Resisting Her English Doc

“How did you do that?” He turned to Fleur, who was sitting in the passenger seat, clutching Jess’s lamp.

“It’s just a couple of warm air humidifiers, with the outlets placed on each side of the doorway. When the warm air hits the cold, you get mist. Pamela wouldn’t let me do it inside, because it might damage the books.”

The Bradys’ car drew up next to theirs, and the three younger Draculas tumbled out. The eldest saw a group of his friends and ran across the road to join them.

“Ethan! That’s a dollar you owe me.” Jim’s voice boomed out, and all the boys jumped.

“Dad...” Ethan Brady protested, and Rick heard Jess giggle in the back seat.

“That’s the third time he’s fined Ethan this week. Dad says that it doesn’t matter if everyone else gets away with jaywalking, we have to abide by the letter of the law.”

“No favorites, eh?” Rick wondered whether Fleur saw what he did. That Sheriff Brady was a very different kettle of fish from Sheriff Taylor. That it would be safe for her to go back and find out what she didn’t know about that night because, whatever happened, Rick would protect her.

Jim’s smiling face appeared at the car window. “Are you ready to make me the proudest man on the island, Jess?”

“Dad...” It was Jess’s turn to protest, but she grinned as she did so. She got out of the car, taking her father’s arm, and Fleur handed the lamp to her.

“I suppose you’re not going to tell me how you did the thing with the candle.”

Fleur laughed. “No. It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

“Really? What you’ve done for Jess tonight is real enough.”

Fleur’s proud smile told him that it was real enough for her, too. She got out of the car, adjusting her swords across her back, and Ellie took her hand, attacking the piles of snow with her dagger. Jess entered the library on her father’s arm and a posse of girls crowded around her. Jim was persuaded to let his daughter go, but his fond gaze followed her as she was borne away, the center of attention and loud admiration for her costume.

Clever lighting, combined with a generous helping of cobwebs, had turned the library into a shadowy, spooky world. Books and comics were laid out on one of the large tables, with food on another, a cake with a spider’s web frosted on the top, complete with an icing spider, and another emblazoned with a skull-and-crossbones. Rick imagined that the warring cake shops had been persuaded to allow their provender to appear on the same table in honor of the occasion, but that the respective owners would be keeping a keen eye out to see which was the most popular.

Salty Harrington was parked in one corner in his wheelchair, in charge of storytelling, and Ellie had run off to join the circle of children around him. A cocked hat, an eye patch and a wicked-looking cutlass were all that Salty needed to look exactly like a pirate. Fleur had left him too, to speak with a mummy who he guessed was Pamela, although it was difficult to tell under all those bandages. A taller mummy, who arrived with a drinks for them both, and pressed his bandaged mouth against Pamela’s bandaged cheek, must be her husband.

The clinic staff were out in force, along with a few of the patients. Summer Ryan, the daycare assistant, was dressed as a white witch, complete with a basket of fragrant herbs. And the new spinal surgeon, Dr. Rafael Valdez, wore an immaculate dark suit and top hat, his face painted to resemble a skull, with intricate traceries of black and red on his cheeks and forehead. His little daughter Gracie was clinging to his hand, dressed as a fairy princess. Rick smiled. If Ellie was anything to go by, three-year-old girls rarely wanted to dress as anything else.

Wondering what Salty was filling the children’s heads with, he wandered over. Ellie was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a dozen others, drinking in the story.

“Are there trolls on the ship, Uncle Salty?” One of two identically dressed trolls, with pointed hats and patchwork jerkins over colored leggings and boots, piped up.

“Every ship has trolls, little ’un. Two trolls together is especially lucky.” The two little girls squealed with delight, and Rick saw Cody’s head turn at the sound of his daughters’ voices. It seemed that Cody’s imagination had been exhausted by finding costumes for his girls, and he’d come in a surgical mask and gown, looking exactly the same as he did most days at the clinic.

“No doctors in fancy weskits, though...” Rick jumped as Salty singled him out for comment and grinned, moving away. Clearly Salty had had his fill of doctors today.

Fleur was still talking to Pamela and Rick made his way over to the drinks table, accepting a fizzing purple concoction from a red-haired Bigfoot in a leather jacket. Tonight was going to be an interesting night.

* * *

The night had been a success. Mollie Gardener hadn’t turned up but her husband had, telling anyone who would listen that she would have loved to come along but she’d been struck down with a headache. Fiona Brady, who made an extraordinarily benevolent-looking wicked witch, had mouthed in Rick’s direction that Mollie was regretting her show of malice, since no one had been much inclined to support her in it.

The decorations were judged fabulous, and all the children left with goodie bags containing comics and sweets. Salty had been loaded back onto the clinic’s patient transport vehicle, waving his cutlass as he went, and Ellie had joined a group of the other children who were going to a sleepover at the childcare center. A band of women were sweeping paper plates and cups into rubbish bags, and Fleur was standing by the doorway, bidding everyone goodbye.

Rick waited. It seemed entirely wrong to go now. He wanted her to himself, just for a few minutes. And finally, as the last of the partygoers drifted to their cars, they were alone.

“You heard about Mollie?”

“Yes, I did. Fiona told me.” Fleur’s smile told him that the information hadn’t been lost on her. The island had made its decision and chosen her over Mollie. Perhaps that would change her mind about looking at the sheriff’s file, but he wouldn’t press her tonight about it.

“Where’s Pamela?” Rick looked around.

“She was dreadfully nervous about this evening and ended up downing one too many of those purple cocktails. Her husband’s taken her off for a lie-down in the family pyramid.”

“She needn’t have worried. Tonight was amazing.” The library looked even spookier now that it was empty. Long, dark shadows, one of which seemed to be moving...