Читать книгу All Fall Down - Erica Spindler, Erica Spindler - Страница 18

Melanie stayed with her sister until dawn. After straightening up the house, they curled up together on the king-size bed, sipping Irish creams and remembering the good times from their childhood, recalling friends they had known and fun places they had lived. Before long, Mia had nodded off.

Even after her sister had been soundly asleep, Melanie had agonized over leaving her. But she’d been forced to. It had been obvious Boyd wasn’t going to return and she had hoped to get in an hour of shut-eye before having to get ready for work. Instead, she had lain awake, staring at the ceiling and worrying about her sister.

Though reassured by Mia’s promise to leave her husband, Melanie wasn’t optimistic she would keep her word. It wasn’t uncommon for women caught in abusive relationships to marshal their personal reserves during a crisis, only to crumble as soon as the crisis passed. Or the man apologized and promised to do better.

Boyd had to be held accountable, Melanie had decided as she stood under the shower’s stinging spray. He had to know his behavior was being monitored and that it wouldn’t be tolerated. She wanted him to know that she wouldn’t tolerate it.

She had a plan.

“Morning, Bobby,” she called to her partner as she arrived at headquarters later that morning.

“Morning, Mel.” Her eternally youthful partner looked up from the sports section of the Charlotte Observer, and his eyebrows shot up. “Looking good today, Mel-babe. Up all night with a sick kid?”

“In a way.” She dropped her purse beside her desk and headed for the coffeepot.

He unfolded his lanky frame, grabbed his empty cup and followed her. He held out the cup, then frowned. “Wait a minute, I thought Casey was in Orlando with his dad.”

“He is. Different kid.” She filled him in on how she had spent the previous evening, though she didn’t elaborate on her sister’s troubles. “I thought we might pay the good doctor an unofficial official call.”

Bobby grinned. “And shake him up a bit.” “You got it.” “I’m in.”

Melanie added powdered creamer to her coffee and sipped. “Anything big happen overnight?”

“Not unless you call the high school being rolled big.” He grinned. “Oh, and old Mrs. Grady reported a masked bandit in her trash again.”

Melanie rolled her eyes. Her brush with real detective work had made WPD business-as-usual seem more pointless than it had before. “Raccoon?”

“Irritating little bastards, aren’t they? She demanded immediate action.”

“Poor Will.” Melanie imagined pudgy, baby-faced Will Pepperman, the officer in charge of the night shift, dispatching a cruiser to the scene of the crime. No doubt he had gotten an earful from the lucky patrolman who had answered that call. Better him, though, than Mrs. Grady. Shrill would be a kind way to describe her voice.

They crossed to Bobby’s desk and she perched on the corner. “How about the phone banks? Anything come in?”

“Anything promising? No. Anything at all? Yes.” He handed her a printout. Melanie skimmed her gaze down the pages, a ball of frustration forming in the pit of her gut. “There must be a hundred calls here.”

“A hundred and twelve. But who’s counting?”

She made a sound of resignation. “Top or bottom?” she asked, referring to which half of the list he wanted.

“Sorry to ruin your day, but what you’re holding is the top half of the list.” She groaned and he made a sound of sympathy. “It does suck, doesn’t it?”

“Royally.” She met his eyes, wondering not for the first time how her partner remained so upbeat about the job. She decided to ask him. “You’ve been with the WPD ten years, how do you not let all this inconsequential … busywork get to you?”

He was quiet for a moment. When he answered, his tone was measured, for once, one hundred percent serious. “I’m thirty-eight years old, Melanie. I have four kids and a wife to support and only a two-year degree from a junior college. I make as much here as a CMPD guy at the same rank, get to carry a gun and look like a hotshot hero to my kids, but at the end of the day I know old Mrs. Grady’s masked bandit isn’t going to make my wife a widow and my kids fatherless. And that counts for a lot with me.”

Melanie looked at her partner with newfound respect. And also with a modicum of guilt—she should feel the same way because of Casey. But she didn’t. Ambition, longing for real police work, burned in the pit of her gut. Some days it felt as if the blaze was going to consume her whole.

She forced a smile and held up her half of the list. “Okay, Mr. Sunshine, paint this a happy shade of rose for me. Quick, while I still remember how to smile.”

“My pleasure.” He tapped the printout. “The fact is, about a third of this list can be eliminated as outright fabrications.”

She arched her eyebrows. “That’s supposed to make me smile?”

“Give me a minute. Another third,” he continued, “can be eliminated simply—a phone call, a computer check, stuff like that.”

“But the rest we’ll have to follow through in a big way.” She dropped her head into her hands. “We’ll be chasing down dead ends all day!”

“Not all day.” Bobby grinned and leaned toward her. He lowered his voice. “After handling those irritating, go-nowhere leads, we can pay a visit to your fist-happy brother-in-law. And dish him some serious shit.”

