No Good Deed - Marie Sexton Page 0,18
and a hard place. Charlie could send her home, then call the cops, but that would be violating one of the unspoken rules of his clinic. No questions asked, and no cops. Besides, her boyfriend might decide to turn the tables and point the cops Charlie’s direction for his illegal clinic.
He sighed, hoping he wasn’t about to make a terrible mistake. “I can give you some clonidine.”
“Is that a painkiller?”
“No, but it’s used to treat opioid addiction. It’ll ease the withdrawal symptoms.”
She nodded with obvious relief. “Okay. That’ll be better than nothing.”
“This is a onetime offer though. If he wants to try the clonidine long-term, he needs to go to one of those clinics. And the next time he beats you up and sends you down here, I’m calling the cops, even if I get myself in trouble too. Understand?”
She nodded.
“Okay. Wait here.”
He left the room, already doubting his decision. He should have just told her no.
Except then he’d undoubtedly be sending her home for another beating.
The master bath had a shower stall wedged into the corner, rather than a bathtub. Charlie stepped into it. The bottom half was tile, but the upper portion was covered by a thick, plastic panel. Charlie grabbed the top of it, angling his fingers underneath. He gave it hard yank, pulling it off the wall, revealing the safe hidden behind it.
“Who did that to her?”
Charlie jumped. He hadn’t heard Jonas come in behind him. He wished he hadn’t. He trusted Jonas, but he didn’t like anyone knowing where he kept the drugs. “Her boyfriend.”
“Jesus.”
“I don’t think he was involved.” Charlie put in the combination and opened the safe. The police could search his exam room top to bottom, and they wouldn’t find a damned thing that wasn’t one hundred percent legal. He kept everything he had no business having in here.
The clonidine would help treat her boyfriend’s cravings, but it was a Band-Aid, not a cure. Dread gnawed at his gut all the way back to the exam room.
“Here you go.” Next to the list of clinics was a list of shelters. He pulled one out and handed it to her. “These are places you can go day or night, if you need to get away from him.” He also pulled two business cards out of the drawer. “I want you to take these too. The first is a cop you can trust.” It should have been Gray’s card, but thanks to the media’s penchant for crucifying scapegoats, he had to settle for one of Gray’s buddies, Garbowsky, who Gray assured him was a good, trustworthy kind of guy.
MacKenna dropped the ice pack from her face, jutting her chin out defiantly. “I won’t call the cops on him.”
“Then use the second card.”
She eyed it. “An electrician?”
“That’s my friend Warren. You can call him anytime, day or night. He’s big, and scary, and he’s one tough son of a bitch. Even if you’re right in the middle of a fight, Warren will bust in there and get you out.”
She stared at the card for a long time. She seemed to be considering the possibility. “What happens after he gets me out?”
“He’ll take you to one of those shelters, unless you have someplace else to go.”
“Anytime?”
“Absolutely anytime.”
She nodded and slid the card into her back pocket. “Thank you.”
He hoped like hell she decided to use it.
Chapter 7
Jonas brewed a cup of tea for Charlie, figuring he could use it after the woman’s visit. Charlie’s eyes were pinched after escorting the woman out the door.
“I have a feeling I just made a big mistake.”
“I doubt it. You always do the right thing.”
Charlie’s snort of laughter told him he wasn’t so sure. “You have more faith in me than I do. But thanks for the tea.”
“Sure.” Jonas grinned, stepping closer. “I’m happy to help you burn off your frustration in others way too, if you like.”
Charlie ignored that. “Did you get the results of your output test?”
Jonas sighed and took a step back, feeling chastised. “Yep. They gave me the all-clear.”
“What happens next?”
“The next thing is the one I’m dreading the most. Next to the surgery itself, that is. Blood tests, chest X-ray, CT scans, plus several hours of psychological testing. They do it all on the same day, and it takes six fucking hours.”
“Sounds tiring.”
“I keep picturing it like a spy movie, with a bright light shining in my face and people in the shadows giving me the third degree.” He resisted the urge to chew a