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Third Grave Dead Ahead

Page 30

   


“To allay suspicion. If they were making up, no one would suspect the doctor of any wrongdoing. It would cast sympathy on him and the whole situation.”
“That’s possible. And two?” she asked.
“Since when do doctors have answering machines at home? Don’t they have answering services for that? Voice mail at work? It just seems really convenient.”
She was quiet a long time, but I heard footsteps as if she were moving in and out of several rooms. “You’re right. And he doesn’t have one now. Let me check that out, find out when he got the answering machine and how long he had it.”
“Sounds good. And can you get a copy of the message she left?”
“Mmm, I doubt that. Since there was no investigation, I can’t imagine anyone would have kept a copy, but I’ll find out.”
“Thanks. And can you check on the security system as well? Della Peters from the beauty salon said Yost knew Teresa never made it inside that night, because the security system would have recorded her entering.”
“It would have, had it been armed. That was one of the first things we checked. Yost said he forgot to arm it.”
“Then he’s a liar, liar, pants on fire.” I made a mental sticky note to that effect, in case I forgot later. “Thanks for the info.”
“You’re welcome. And, no offense, but shouldn’t you have found her by now? I mean, isn’t that what you do?”
“I’m working on it. Don’t push me.”
She sniffed. “Okay, just don’t forget about this.”
“Never.” I knew what was at stake for anyone in law enforcement. Making a name for oneself got you noticed. Took you places. And I wasn’t just talking about the Sizzler.
Cookie and I made plans for the next day as I drank two huge glasses of water. The natural tears I’d been using to moisturize my eyes were losing their efficacy and my mouth was full of cotton. Too much coffee, too little sleep. I needed to rehydrate.
“So, I’ll keep on the Yost case,” she said, writing down some ideas, “and you’re going to try to see Rocket.”
“That’s the plan. At least we can find out if Teresa Yost is still with us.”
She took the cup of coffee I’d just made out of my hands. “You need to get some sleep.”
“I need to soak in a hot bath, hydrate myself from the outside in.”
“That’s a good idea. Maybe it’ll relax you so much, you’ll fall asleep whether you want to or not.”
“Are you on my side, or what?”
An evil grin spread across her face as she called out to Amber. “Come on, hon.”
“Mom!” Amber said without ungluing her eyes from the TV screen. “This movie just started.”
“It’s almost your bedtime.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “She can stay.” I leaned in and whispered, “She’ll be asleep in no time.”
“True. But are you sure?”
“Of course,” I said, shooing her out the door. “I’m just going to soak a bit, then join her.”
Amber was watching one of the horror movies I’d rented. Come to think of it, that movie might keep her awake. At least it would keep one of us awake.
“I’m going to take a quick bath, kiddo,” I said, leaning over the sofa and kissing her forehead.
“Don’t make the water too hot. My teacher says it gives you old-timers.”
After squelching a snicker, I said, “I don’t think hot baths have anything to do with Alzheimer’s, but I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Okay, but my teacher says,” she warned. I could see why Cookie threatened repeatedly to sell her to the gypsies if she weren’t so cute.
7
I totally take back all those times I didn’t want to nap when I was younger.
—T-SHIRT
I stripped down and sank into the tub, cringing when the scalding water slid up my legs and torso. A sultry heat settled around me, the steam seeping into my skin, and my lids started to drift shut almost immediately. My mind wandered aimlessly to greener pastures. Pastures with a four-poster bed perched in a field of grass with fluffy down pillows that just begged to be slept on. And baby ducks. For some reason, there were baby ducks. I rubbed my eyes, forcing myself back to the present, and led a dampened strand of hair behind an ear. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. If I was going to make it another night without sleep, the last thing I needed was a hot, relaxing bath.
I washed quickly and immersed myself fully in the water to rinse off, looking from beneath it at the glint of light before resurfacing. Reluctantly, I pushed the stopper with my toes to let the water drain and stood to get a towel, which I draped over my head to wring the water from my hair.
The drain gurgled as the water stirred at my feet. I felt something solid there and slowly lowered the towel. A telltale heat rose like steam around my legs, and Reyes materialized in front of me, his powerful shoulders glistening as water sheeted off them. He locked a hand around my throat and leaned me back against the cool tile wall, so at odds with the blistering heat that radiated off him. His expression was hard and unforgiving.
And before I could say anything, that familiar need gripped me. I steeled myself, fought it, but it was like fighting a tsunami with a spork. He stepped closer as his gaze locked on to mine, his deep brown eyes almost inquisitive under his spiked lashes.