Angela McGraw was a few years older than me, but not by much. We looked to be about the same size too, but that’s where the similarities ended. Where my hair was sleek and dark, and my skin fair and unblemished, she sported a coppery head of wiry curls and flesh so peppered with freckles that it was impossible to count them. As my eyes traced them to the collar of her pale blue cotton blouse, I had to fight the urge to ask if they continued onto her back and chest. I guessed they did, but that was just a guess. I envied her those striking green eyes. Mine were such a common brown. I noticed that they resembled rich emerald when she spoke passionately on a subject; which was often.
She’d been working as the county’s traveling social worker for five years. It was easy to tell that she loved her job by the way she lost herself into conversing about it whenever the opportunity arose.
She was less outgoing and generous with words and information when it came to discussing herself and her family. The background checks I’d done showed me that she’d lost her parents when she was in her early teens and was taken in by her aunt and uncle on her mother’s side. Although she didn’t say, I got the impression that she wasn’t very fond of them and was eager to leave the nest as soon as she came of age. Her brother, Michael, was two years older than her. He died while fighting in Iraq. Her pain over losing him echoed in her words as she told the tale.
She was a vegetarian and an animal activist with a special affinity for cats. She didn’t own a pet for the simple reason that she was traveling too much and couldn’t take it with her, but it was something she longed to have. Because it’s my philosophy that people should think before they speak, I didn’t offer to let her have a cat. I needed to see how well she worked out as a boarder first. I also wanted to see how much she’d be home to take care of it.
Evan Ottenburg was the writer. Information on him was a bit harder to acquire, but I managed to get enough to feel comfortable about renting to him. He was a clean cut, nice looking guy who was in his mid-thirties. Unlike Angela, his features didn’t make him stand out as soon as he entered a room. He blended with the crowd in a way that allowed him the anonymity I assumed he sought when people watching and coming up with ideas for his stories.
It didn’t hurt that he’d already met Angela in passing while visiting Megan’s shop and they spoke of each other in a way that made me believe them to be compatible. Just to make sure, I held a small dinner party and invited them, along with Megan, the sheriff, Max Orwell, and the owner of the town’s weekly paper, Joslin Camp.
As I’d expected, Evan and Joslin took an instant liking to each other. It was by listening to their conversation that I learned that Evan started his writing career as a journalist for the New York Post. He eventually grew tired of the rat race and tried his hand at writing fiction. His talent as a word sleuth, combined with his connections in the media world, gave him the foundation to help get the publicity he needed for his first novel to become a best seller. He wrote under a pseudo-name, but I learned that was quite common. A lot of writers did this for a variety of reasons; mainly the anonymity factor.
I chuckled when I saw Angela’s reaction to Max when he stepped onto my front porch and offered me a bottle of wine as his contribution to the evening. I’d had the same reaction when I first met him. Who wouldn’t? He stood an easy inch or two over six feet tall with shoulders that resembled those of a football player. His broad chest tapered down to narrow hips and a tight butt. His pants didn’t hug his thighs, but I could tell that they were well-formed and muscular. I expected him to tell me that he was a body builder, but it was far from the truth. He got his powerful physique from the hard labor that was required of successful farmers and he kept it by keeping busy in the out of doors doing things like hunting, camping and hiking. He was also known to pitch in during haying season should a farmer find himself shorthanded; which was often. His thick, sandy blonde hair was just long enough to cover the top of his ears. It fell across his forehead in a way that drew attention to his sky-blue eyes.
Had I been looking for a boyfriend, I would have definitely set my sights on Max. As it was, I was far too focused on getting my career off the ground to want to spare the time I felt would be necessary to maintain a relationship with a man that was anything more than casual friendship.
This had been my thought process since I’d graduated high school. Believe it or not, I went on exactly two dates while in college; both of which turned out disastrous. I was of the frame of mind that dinner and a movie warranted a thank you and a nice evening kiss while my dates felt it deserved a wild bout in bed. Since I was still a virgin and found neither of them hot enough to tempt me to change that status at the time, I sent them packing. They didn’t call for a second date and I was just as happy. I knew that when the time was right, I’d settle down with a man. Now just wasn’t the time. Since I’d always been fine with my own company, I wasn’t worried.
Dinner proved not only entertaining, but it seeded the beginning of several friendships. Once again, I praised Megan for her genius. I couldn’t imagine how different my life would have been had I never walked into her antique shop.
