A Matter of the Heart. Patricia Davids

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ he made a mental note to look up her partner’s credentials. Rob had already checked Nora’s. They were impressive.

      He opened the door and stuck his head inside. A middle-aged woman with impossibly black hair teased in a 1970s flip sat behind an immaculate rosewood desk centered between two identical doors. Nora stood beside her. Two additional open doorways at each end of the reception area revealed examination rooms that were currently empty.

      Rob winked at the secretary. “You must be Carmen. I’m Rob Dale. Is it safe to come in?”

      She hid a smile with difficulty as she glanced between Nora and him. “For the moment.”

      “Good.” He entered the stark office with plain white walls and a half dozen reception-style maroon chairs lining the perimeter. “How’s Harold getting along?”

      “He’s much better, thank you.”

      Nora’s frown deepened as she glared at her secretary. “Do you know this man?”

      Rob walked forward and grasped Carmen’s plump fingers. He gave them a squeeze. “We’ve spoken on the phone so many times this week that I feel like Carmen is an old friend.”

      Carmen batted her eyes. “You’re just as charming in person as you are on the telephone.”

      “Not nearly as charming as you are. I would have braved the dragon days ago if I had known how pretty you were. I’m so glad to hear Harold is doing better. I’ve been praying for him.”

      Nora’s mouth dropped open. “Who are you calling a dragon and who is Harold?”

      “Harold is Carmen’s husband. He had a nasty bout of pneumonia. It’s a good thing her daughter was able to come over and take care of him since Carmen couldn’t get time off from work,” Rob said, enjoying Nora’s obvious confusion.

      Nora folded her arms across her chest as she frowned at her secretary. “You didn’t mention you needed time off.”

      Tilting her head to one side, Carmen said, “Actually, I did ask for a few days off last week, but you said your schedule was full and that I was needed here.”

      “Oh, yes. I remember that. Well…you should have made a point of telling me it was a family emergency.”

      “I’ll be more clear in the future, Dr. Blake.”

      “Carmen is not my regular secretary,” Nora said, giving Rob a pointed look.

      Carmen nodded. “I’m a temp. I fill in for Delia when she takes time off. She goes to Vegas every chance she gets. I think she has a boyfriend there.”

      “All right then.” Nora’s smile looked forced. “Carmen, Mr. Dale will be shadowing me for a few days. Please get him a set of scrubs.”

      Rising from her chair, Carmen said, “Dr. Kent has several sets in his office. I’ll get one for you. You look about the same size.”

      Nora walked toward the inner office on the right and Rob followed.

      Inside, a quick glance around the room revealed a large oak desk with two chairs facing it. They matched the chairs lining the outer office—none of which looked made for comfort. On the desk were an oversized paper pad and a computer screen. Several filing cabinets sat beneath a wide window with a nice view of downtown Austin in the distance. A tall, gray metal wardrobe took up the remaining space in the corner. There was a closed door on the near wall. Rob assumed it connected to the exam room. On the opposite wall was a small taupe sofa. He crossed the room and sat down.

      Reaching out, he plucked several long blond hairs from a faint depression in the padded arm. A green-and-red plaid throw blanket lay draped over the other end of the couch.

      “Do you sleep here a lot?” he asked, looking to where she stood pulling open the small wardrobe.

      She withdrew a set of green scrubs on hangers. “Occasionally, when I need to remain in the hospital.”

      “Your home is in Prairie Springs, isn’t it? That’s only thirty minutes from here.”

      “Thirty minutes is a long time when a patient needs their chest reopened.” Spinning around, she held the scrubs close to her chest like a flimsy cloth shield. “How do you know where I live?”

      He rose from the sofa and crossed to stand in front of the wall behind her desk where a half dozen framed certificates hung in two neat rows.

      “I do my research, Nora. You graduated from Albertville High School in Boston at the precocious age of fifteen and at the head of your class. You finished pre-med at Columbia in three years and entered medical school with top honors. You joined the army and studied at Walter Reed where you chose to specialize in cardiac surgery. After that, you did your peds cardiac fellowship at the Cleveland Clinic. You were married briefly—”

      “I know my own history,” she interrupted quickly.

      “Of course.”

      He turned to study the silver-framed photo on her desk. Picking it up, he compared the young woman’s face in the picture to Nora’s. There wasn’t a resemblance. The snapshot was of a smiling woman in her early twenties with thick brown hair that cascaded around a delicate oval face. “Pretty girl. Who is she?”

      Nora took the frame from him and replaced it in the exact spot at the right-hand corner of her desk. “My stepdaughter. Since you seem to be so well versed about me, Mr. Dale, I think it’s only fair that you reciprocate.”

      He held his hands wide. “My life is an open book.”

      “Somehow, I doubt that.”

      “What would you like to know? I graduated from high school in Dodge City, Kansas—not even close to the top of my very small class. I drifted between majors at the local junior college and finally ended up in the army. It didn’t take me long to realize that I wanted to be a ranger. Those guys do the fun stuff. Twelve years later, I decided I was getting too old to go jumping out of planes. A desk job or training new recruits didn’t appeal to me, so I opted to leave the service.”

      “How does one decide that digging into other people’s lives makes a worthwhile second profession?”

      “That was easy. I was sitting in a café in the busy capital of a small Middle Eastern country and relating the tale of how I met a pair of gunrunners to some friends. A man at the next table leaned over and asked me if I could help him get an interview with the unsavory duo. The guy turned out to be Derrick Mitchell, a senior reporter for Liberty and Justice . When my story panned out, he got promoted and asked me to come to work for him.”

      “Just like that? You didn’t study journalism for years or work your way up from copy boy to the newsroom?”

      Her sarcasm didn’t offend him. He rather enjoyed the way she lifted her chin and tried to talk down to him although she was a good four inches shorter than his six-foot frame. He sensed it was a ruse designed to put him off. It didn’t work.

      “Nope. The job just fell into my lap. I believe the good Lord puts me where I am needed most.”

      She looked down and smoothed the fabric she held with one hand. “Yes, I imagine СКАЧАТЬ