I can’t find my dad’s car keys.”
“Toby, huh?”
“He came over to look at the burns this morning.”
“Did he now? I’ll meet you at the hospital either way. Supe said he’d lend you a car for the time you’re here, if you need it.”
“Thanks, Freddie.”
“No problem, Lieutenant.” She hung up without another word.
“Terrible timing that woman has.” Toby smirked. Gently, he touched the thin skin of Hart’s bare clavicle. “This is so—” He lifted his gaze to Hart’s and then dropped it again with a little laugh. “So inappropriate from a doctor-patient standpoint. Same goes for policeman-suspect, I imagine?”
“Your alibi checks out. You’re not a suspect.” Hart watched Toby nod and bite his lip. He cleared his throat. “And you’re not really my doctor, unless there’s some orthopedic surgery I don’t know about? But yes. I don’t—” The ache that had settled in his chest when Brightly’s general hospital called him to inform him of his father’s death flared hotter than any burn on his body. “I’m here to bury my dad, not—”
Toby’s hand fell away. “I know. I’m sorry, I know.”
It turned out to be a good thing that Toby stuck around because Hart was as hopeless at locating anything of his father’s as his mother had been. After getting dressed and searching everything from his dad’s study to the fruit bowl filled with old mail, he had to admit defeat. The car keys were nowhere to be found. Toby even joined in the search, but he seemed reluctant to snoop through a house he didn’t know.
“My mom always nagged at him,” Hart said as he pulled open kitchen drawers. “She could never find the keys when she needed them, and Dad never left them where he was supposed to.”
“It’s a big house to search.” Toby stood with his arms crossed, shoulder leaning against the doorframe leading back into the hallway, his features soft and open.
“Well, I give up.”
“Come on, then.” Toby pushed away from the doorframe and patted Hart’s shoulder. “I’ll drive you into town.”
“D ON ’ T PANIC ,” Hart said, pressing his left elbow against his side. It had been a struggle to get his holster over the bandages this morning, even with Toby’s help, but Hart wasn’t leaving his service weapon behind again after yesterday, even if it did dig into the wound a little. “But I think we’re being followed.”
“ What ?” Toby’s grip on the wheel tightened, and he glanced in his rearview mirror. At least he wasn’t being obvious about it.
“Black van.” Hart reached into his hoodie. “They’ve been behind us since you left my street.”
Toby’s eyes remained trained on the rearview mirror for a few seconds, and then he stared at Hart until he had to turn his attention back to the road. “You do realize this is pretty much the only way into town from here, right?”
“Yes, I know. I grew up here. It’s just—” A feeling ? Really? Hart fell silent.
“Look,” Toby said, and Hart appreciated the lack of condescension in his voice. “You nearly got blown to pieces yesterday. Anyone would be a bit on edge from that. No one is following us.”
“It’s not that far-fetched,” Hart said, hating how surly he sounded. “Someone planted that bomb.”
Toby bit his lip, then quickly reached out and squeezed Hart’s thigh once. “True, but I doubt it was—” Toby squinted at the rearview mirror. “—Angela’s Flower Arrangements.”
“You’re probably right.” Hart laughed softly and let his hand fall away from his holster. He did notice Toby keeping an eye on his rearview mirror.
Freddie leaned against her illegally parked Camry when Toby and Hart pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Why,” Toby asked, lifting the parking brake, “is she grinning like that?”
“She thinks I am a giant homophobe, and she’s enjoying my discomfort at being near you.”
“And are you?” Toby put his hands back on the steering
“Toby, huh?”
“He came over to look at the burns this morning.”
“Did he now? I’ll meet you at the hospital either way. Supe said he’d lend you a car for the time you’re here, if you need it.”
“Thanks, Freddie.”
“No problem, Lieutenant.” She hung up without another word.
“Terrible timing that woman has.” Toby smirked. Gently, he touched the thin skin of Hart’s bare clavicle. “This is so—” He lifted his gaze to Hart’s and then dropped it again with a little laugh. “So inappropriate from a doctor-patient standpoint. Same goes for policeman-suspect, I imagine?”
“Your alibi checks out. You’re not a suspect.” Hart watched Toby nod and bite his lip. He cleared his throat. “And you’re not really my doctor, unless there’s some orthopedic surgery I don’t know about? But yes. I don’t—” The ache that had settled in his chest when Brightly’s general hospital called him to inform him of his father’s death flared hotter than any burn on his body. “I’m here to bury my dad, not—”
Toby’s hand fell away. “I know. I’m sorry, I know.”
It turned out to be a good thing that Toby stuck around because Hart was as hopeless at locating anything of his father’s as his mother had been. After getting dressed and searching everything from his dad’s study to the fruit bowl filled with old mail, he had to admit defeat. The car keys were nowhere to be found. Toby even joined in the search, but he seemed reluctant to snoop through a house he didn’t know.
“My mom always nagged at him,” Hart said as he pulled open kitchen drawers. “She could never find the keys when she needed them, and Dad never left them where he was supposed to.”
“It’s a big house to search.” Toby stood with his arms crossed, shoulder leaning against the doorframe leading back into the hallway, his features soft and open.
“Well, I give up.”
“Come on, then.” Toby pushed away from the doorframe and patted Hart’s shoulder. “I’ll drive you into town.”
“D ON ’ T PANIC ,” Hart said, pressing his left elbow against his side. It had been a struggle to get his holster over the bandages this morning, even with Toby’s help, but Hart wasn’t leaving his service weapon behind again after yesterday, even if it did dig into the wound a little. “But I think we’re being followed.”
“ What ?” Toby’s grip on the wheel tightened, and he glanced in his rearview mirror. At least he wasn’t being obvious about it.
“Black van.” Hart reached into his hoodie. “They’ve been behind us since you left my street.”
Toby’s eyes remained trained on the rearview mirror for a few seconds, and then he stared at Hart until he had to turn his attention back to the road. “You do realize this is pretty much the only way into town from here, right?”
“Yes, I know. I grew up here. It’s just—” A feeling ? Really? Hart fell silent.
“Look,” Toby said, and Hart appreciated the lack of condescension in his voice. “You nearly got blown to pieces yesterday. Anyone would be a bit on edge from that. No one is following us.”
“It’s not that far-fetched,” Hart said, hating how surly he sounded. “Someone planted that bomb.”
Toby bit his lip, then quickly reached out and squeezed Hart’s thigh once. “True, but I doubt it was—” Toby squinted at the rearview mirror. “—Angela’s Flower Arrangements.”
“You’re probably right.” Hart laughed softly and let his hand fall away from his holster. He did notice Toby keeping an eye on his rearview mirror.
Freddie leaned against her illegally parked Camry when Toby and Hart pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Why,” Toby asked, lifting the parking brake, “is she grinning like that?”
“She thinks I am a giant homophobe, and she’s enjoying my discomfort at being near you.”
“And are you?” Toby put his hands back on the steering
Similar Books
