Smolder (14 page)

Josh had learned the route to River Street when he drove around last week. He maneuvered through the downtown streets and even successfully navigated the roundabouts. We parked in a deck off Bay Street and walked across to River Street.

The setting was beautiful. Cobblestone streets wound behind riverfront buildings. The old alleyways were still there with access to the main road from a curved entrance. We walked down where horses and buggies rambled across worn stone. River Street was a cobblestone road with a train track right in the middle of it. Across it, an open air market displayed local artists’ works stretching right to the river.

As we walked, Josh grabbed my arm. “That is amazing."

I followed his gaze and saw a container ship drive by. It was higher than the two story buildings behind us. I peeked over the edge to see if the river rose as it went by. It was so huge I was certain the water would splash against the banks.

There was a sailing ship docked nearby, with sails that stretched up at least three stories. The wood glowed in sunlight. We walked the entire street twice before we decided on a small seafood restaurant. Seated in a window booth, we could watch the light change as the sun set outside. The food was delicious, and caught up in the sights, we didn't speak except to ask for more sweet tea.

Outside, we walked to the candy store. The largest I'd ever seen, and the caramel apples were the size of softballs. We got two, and split one on the way back to the car.

“This is what I want our lives in Savannah to be like,” Josh said.

“Me too. Hopefully, this will end soon.”

“In the meantime, we could wrestle in the backyard. I've been out of the ring for a while, and I could use some practice.”

I laughed. “Do I still lose every fight until I use a crotch shot?”

“Of course,” he said.

The scenic route home included a drive past Forsyth Park. It was huge and full of flowers and fountains. This city was a living postcard.

We sat in the driveway and looked at the front door.

“It's still closed,” I said.

“That’s a good sign,” he said.

“I hope so. I'm exhausted.”

A thorough check of the house with knives in hand eased our minds. No one was around, and everything looked in place. Tired from the day, I went to bed early. I would rather sleep too much than too little.

Sunday morning, Josh and I floated in the pool half-asleep. The hole in the glass let in a nice breeze. My stomach growled as I roused myself to get food. The clock in the kitchen read one p.m.

“Eat and then wrestle?” he asked from the door.

“Sounds good to me,” I answered.

I fixed sandwiches while Josh pulled three rubber tumbling mats out of the garage. He used them to wrestle, and they cushioned me during karate workouts. We started sparring and ended up a tickle fight. It was the only way I could win. Josh gave up, and I moved onto karate moves while he did some yoga.

My phone rang over on the table. It was Owen. Still angry at him, I let it go to voicemail. An hour later, with twelve bull’s eye knife throws in a row, I stopped to rest. There were four text messages from Owen.

“What did he say?” Josh asked.

“He apologized again for the damage, and apparently he drove by here earlier to make sure it was safe,” I said.

“That’s awful nice of the man.” Sarcasm dripped from each word.

“He goes on to warn me that serial killers spawn copycats, and I should be careful getting in and out of my car, since The Carver kidnapped all of his victims in a parking lot. He also pleads for a date so he can make it up to me.”

“I break down your door and shatter a glass wall, so... dinner?” Josh said.

“Sounds about right. It appears my cop friend is not good at the personal relations with women.”

“My sister, the queen of understatement.”

“He means well.”

“I know that,” he said. “He wants to keep you safe. Just like me. I called Dad earlier and told him a cop broke your glass wall. He said you need to cover your naked ass.”

“I need to call him.”

My dad and brother were my best friends, and once I convinced him we were capable of self-defense, my dad joked around with me. I loved having him as a friend; he knew almost everything about me and loved me anyway. It might explain why I got along better with men than women. I started with two guys as my best friends from the very beginning.

The afternoon passed as Josh alternated between working out and laying in the pool. I stayed in the pool watching the boats drive past in the marsh.

That evening, I called Owen and agreed to meet with him at his office the next day. A marathon of old martial arts movies topped off a perfect day.

Chapter Thirteen

Sore from my workouts of the day before, I moved slowly from my car to the office. I tried not to wince in pain, embarrassed that I'd let my training slip for the past few weeks. My first call was to a local martial arts studio to set up weekly classes and sparring matches. The owner worked in the local movie industry and trained local actors for film, so he had experience with knives. Lee called me from the front to tell me Owen was in the waiting room.

