He opened her car door for her and nudged her back. “Go home and get some rest. Do you still have the Xanax I gave you? Take one.”
“What about this?” She waved the paper in his face. “Shouldn’t we tell Detective Chu about this?”
“I’ll go back up to the office and give it to him. The guy may have done it to scare you. Detective Chu’s probably right. He’s a drug addict hopped up on something.”
“I hope so.” She hugged herself, pulling her sweater tight. “I’m no threat to him. I can’t identify him, but if he left any evidence on the note that can be traced, it’s important that Chu see it. I want this guy caught. I want him to pay for what he did to Dr. B, and I’ll help any way I can.”
Nick put the note in the pocket of his slacks. “I doubt this piece of paper will help the detectives, but it’s worth a try. Get some sleep. I’ll check in on you tomorrow at the office, and remember, send Dr. B’s patients to me. If I can’t help them, I’ll refer them out.”
She slid onto the seat of the car and locked the doors. As she cruised out of the parking structure, she saw Nick in her rearview mirror, following her on foot. She drove slowly, and as she pulled up to the parking arm and slid her card key into the slot, Nick caught up with her bumper and slapped the trunk.
She wheeled onto the rain-slicked street. Nick lifted his hand, and she waved back.
Nick showed some real guts and heart today. Maybe Dr. Perfect had more depth than she ever imagined…and he was even better-looking up close and personal.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Lacey dragged her feet down the hallway toward the office with the yellow police tape criss-crossed over the doorway. A uniformed officer lounged nearby, talking to one of Nick’s office nurses, Petra. Lacey squared her shoulders. After yesterday’s terror and a sleepless night, she didn’t need one of Petra’s inquisitions. She wanted to get away from this office and return to the safety of her own home.
“Oh, my God, Lacey, you must’ve been terrified. Are you okay?” Petra hugged her, patting her back.
“My throat’s a little sore, but other than that, I’m fine. Dr. B didn’t fare so well.” Tears stung her nose and she rubbed it with a tissue.
“I know. I feel just awful….”
Petra trailed off. Dr. B was not known for his sparkling personality or great wit. He kept to himself, a morose, solitary man. The police notified his daughter in New Jersey, and Lacey had spoken with her on the phone this morning. She planned to fly his body back to Jersey for the funeral and burial.
The young officer cleared his throat. “Are you Lacey Kirk?”
“Yeah, do you need to see some ID or something?” She fumbled in her purse and drew out her wallet with her driver’s license.
He looked it over and unlocked the box attached to the office door.
“Can you believe that Nick came into the office today?” Petra shook her head. “He told us all about how he came to your rescue and chased off the bad guy, and he came in to work today even with that bandage on the side of his head.”
“He didn’t exactly chase off the bad guy.” Leave it to Dr. Perfect to put the perfect spin on the story. She blew out a breath. But he probably saved her life, and she never even thanked him for it. “He did come to my rescue, though.”
Petra sighed. “Must be nice.”
“To be choked by a murderer?”
“Oh, no, of course not.” Petra blinked and flapped her hands.
Lacey ducked under the police tape. She licked her lips as she surveyed the upended furniture and bloodstains in the reception area. Nick’s blood.
“Can I straighten this out now?”
The cop answered, “Sure. They’re done collecting evidence.”
“Are you going to wait in the hallway? You’re welcome to hang out here.”
“I’m okay.” He grinned at Petra.
She snapped the door shut. Great, the murderer could be lurking in here, and her only protection was flirting with a nurse in the hallway.
Her gaze darted to the door leading to the back rooms. When did Dr. B hear the intruder? If he had a gun, why didn’t he just shoot him when the guy came into his office? Maybe the murderer came in with his gun pulled first. Thank God he didn’t shoot her…or Nick.
Holding her breath, she crept through the door. The fax machine started churning, and she jumped. She watched a piece of paper slide into the fax tray. She froze. What if the killer faxed her a set of eyes?
She tiptoed to the fax machine and lifted the paper. An ad for a medical supply company. She shook her head and crumpled the single sheet. Get a grip.
Avoiding Dr. B’s office, she entered the supply room. Shards of glass from the cabinets littered the floor, and a caustic aroma rose from the sink, cluttered with broken bottles of medicine. Time to make that list of missing drugs for Detective Chu.
She returned to the reception area and pulled out the chair at her desk, perching on its edge. She’d never feel comfortable in this office again, which didn’t pose much of a problem since she’d probably never come back.
Dr. B worked alone, no partners. His two surgical nurses had been with him for years, as had his bookkeeper. Lacey had spoken to both of his nurses, Debbie Chase and Jill Zombrotto, last night. Detective Chu had already notified them, so the initial shock had worn off—at least for Debbie, the stoic one. Jill had always been more emotional, and she was still crying when Lacey spoke to her.
Their dedication to Dr. B never wavered, and Lacey wasn’t quite sure what they got in return. They probably could’ve earned more money at a busier practice, and they didn’t stick around for Dr. B’s jovial personality.
Dr. B valued privacy, especially after his wife, Rose, died. Lacey’s mom and Rose shared the same oncologist and became friendly in the waiting room. When Mom found out Rose’s husband needed a receptionist, she suggested Lacey. Rose had asked them to dinner a few times, so Lacey could meet Dr. B. She needed the job while she finished her last year of the hospice program, which she began after Mom’s cancer came back.
Mom passed away first, and Rose followed six months later. Dr. B didn’t need Lacey for emotional support after his wife died, but he still needed her office and nursing skills. He always kept to himself and frustrated her efforts at caretaking…even at the very end. She couldn’t do a thing to save him.
She powered on her computer and opened the database containing all of Dr. B’s patients, except the top-secret ones. Jill and Debbie could handle those.
After printing out an inventory of drugs in the office, she made several calls to give his patients the bad news. Many of them had already heard about the murder on TV or read about it in the newspaper. When they asked for a referral, she gave them Dr. Nick Marino’s name. He’d offered, hadn’t he?
She took care of other details to close down the office. His daughter could handle the logistics of his practice…and her sister. Dr. B’s other daughter, Abby, had Down syndrome and resided in a group home in Santa Cruz. She hoped the police would leave it to her sister to tell Abby the news.
She reached for her keys in the purse she’d hung on the back of her chair. Damn, she never did lock her desk last night. If she hadn’t forgotten, she never would’ve come back up here. The guy never would’ve attacked her. Nick never would’ve saved her.
She jerked open the middle desk drawer and frowned. She’d left the appointment book right on top last night. Not that she needed it. The book simply duplicated the database, because Dr. B preferred reviewing his appointments on paper rather than logging on to his computer. And Dr. B wouldn’t be reviewing appointments anymore.
“I’m