them.
“Did you spot any vehicles leaving the scene, Ms. Green?” Conahegg asked. His tone was distant, his words clipped.
“No.”
“Pass anybody on the road?”
I shook my head.
“Anyone on foot.”
“No again.”
He said nothing.
“Do you need for me to go back inside?” I asked, squaring my shoulders to gather my courage, struggling hard to be all business, too.
Conahegg’s mouth flattened in a noncommittal expression and he motioned his crew toward the trailer. “No. It’s best if you stay out here. But don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back to talk to you.”
“I’ve got another patient to see in half an hour.” I glanced at my watch.
“Call your office and get someone else to do it,” he snapped, making me wonder if I had imagined his earlier compassion.
Overall, he had the personality of a steamroller and he was obviously accustomed to having his edicts followed with unquestioned loyalty, but his badass attitude made me want to rebel.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “My patients always come first.”
“Tim Kehaul was your patient.”
“Tim Kehaul is dead. My responsibilities are to the living.”
“Stay put.” He raised a finger of warning. “Don’t make me take you into custody.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” I lifted my chin and wondered why in the hell I felt so jazzed. It was the same sort of adrenaline rush I got during a code blue. Nervousness born of inexplicable excitement that I didn’t know how to alleviate. What in the hell was wrong with me?
His eyes met mine, hard and unreadable. “Try me.”
I resisted the childish urge to stick my tongue out at him. His men circled the house. One of the deputies stepped up on the front porch and peeled back the screen door. It creaked loudly.
“Needs WD-40,” I said inanely.
“Sheriff’s Department,” the deputy hollered after knocking on the inner door, which was still standing open as I had left it. “We’re coming in.”
“There’s nobody inside the house except Tim,” I told him.
“Procedure,” Conahegg answered. “You never know for sure.”
I knew for sure, but who was I to argue with an ex-marine with a very big gun?
“Stand over here,” he commanded, ushering me off Tim’s property without actually touching me, until I was standing in the middle of the dirt road. Strange, but it seemed as if I could feel that muscular arm at my back, pushing me along like a broom at a piece of dust.
Why the man intrigued me while punching my buttons at the same time, I could not say. I only know I had never been so aroused and yet so irritated by anyone. I wanted to kiss him and kick him in the behind at the same time.
Jeez Louise, what’s wrong with you? Now’s not the time to get warm and fuzzy over Conahegg. There’s a dead bodyinside that glorified tin can. A body who happens to be your sister’s ex-boyfriend.
Besides, Conahegg wasn’t my type. I preferred tender men who read poetry and studied art, not steel and iron types with piercing dark eyes that could drill a hole straight through you at a hundred paces. I wasn’t a glutton for punishment.
And yet, I couldn’t help but watch him stalk back toward the trailer house, his butt encased so finely in that formfitting uniform. When he disappeared inside, I finally looked away.
One of the deputies started roping yellow crime scene tape around the perimeter. I tugged my cell phone from my pocket, extended the antenna, punched in the numbers then broke the news to Joyce that she’d have to finish my visits for the day since I was apparently being detained by the sheriff for the duration of the afternoon. Joyce wasn’t too happy, but hey, it wasn’t my problem.
Minutes passed. The sun continued to beat down and I was awash in sweat. Nice. A fly kept buzzing around my head and no amount of swatting seemed to persuade him to find a more receptive landing place. I began to walk around to outdistance the fly and that’s when I noticed that several people had
“Did you spot any vehicles leaving the scene, Ms. Green?” Conahegg asked. His tone was distant, his words clipped.
“No.”
“Pass anybody on the road?”
I shook my head.
“Anyone on foot.”
“No again.”
He said nothing.
“Do you need for me to go back inside?” I asked, squaring my shoulders to gather my courage, struggling hard to be all business, too.
Conahegg’s mouth flattened in a noncommittal expression and he motioned his crew toward the trailer. “No. It’s best if you stay out here. But don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back to talk to you.”
“I’ve got another patient to see in half an hour.” I glanced at my watch.
“Call your office and get someone else to do it,” he snapped, making me wonder if I had imagined his earlier compassion.
Overall, he had the personality of a steamroller and he was obviously accustomed to having his edicts followed with unquestioned loyalty, but his badass attitude made me want to rebel.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “My patients always come first.”
“Tim Kehaul was your patient.”
“Tim Kehaul is dead. My responsibilities are to the living.”
“Stay put.” He raised a finger of warning. “Don’t make me take you into custody.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” I lifted my chin and wondered why in the hell I felt so jazzed. It was the same sort of adrenaline rush I got during a code blue. Nervousness born of inexplicable excitement that I didn’t know how to alleviate. What in the hell was wrong with me?
His eyes met mine, hard and unreadable. “Try me.”
I resisted the childish urge to stick my tongue out at him. His men circled the house. One of the deputies stepped up on the front porch and peeled back the screen door. It creaked loudly.
“Needs WD-40,” I said inanely.
“Sheriff’s Department,” the deputy hollered after knocking on the inner door, which was still standing open as I had left it. “We’re coming in.”
“There’s nobody inside the house except Tim,” I told him.
“Procedure,” Conahegg answered. “You never know for sure.”
I knew for sure, but who was I to argue with an ex-marine with a very big gun?
“Stand over here,” he commanded, ushering me off Tim’s property without actually touching me, until I was standing in the middle of the dirt road. Strange, but it seemed as if I could feel that muscular arm at my back, pushing me along like a broom at a piece of dust.
Why the man intrigued me while punching my buttons at the same time, I could not say. I only know I had never been so aroused and yet so irritated by anyone. I wanted to kiss him and kick him in the behind at the same time.
Jeez Louise, what’s wrong with you? Now’s not the time to get warm and fuzzy over Conahegg. There’s a dead bodyinside that glorified tin can. A body who happens to be your sister’s ex-boyfriend.
Besides, Conahegg wasn’t my type. I preferred tender men who read poetry and studied art, not steel and iron types with piercing dark eyes that could drill a hole straight through you at a hundred paces. I wasn’t a glutton for punishment.
And yet, I couldn’t help but watch him stalk back toward the trailer house, his butt encased so finely in that formfitting uniform. When he disappeared inside, I finally looked away.
One of the deputies started roping yellow crime scene tape around the perimeter. I tugged my cell phone from my pocket, extended the antenna, punched in the numbers then broke the news to Joyce that she’d have to finish my visits for the day since I was apparently being detained by the sheriff for the duration of the afternoon. Joyce wasn’t too happy, but hey, it wasn’t my problem.
Minutes passed. The sun continued to beat down and I was awash in sweat. Nice. A fly kept buzzing around my head and no amount of swatting seemed to persuade him to find a more receptive landing place. I began to walk around to outdistance the fly and that’s when I noticed that several people had
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