Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Take her to the house,” Peter said quickly.
“We can’t keep her at the house,” Kyle replied.
Peter looked around. “I know that. Just meet me there in about half an hour. We’ll get her and the body into the boat.”
Dread spread through her chest, cold and suffocating.
“I’ll clean up here. Trust me,” Peter added.
Kyle looked at him for a long moment, then glanced down at May. She was trying to shove herself into the corner of the trunk, away from Jack’s still body. “How are you getting there?” Kyle asked.
“I’ll bring Jack’s rental truck,” Peter said. “It’s out front. This is going to work out, Senator. I promise.”
Kyle’s gaze dropped back to May. “I hope so. Either way, I’m going to enjoy this.”
Then he slammed the trunk lid shut.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ace pulled into the clinic lot with the last of the evening light still hanging over Knife’s Edge. The color in the sky had shifted to a washed-out silver as more clouds rolled in, and the air carried that damp hint that more rain was coming. So far, the lightning hadn’t caused any local forest fires, but he wasn’t sure how long their luck would last.
He shut off the engine and sat for a second, listening to the tick of the cooling dash and the faint hiss of wind through the spruce around him. It had been a long preliminary hearing, and once again, he wasn’t feeling great about his chances at trial.
Hopefully May would want to grab a quick dinner in town. Being around her relaxed him.
He got out and walked to the front door, already reaching for the handle. The CLOSED sign faced outward. The door was locked. That was normal after hours, but May would’ve let him know if she was taking off.
He pulled out his phone and called her. Several rings came over the line, and then the call went to voice mail. That was odd. If she were with a patient, the door wouldn’t be locked. He lowered the phone and looked through the glass. The reception area lights were on, bright and steady. May didn’t leave the clinic lit up if she was gone. Warning clicked through him. He could go through the hospital, but if she’d locked this door, the adjoining one would be secure as well.
Would May have left without giving him a call? He didn’t think so. The wind grew more forceful, and a light rain started to drop.
He walked along the side of the building toward the back, his senses on full alert. The clinic backed up to the tree line, and the forest felt close tonight, wet and watchful. The back lot was empty, so Nancy and Lance weren’t at work. Ace had driven May earlier, and Dr. Patterson usually jogged to work, so Ace didn’t immediately panic.
The rear clinic door sat slightly ajar.
Ace stopped with one hand half lifted. He stared at the gap for a beat, then for another. The latch hadn’t caught.
He pushed it with two fingers.
The door gave silently and the warmer air of the clinic brushed his face. He stepped in and let the door ease shut behind him. The place felt wrong. Vacant. He stood in the dim hallway and listened.
Nothing moved.
“May,” he called once, not loud, just enough to reach down the hall.
No answer.
His pulse stayed steady, but his attention sharpened. Maybe she’d just run over to Hittie’s for a coffee, but she should’ve called. At least texted. He moved toward her office. The door was open, and the desk lamp was on. A folder sat near her keyboard, and an empty mug rested on a stack of papers. Her phone was on the wood, face down, charging.
He picked it up.
The screen lit immediately to show missed calls from him, one from Daisy, and one from Amka. No outgoing call to him. Heat blasted through him. May didn’t go anywhere without her phone. Couldn’t. She was always on call.
Now panic threatened to take him, so he shoved it away, settling into training.
He set it back down in the same spot and scanned the room. The chair was pulled slightly away from the desk. A small space heater sat in the corner, unplugged. A framed nature photo hung crooked on the wall.
He stepped back into the hallway and headed toward the exam rooms. His boots made almost no sound on the linoleum, and the walls seemed too quiet.
Exam Room One was dark and closed.
Exam Room Two was open, and the overhead light was on.
He stepped into the doorway and took it in fast. The counters were wiped down, and the sink looked recently used. The air smelled strongly of bleach. Not the normal, controlled clinic-clean smell. This was harsher. Fresh.
Adrenaline poured through him. He walked in and looked at the floor first. Near the far wall, the tile looked different. It had a faint discoloration and a shadow that didn’t match the rest of the linoleum. He crouched, brought his hand down, and dragged two fingers lightly across it. Tacky. Going on instinct, he pulled the baseboard away from the wall. Blood. A lot of it and still fresh. His throat closed.