She lifted her face. “The day’s starting to look up at last.”

His expression became positively devilish. “I live to please, babe.”

Several hours later Melanie and Bobby entered the lobby of Queen’s City Medical Center. Located only five minutes from the Whistlestop PD, they had saved this stop for last—a kind of reward for the previous hours of grunt work.

They crossed to the information desk. “Hello,” Melanie said to the woman staffing the desk. She held up her shield. “I’m Officer May. This is Officer Taggerty. We need to speak with Dr. Donaldson. Is he in?”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up. “You can’t mean Dr. Boyd Donaldson?”

Not drop-dead-gorgeous, ever-so-charming, top-of-his-class Donaldson? Melanie smiled sweetly. “Why, yes. That’s exactly who I mean. Is he in?”

The woman hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll ring his office.” She did, then after a moment turned back to Melanie. “He doesn’t answer. Would you like me to page him?”

Melanie said she would and in a matter of minutes he answered his page. The receptionist turned her back to them and spoke softly into the phone, no doubt informing the great Dr. Donaldson—as respectfully as possible—that the police were here to see him.

The woman hung up the phone and turned to them. “He’ll be right down.”

“Thank you.” With a wink at Bobby, Melanie turned her back to the bank of elevators, pretending interest in the people coming and going through the hospital’s front doors. She didn’t want Boyd to see her right away. She knew that her brother-in-law liked to be in control of every situation from the git-go. This was her way of making certain that this time he wasn’t.

They didn’t have long to wait. He fell right into her ploy, assuming Bobby was the officer here to see him. “Afternoon, Officer,” Boyd said, tone genial. “Dr. Boyd Donaldson. How can I help you?”

Melanie turned and smiled sweetly. “You’re pretty good at sucking up to the cops. Where’d you get the practice?”

For a split second he looked baffled. Then a dull red flush spread over his handsome features. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“A joke? I don’t know what you mean.”

“You told Nancy this was an official call.”

“Not at all.” She turned apologetically toward the receptionist. “I’m sorry if we gave you that impression.”

The woman looked upset and Boyd smiled reassuringly at her. “Nancy, this is my sister-in-law. She’s quite the little comedian.” He turned to Melanie. “I really don’t have time for a family visit right now. Call my secretary and make an appointment.”

His attitude didn’t surprise Melanie. Their relationship had always been adversarial. She had set the tone right off the bat by begging her sister not to marry him. He had followed her lead by doing his best to keep her and Mia apart after they were married, going so far as to tell his new bride that her twin was not welcome in his home.

He started to turn away. She stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Make time. Now.”

He glanced pointedly at her hand. “Excuse me?”

“It’s about Mia.”

He hesitated, glanced at his watch, then made a sound of annoyance. “Fine.” He motioned toward a quiet corner of the lobby. “But you’ll have to make it quick. I’m due in surgery in forty minutes.”

Melanie held on to her temper only until the three of them were in place. Then she let it rip. “Your concern for my sister’s health is touching, Boyd. Truly awe-inspiring.”

“I see nothing to be concerned about. I saw her this morning, she was fine. If she’d been in an accident or was ill, you would have told me up front. Am I wrong?”

He arched his eyebrows, the picture of arrogance, and Melanie’s blood boiled. “You son-of-a-bitch.” She took a step toward him. “I know about you, Dr. Donaldson. I know what you’re doing and it had better stop.”

His expression didn’t change, though Melanie thought she saw a flicker of panic in his eyes.

She took another step closer. “If you hit my sister again,” she said, not bothering to keep her voice low, “I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Several people glanced their way and Boyd flushed. “If you’re talking about that ridiculous black eye, Mia has no one to blame but herself. The woman has two left feet. In fact, because of her clumsiness, I was forced to attend the hospital’s annual patrons’ party alone. I didn’t appreciate that.”

As if sensing that she was about to blow, Bobby laid a hand on her arm in silent warning. She heeded the warning, taking a moment to calm herself before speaking. “That story,” she began softly, “might work for your golf mates and scalpel buddies, but not for me. I know about you and I promise if you touch my sister again—”

One of the hospital’s security guards rushed over. “Everything okay, Dr. Donaldson?”

“Fine.” Boyd smiled easily. “My sister-in-law’s a bit confused about something. But she was just leaving. Weren’t you, Melanie?”

She ignored the out. Leaning toward him, she lowered her voice. “If you hurt my sister again, I won’t be held accountable for my actions. Do you understand?”

A small, smug smile tipped the corners of her brother-in-law’s mouth. “That sounded like a threat.” He looked at the security guard, then at Bobby. “You both heard her, you’re my witnesses.” He returned his gaze to hers. “I’d advise you to learn to control that temper of yours, sister dear. I have the feeling it’s going to get you into trouble one day.”