cream. Eventually he’d persuaded her to trust him.

From the moment she’d smiled at him for the first time, he had known CJ was special.

He had guided and groomed her unrelentingly for the brilliant future she deserved.

Now, sixteen years later, that future was threatened.

He would not allow her to fall.

The village and the people there would only drag her down and swallow her up. Her emotional attachment to the past prevented her from seeing the imminent danger.

He must protect her.

No one else was going to do the job properly.

Stronger measures were necessary now. One often was forced to step several degrees outside one’s comfort zone to ensure the greater good.

The cell phone in his pocket vibrated. He frowned. Usually he turned the nuisance off before stepping through the library’s hollowed doors. But with the tragedy that had befallen CJ, he didn’t dare cut off that communication link.

He didn’t recognize the number.

Worry trickled. Perhaps he should see to this. She could be calling from most anywhere. The hospital. The police department.

The worry hurdled toward panic.

He rose from his chair, cast a glance at the mingling crowd below, then surveyed the mezzanine. Deserted. Still, a little too open for a private conversation. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and found it mostly deserted as well. The woman behind the help desk of the reference section glanced up, smiled at him. Edward returned the smile and journeyed to a corner of the second floor that was rarely visited. The city’s historical records.