Read Online Murder on the Last Frontier by Cathy Pegau - Free Book Online Page B

off, not trusting herself to speak without vomiting. The image of what he’d held burned into her brain. She collapsed onto the chair, bent forward with arms crossed over her knees and forehead resting on them. Her skin felt clammy through her cotton blouse sleeve.
    Swallowing to keep her stomach contents down, she heard Michael moving around with some urgency, muttering. The wet peeling sound was probably his gloves coming off. The squeal of an opening cabinet. The soft snap of cloth. His footsteps faded into his living quarters, and Charlotte heard the squeak of the pump handle and splashing water. He returned, his warm hand on her shoulder.
    â€œDrink.”
    Charlotte straightened and drew in slow, even breaths. Michael stood beside her, blocking her view of the table, an enameled mug in hand. She wrapped her shaking hands around his and brought the cup to her lips. Michael’s steady hold kept the water from splashing out. Something stronger would have been preferred, but the water helped. The roiling of her stomach subsided to a quiver after several sips.
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d be so squeamish.”
    â€œYou did better than I did my first time at an autopsy.” His mouth quirked into a sympathetic grin beneath his moustache. “Barely got through the Y incision before I passed out cold.”
    The weak smile she managed faltered when Charlotte caught a glimpse of Darcy’s now-shrouded body behind him. She looked down into the mug and swallowed hard. “I remember you becoming ill when I gashed my forehead falling off the swing in the yard. Always wondered how you’d manage being a doctor.”
    â€œI guess my desire to heal overcame my nausea after a while.” He gently tugged a loose lock of her hair. “Maybe having you bang yourself up all the time helped too.”
    She chuckled and nodded. Charlotte had rarely been without some bump, bruise, or laceration, but the head wound had been positively gruesome, if not deep. Between her history of childhood injuries and the aftermath of her procedure, she thought she’d be used to blood by now.
    But it wasn’t the blood, she realized, so much as Darcy’s situation. Surely the girl had known she was pregnant.
    â€œYou were her doctor. Didn’t you know?”
    Michael’s lips pressed together, and he looked pained again as he shook his head. “I haven’t conducted a full exam on her for a couple of months. Mostly just quick visits and a few swabs to test for syphilis and other diseases. She’d said everything was fine with her menses.”
    â€œSo she lied to you.”
    â€œProbably.” Michael let Charlotte hold the mug. “It’s possible she didn’t know for sure. But more likely she lied and tried to hide it from me. She might have been afraid of being let go from Brigit’s. Babies aren’t particularly good for that business.”
    Charlotte drank the last of the water, then set the mug on the counter. “What would she have done once the baby arrived? How would they have made do?”
    â€œIf she’d kept it and Brigit didn’t want her around? Server at one of the cafés or clubs. Laundress. She could have found something.” His gaze focused elsewhere as he became lost in thought. After a moment he shook off whatever he’d been considering and met her eyes. “I can finish up the rest of the examination and report. Go lie down for a bit.”
    She straightened in the chair and picked up the pen. “No, I’ll be all right.” He started to protest, but she held up a hand. “Honest. It was a bit of a shock, but I’m fine.”
    Liar .
    She knew exactly what the dead girl on the table had gone through. Passing off morning sickness as a bit of a cold or a bout with bad food. Explaining away tiredness as having stayed up too late or working too hard. Secrets to be kept, hidden away from friends and