Need You Now (Love in Unknown) - By Taylor M. Lunsford Page 0,15
could see one of the antique tables Clara Booth loved tipped over the flowers it held strewn across the floor. Stepping carefully into the house, she went first to the reception room. Glass shards littered the polished wood floors, broken out of the china hutch that held little medical knick knacks and pictures of Doc Booth with patients. She did her best to avoid the glass as she made her way to the supply closet that lay between Doc Booth’s office and the reception area. It used to be the butler’s pantry.
Rolls of gauze, packets of cotton swabs, and band-aids covered the long, narrow little room. A few bottles of alcohol and hydrogen peroxide must have been poured out, because puddles of liquid seeped into the supplies on the floor, the astringent odor stinging Mel’s eyes. The locked cabinets where they kept a small supply of prescription painkillers and antibiotics stood open, the locks obviously pounded off by a hammer or something heavy.
Doc’s office looked like a snowstorm of papers had erupted in it. Forty years of medical documents, thrown around into complete disarray. An ache of panic took root in Mel’s chest. Restoring everything would take weeks, maybe even months. At least they’d left Doc’s books alone. And his pictures. It would break his heart to lose those.
Rubbing her sternum, fighting to take slow, easy breaths, Mel climbed the stairs to check her office and the examination rooms. They’d hit her office even worse than Doc’s. Books tossed everywhere, a few looking like pages might have been torn out. Her keyboard had been thrown against the wall, her computer tower tipped over. The med school degree her mother had taken such pride in framing was knocked to the ground, glass broken and the fame cracked in half.
She bent over to look at the framed piece of paper. Maybe not knocked off the wall after all, she mused, noting that the cracks in the glass webbed out from one point of impact. A memory flashed through her head of her mother accidentally stepping on a hand mirror on the way to church one morning while wearing heels. The crack in the glass was almost identical.
“Mel? Melody! Where in the hell are you?”
Hearing Gage’s worried bellow, Mel left the disaster scene and went to the head of the stairs.
“I’m right—“ She stopped mid-sentence. Gage wasn’t alone. Caine stood behind his brother, a thunderous look on his handsome face. “—here. What are you doing here?”
Gage rolled his eyes. “I’m the police chief, genius. You called me, remember?”
She glared at him, annoyed at his attempt to lighten the atmosphere. The last thing she wanted –-or needed — to deal with right now, in the middle of this god-awful mess, was Caine Maddox. “You know I didn’t mean you, jerk face. Last time I checked, making calls to crime scenes at seven a.m. wasn’t on the mayor’s list of official duties.”
Caine gave her a dry look. “It is on the list if the crime scene happens to be at the work place of one of my oldest friends.”
And former fuck buddy. The last part lingered in the air between the three of them, unsaid, but obvious all the same. Gage looked between them before returning his attention to the mess. “Anything of value missing?”
“No.” Mel walked slowly down the stairs, her feet heavy. “They might have gotten some low grade painkillers and antibiotics. We don’t keep anything more valuable than the computers in the clinic.”
Mouth tightening, Gage prowled through the house, making his own assessment, leaving her alone with Caine.
“You okay?” The soft words held a note of worry that Mel would have found disconcerting any other time. Now, it was just comforting. For one weak moment, she wanted to melt into him. She knew from past experience how strong and safe those muscular arms of his were. Even when she was little, he’d been the one she wanted to comfort her when she fell and scraped her knee because she was trying to play with the big boys. It would be so easy to just give up and let him take care of her like that again.
Stay strong, Carr. He’s no good for you.
Those blue eyes bored into her head, willing her to meet them, which she did. “I’m…It’s hard to see. I grew up here. Feels like someone invaded my home.”
“How bad is it upstairs?” Caine looked as though he wanted to touch her, to put his arm around her or hold