was determined to get in. They pressed their finger to the ringer, refusing to let it stop until he’d stomped through the house to yank open the door.
The angry words that trembled on his lips died as he realized it was Lynne standing on the porch.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded in surprise.
She was bundled from head to toe in winter gear, but she still looked cold. “I thought you could use some company.”
Kir hurriedly stepped back, allowing her to enter the living room so he could close the door. “What about your patients? Or whatever they’re called.”
She kicked off her boots on the small mat before moving toward the center of the living room. It wasn’t a large room, but it felt empty. Maybe because the walls were bare, and the only furniture was a worn recliner and an old television on a rickety stand in a far corner. Or maybe it was because his father wasn’t there.
“The animals are my patients, and the owners are my clients.” She pulled off her stocking cap and coat, laying them on the worn brown carpet before sending him a smile. “But I usually call them friends and family. That’s who they are to me. Especially the animals.”
His heart lurched. Why hadn’t he ever noticed her smile? It was captivating.
He stepped toward her. “You always did have a preference for four-legged creatures.”
“They’re a lot easier to understand.”
“True.” His lips twisted as he considered his years of dealing with angry customers. It’d made him appreciate the thought of retiring one day with a loyal dog and a cabin in the middle of nowhere. “So shouldn’t you be taking care of your furry friends?”
She shrugged. “I’m finished with the surgery I had scheduled, and my interns can deal with the routine cases. If an emergency comes in, they’ll call.”
“I know I ran out of your clinic like a madman, but I really am okay. You don’t have to keep an eye on me.”
He used a light tone, trying to hide his abrupt realization that he was glad she was there. He hadn’t been aware of how many ghosts haunted this house. Not until she stepped through the door and battled them back with her smile.
“It wasn’t just concern for you that brought me here,” she said.
“No?”
“After you left, I finally realized what you were talking about.”
His lips twisted into a wry smile. “It was more a babble than actual talking,” he conceded. “I was a little distracted.”
“I get it.” She held his gaze. “When Parker mentioned that a dead woman had been found, you were afraid it might have something to do with the letters your father had been getting, weren’t you?”
Kir made a sound of surprise. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “You know about them?”
She hesitated, considering her words before she spoke. “Your father called me a couple months ago.”
“Was that unusual?”
“Yes. I tried to stop by and visit when I had the time, but after Butch died, I didn’t come here as often as I should have,” she admitted, referring to Rudolf ’s beloved hound dog. “We drifted apart over the past year.”
Pain sliced through Kir. How many times had he told himself that he needed to call his father? And how many times had he told himself that he would do it later? A shrink would no doubt call it “avoidance.” He called it being a shitty son. “What did he want?”
“He said he’d gotten a letter.”
“Why would he involve you?”
“Because he was convinced I was being hunted by a serial killer.”
Kir sucked in a sharp breath. “Why didn’t you call and let me know he’d contacted you?”
She waved her hand in an apologetic gesture. “To be honest, I didn’t pay any attention to his warning. He’d called the office when I was in the middle of delivering a litter of pups, demanding to speak to me. When I got on the phone his words were slurred, as if he’d been drinking, and he just kept saying over and over I was going to be murdered. When I pressed him for details, he said that he had been getting letters from some mysterious lunatic who was intending to kill the women of Pike. I honestly thought he was confusing the plot of a movie he was watching with real life.” She glanced toward the empty chair in the corner, her expression one of regret. “After work I ran by his house and he didn’t even remember calling me. I