Life was going so well that I’d completely forgotten about the fact that I’d taken the job with the intention of being the savior who discovered what was causing so many deaths. It was probably because there had been no deaths since my arrival. That changed on the anniversary of my fifth month in town.It was a Wednesday evening. It had been a particularly grueling day with difficult and uncooperative patients. Old man Smithson’s gout was acting up again and, of course, he had to argue with me as to what diet worked best to prevent the gout that was returning more and more frequently. Grannie Oleson had yet another asthma attack. As hard as I tried to convince her that she was allergic to the twelve cats she owned, I got nowhere. So, I simply treated her with herbs to help keep her passageways as clear as could be expected under the circumstances and wrote a prescription for an inhaler that Iwas certain she’d
I’d had no call to be around Zacharias Bolt before Jacob’s death. I thought it unfortunate that I found him to be a bit odd, since his was the only funeral home for several towns and I was the recently appointed official county medical examiner.Zacharias’ family had been in stiff competition with the Crowley family for the funeral business of the area for several generations. This, along with an over-abundance of fumes from embalming chemicals were surely what lend to his unlikeable personality. The smirk on his narrow and pinched face when he inspected the remnants of the Crowley morgue while delivering Jacob’s corpse to me was an immediate indication as to the person I’d be dealing with. He wasted no time comparing his state of the art set up to my pathetic -yes, he used the word ‘pathetic’- and antiquated one while speculating on the poor workmanship that surely was produced as a result.He clearly had no
I’d spent far too much time over lunch with Angela and Peter. By the time I got back home, it was almost four o’clock. There was no sense in starting the autopsy when I’d have to man my office for walk-ins from six pm until eight pm.I checked my calendar for the next day and saw that it was full. That left me no choice. I’d have to perform the autopsy after I closed the office at eight that evening. Since I’d had minimal sleep the night before because of a guilty conscience over my lustful actions in the presence of a dead man after working well into the night taking an inventory and moving a few things around in the morgue, I’d been looking forward to a decent night’s sleep. Hopefully I could discover what killed Jacob quickly and that would still happen.I decided to relax until it was time to run my office, so I fixed myself a cup of hot tea, grabbed the mystery I’d started a few da
With less than an hour before I had to open the office for potential walk-in patients, I decided to make a quick run to the grocery store for a few incidentals that I was about to run out of. I was debating about buying Folgers coffee or a new organic Hawaiian blend when the handsome Dr. Thomason came up behind me.“I’d go for the Folgers,” he said in the most intimate fashion imaginable into my left ear.I could feel his breath on the back of my head as my body tingled from head to toe. “I’ve always liked Folgers, but it’s not organic.”“I’d be careful with organic if I were you,” he offered. “That one’s fine because it comes from the United States and we have strict regulations, but a lot of the organic food comes from countries without laws to protect you. Organic to them isn’t always organic as we see it. You’re safer with American grown, even if it&rs
In the two hours that the office was opened for walk-in business I saw one sprained wrist that was acquired at an after-school sporting event and one ear infection. In between them I sat and chatted about anything and everything with Peter. I found him super easy to relax around.Evelyn arrived around ten minutes after eight. Peter asked to assist me with her foot infection and, since Evelyn had no objections, I accepted his help. I listened and observed as Peter peppered her with a myriad of questions that I would have never thought to ask. Little by little he rooted out of her tight-lipped persona that she kicked her shoes off immediately upon getting home and didn’t put them back on until she was required to for work. There are many people who don’t wear shoes at home, so that, in itself, wasn’t the issue. The issue was the fact that she lived in a communal environment with dirt floors and an outhouse. This meant that, even t
It was well after midnight before Max was satisfied that he’d checked all he could for a clue as to who stole the body enough to depart. I was exhausted. In fact, I was so exhausted that when Peter said that he should probably call a cab to take him to his hotel instead of imposing on me to drive him there, I almost agreed. Instead, I suggested that he stay in one of the many rooms my house possessed.I struggled to keep my body functioning long enough to supply him with some of the things I’d been taught by my parents to keep on hand in the event of unexpected guests, such as a toothbrush, toothpaste, showering supplies, and in his case, shaving supplies. He smiled appreciatively at me as he hugged his goodies to his chest and made his way to the room I’d suggested he use. It had an en suite bathroom, as did many, so he wouldn’t have to venture back out into the hall untilhe’d slept and was refreshed.
The day went faster than I thought it would. True to his word, Peter lessened my load by helping me with whatever patients I felt comfortable having him see. It was both refreshing and reassuring when several of them insisted on seeing me. I know it’s silly of me to worry, but with such a large education debt looming over me, I was a little fearful of failure. Not to mention that walking in Peter’s shadow was a bit intimidating.He kept himself busy in between patients by tending to some of the filing and making reminder phone calls to those who had appointments the next day.When the last patient left, I leaned against the door after locking it and smiled my thanks to him. “I appreciate your help.”“We make a good team,” he said as hestood up and stretched in a cat-like manner. “How about some dinner?”“I’m too tired to cook.”“I’ve lived
It took yet another long shower and several minutes of standing in front of the mirror talking to myself to get my body and my mind back on track after such a horrific night of dreaming. I was still very tired, but felt a few cups of strong coffee would change that. Having three showers within a twenty-four-hour period was an excellent way to dry out my skin, so I took the time to slather on body lotion before getting dressed and going downstairs.For the first time since I’d moved to Wolf Junction and set up my office, I was thankful for the light day that I had scheduled with patients. I rarely felt as tired as I had over the last few days. I decided that I’d let my immune system weaken with all of the stress over a lost corpse and other things, like rolling on the ground in a lover’s embrace right next to that corpse with the sheriff and having sex on my kitchen counter and then my examination table with a fellow physician. What go