Autumn Feast - Charlie Richards Page 0,39
He glanced up at the big maple tree, admiring its colors. He watched the leaves gently fall to the ground. Something didn’t quite seem right. There was a pile of leaves at least four feet high all around the circumference of the tree trunk, yet the tree was still in full foliage. That was strange.
When Hamish came outside, Liam pointed to the tree. “How did all those leaves end up over there you think?”
Hamish shrugged, not appearing to be too interested. “I don’t know. Maybe the direction of the wind.”
Liam knew he had other things on his mind. “Is your back sore?” Liam asked him, changing the subject.
Hamish started the engine. “No. But last night I felt itchy. It was weird. It didn’t last, so I figured it for a fluke.”
Liam fell silent. Every time Hamish’s wings appeared, it meant something was up. But what could possibly be wrong out here in the middle of nowhere?
Hamish dropped him off at the clinic but didn’t stay. He said something about needing to go home and finish unpacking.
Liam stood on the street corner and watched him go. He was worried.
The clinic was on the ground floor of a two-story building. On the second floor there was a small infirmary, and right beside him was the drug store.
He keyed opened the door and walked in. The waiting room was impeccable. There was a big desk in front for the secretary. He hadn’t met her yet. The nurse’s office was to the left, and at the end of the hallway was the doctor’s office and examining rooms. The name Doctor Samuel Morgan was still on the door.
Liam walked in and fired up the computer. The password was taped to the desk. He’d change it once he got into the files. As he began to read the patient profiles, he forgot about everything.
When he heard a familiar voice calling to him, he sat back in his swivel chair and rubbed his eyes. “In here, Hamish,” he called out. “What time is it?”
Hamish walked in with a picnic hamper. “It’s lunchtime.”
Liam laughed. “I’ve lost all sense of time, it seems. What’s with the picnic basket? Are we eating outside?”
“Ha, ha. I couldn’t find anything else to put it in. I made tuna sandwiches, and there’s potato salad.” He began unpacking the food.
“Yum.” Liam grinned. “You made the potato salad?”
“Right,” he said, making a face as he put down paper plates. “The supermarket made it, or some company from”—he eyed the label—”New York.”
“That’s okay. I’m hungry,” Liam said, taking a bite of his sandwich. He checked the clock. “It’s almost one o’clock.” He eyed him. “Are you okay?”
Hamish sat back in a chair across from Liam and forked potato salad into his mouth. “I guess. We’ll be all right here.” He grabbed a sandwich. “Is there coffee?”
“Yes, there’s one of those coffee pod machines in the kitchen. Want some?”
“Later. So, interesting patient files?” Hamish asked as they ate.
“Usual—diabetes, problems with blood pressure, arthritis, repetitive strain injury, heart attacks, nothing to write home about.” He took some more of the potato salad. “This is good, probably not good for you, but tasty.”
Hamish smiled. “Are you hanging around, or would you like me to come back?”
“I have other things to do,” Liam said. “There are some prescriptions to renew that are close to expiring. I should do that right away and give them to the pharmacist. It’ll save me time next week.”
“Okay.”
“Have a coffee first,” Liam said, once again glancing at the screen.
“No, I’ll leave you to it, take this home. Call me when you’re finished. I’ll come and get you.”
Liam got to his feet, kissed him. “Thanks, gorgeous.”
After Hamish left, Liam concentrated on his patient files again, deciding which prescriptions he needed to renew right away, and which could wait.
When he heard a noise out in the waiting area, Liam thought Hamish had come back again. Liam hadn’t bothered locking the door behind him. Maybe he should have. “Hamish, did you forget something?”
A young man was standing in the reception area—a stranger. Blond with light azure blue eyes, he was boyish with a slight frame and a sublime smile. “Hello, Liam,” he said softly. His voice was fine and a little higher pitched than one would expect from a young man of say, twenty.
“Ah, hello.” Liam raised an eyebrow. “Do I know you?” He’d called him Liam. His name wasn’t even on the door yet.
“No,” he said, “but I know you.” He looked around. “I must have missed