He paced the floor as I entered.

“You wanted to see me?”

“In my office, please.”

I grabbed my cell phone and put on my lab coat. On the way out, Lee gave me a list of three people to see in the afternoon. I looked at the schedule, and two p.m. was with Dmitri.

That'll work.

Owen walked fast through the halls and didn't speak to me. He smiled at a few people as we passed them, but it was a strange feeling. I was used to constant conversation. He unlocked his office door and let me in. I sat in the chair across from his desk and had the principal's office feeling again. I found myself sitting up straighter in the chair.

“Okay, Owen. What is it?” I asked.

“No need to be impatient.” He pulled a paper from a pile on his desk and handed it to me. “I believe I have everything outlined here.”

“You wrote a list of why you are better than Dmitri?” I asked. I was appalled and disgusted that not only would he write this list, but then give it to me and expect me to be impressed by it. This was beyond egotistical to something more clinical, and I didn’t want to go through it with him.

“Yes, I did. As you can see...”

“No. Owen, this is highly inappropriate and unprofessional.” I glanced at the list. “I do have a question about a few of those. You’re really that flexible?”

“I'm not good at talking to someone when I'm interested in them. I can't catch my breath, and I get dizzy if I try to complete a sentence.”

“You just did. And it bothers me that you would write that down in a list.”

“I'm staring at the wall behind you, and my ass cheeks are so tight right now they hurt,” he said.

I laughed. “Nerves are okay. They are normal. Especially when you care for someone.”

“Yes, Doctor,” he said. “You don't have a problem.”

“Talking is not my problem. Shutting up is my problem.”

“Would you consider going out with me? I know you are going out with Dr. K, but it's not official yet, or anything?” he asked.

All of a sudden I feel like a teenager again. “No, he's not my boyfriend. That’s all I'll tell you. What I do with him is not your business just as your private life is your business. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Now, I feel like I'm in a principal's office here, so I'm going to go see patients.” I rose to leave.

“I’m going to call to get the glass wall replaced today. When would be a good time for the installers to show up?” he asked.

“Call Josh. He’ll insist on being home, so it would be best to plan that with him.”

My mood lightened by the conversation, I found myself smiling as I visited patients. My job offered perspective in the strangest of places. One of the ladies I needed to see was an actress in her forties. She had been an extra on a big movie filmed here years ago, and, I was told, used that claim to enter high society.

Her husband made his money in shipping, and they lived in The Landings, a country club community on Skidaway Island where, I learned later, many doctors lived. She networked in the club and dined at the best restaurants. This time, she was an attraction in the emergency room.

Her door was open and each time someone walked past, I saw them smile, and the nurses behind the counter laughed. I asked someone what was going on.

“She poses every time someone walks by. Her hair and makeup are done, and she keeps reapplying her lipstick.”

“Thank you.”

When I walked in, she looked disappointed. She wore a miniskirt and had tied her hospital gown in a knot at her waist. It seems she was trying to impress the male doctors and residents. I closed the door behind me.

“I'm the hospital psychologist—”

“I'm not crazy,” she said.

“You are in full makeup with your hair done in an emergency room. You strike a seductive pose each time someone walks by. I don't use the word crazy, but you have to know that isn't normal.”

She broke down and cried. Her husband cheated on her with someone younger, and she started having panic attacks. Each time they went out in public, she was sure everyone knew and talked about her behind her back. She would get short of breath and spend the event in the ladies room. Now, she was afraid he would leave her because she couldn't live up to their social obligations.

I called the nurse in and told him the patient would need the least addicting mood stabilizer the doctor felt would work with any of her other medications. He returned and gave her a pill and a prescription.

“I'm like a real Hollywood star now," she said. “I have a therapist
and
drugs.”

She looked happy. I gave her my card and had the nurse call Lee and set up a follow-up appointment before they let her go home.

Dmitri met me in the back hallway.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said.

“Hello, sexy.”

He walked with me to his office for the two p.m. appointment.

“I'm on your schedule," he said.

“Yes, I noticed that. Nice move.” I was impressed.

He showed me his calendar, and it was all surgeries except this hour. “It was as much for me.”

“You’re busy,” I said.

“There was a multi-vehicle pileup on the interstate yesterday. We have a full calendar for a couple of days.”

“You okay? That has to be exhausting.”

“I'm tired. Not from the number of surgeries, but because I'm training residents, and I have to watch everything they do," he said.

The door behind me was shut, so I got up and walked over to him. He pulled me into his arms and held on.

“I need to tell you about this weekend,” I said.

“You didn't cheat on me with Owen, did you?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“No. He did break down my front door and shatter one of the large glass panels out back, though.”

He pulled back. “He what?”

“It really doesn't sound good when it's said out loud, does it?”

“No, it sounds crazy," he said.

“He thought someone was in the house with me and he tried to save me,” I said.

“Does that make sense to you?”

“Now that I say it out loud, it sounds odd. But I don't doubt he meant it. He apologized, and we made him fish the broken glass out of the hot tub,” I said.

He laughed. “Did you take pictures of that?”

“It's probably on the security tapes.” I paused. “There was another threat.”

He listened pulling me to him. Tears welled up in my eyes as we embraced.

“You are welcome to stay with me," he said.

“Look, Dmitri. We haven't been going out that long,” I said.

“That’s not what I mean. I bought this house before my wife filed for divorce. It's in The Landings, has five bedrooms and six bathrooms. The whole place was furnished by an interior decorator. Sometimes, it feels like a show home, until my kids come over. You can have your own room if you want. The neighborhood has a security gate. You would be safer.”

“Josh moved in with me over the weekend. He and his lady didn't work out. I can't leave him. Right now, he is my defense, and I've signed up for regular karate classes," I said.

“You know that sounds weak,” he replied.

“I know. But it's the best I have right now.” I had to wonder, if Josh wasn’t here would I have jumped at the offer? It was possible.

He held me close. “I have to get back to surgery. Anytime, day or night, you want to come by, just call. Josh is welcome as well. I have the space.”

I tried not to cry in front of him, but the tears fell down my face.

“I didn't mean to offend you," he said.

I took the tissues he offered. “I'm not offended, I'm sincerely touched.”

He kissed me passionately. “I would also love to sneak across the house to sleep with you.”

I laughed. “You are ruining my sentimental moment.”

He opened the door and escorted me to my office. “I can't be all good guy now, can I?”

Lee stood at her desk, and with one glance at me, summed it up.

“You have it bad.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.” I came close to telling her he asked me to move in, but I knew that would make the gossip circuit and that was a secret. Our secret.

On my desk, Lee had placed a desktop calendar. This afternoon, she blocked out three to five p.m. for “catch up on nonsense paperwork for hospital.” I really liked her. Head down and buried in paperwork, I forgot all of the problems for a couple of hours. It was a needed break, but it left me stiff as I got up to head home.

My throwing board was up in the back yard, and the mats were spread out off to the side. Josh cut quite a figure in yoga pants, and it seemed some women on a boat going by noticed his bare chest as he stretched.

“You have admirers,” I said.

“They have been there for a while now,” he replied. “I wish they would go away."

“Not ready for an audience?” I asked.

He shot me a look that said ‘no,’ and went back to stretching. I walked over and kissed his cheek. The women's assumptions destroyed their party, and they moved on.

The knives hit the center of the target every time, and now I knew I could hit anything, or anyone, I needed to. I joined Josh on the workout mats where he had been lifting hand weights and did some yoga stretches of my own.

The doorbell rang, and Josh left to answer it.

“Nice pose,” Owen said. “Is everything okay here tonight?”

“Yes, it’s fine. We’re just getting back into our normal routines," I said. “I’m wondering if the police contacted you about the missing intruder on the security tapes. We haven't heard."

I glanced at Josh and shook his head no.

“I haven’t heard anything, but I’ll check with her. The glass installation people said they would be here tonight.” He paced.

At that cue, the front door bell rang again, and Josh let the glass company in. They repaired the hole with three smaller pieces, the center one being a door. They said it would allow me to gain access to that strip of yard between the pool enclosure and the azaleas at the side fence. I thanked them for their work, and Owen covered the cost.

As the sun set, we picked up our training equipment and moved to the covered patio. Owen promised to get in touch with us if he heard from the local police.

“You need to call her," I said to Josh after he left.

He called, and she told him the recording had been tampered with, how that side of the yard ran on a recorded loop. She called the security company the chief hired and found one of the consultants worked for Owen at the hospital.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”