Where There's Smoke
“He can keep them off my property. They can still park in the street, which I’m sure they’ll do. For the next several days, we’ll be under siege. Maybe you ought to take this week off.”
“Not on a bet. I wouldn’t desert you to fight off these jackals alone.” As Lara slipped out of her suit jacket, Nancy took it from her and noticed the damp lining. “I’ve never seen you secrete a drop of sweat. I doubted you even had sweat glands.”
“That’s nervous perspiration. They ambushed me at the funeral.”
“Those buzzards.”
“Make up your mind. Buzzards or jackals.” It was comforting to know she had retained her sense of humor.
“Doesn’t matter. They’re both scavengers. I ought to get Clem over here with his shotgun. That would scatter them.”
“I appreciate the gesture, but no thanks. I don’t need the bad publicity,” Lara said grimly. “Before I even got a foothold on being Dr. Mallory, a small-town doctor, I’m once again Lara Porter, Clark Tackett’s married lover.”
Nancy’s face reflected her regret. “It’s such a damn shame. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. I’ll need all the friends I can get.” She sighed with consternation. “I wasn’t actually in hiding, but I didn’t want my whereabouts publicized for fear that something like this would happen. Someone deliberately stirred up this hornets’ nest. I don’t believe for a moment that it evolved on its own.”
“Tackett’s the name. Treachery’s the game.”
Lara looked sharply at her nurse. “Key?”
Nancy shook her head. “Isn’t his style. My guess is the old lady. You’re making headway here. Not in leaps and bounds, but in baby steps. She can’t tolerate that. Jody heard about that little girl dying, knew that you’d been the first attending doctor, and saw a chance to create a ruckus.”
“She could have done that when I moved to town.”
“But it would have come out that Clark set you up here. That would have implied that he was still emotionally attached to you. Jody didn’t want to flatter you that much. This time, Clark’s out of the picture.”
What Nancy said made sense. Lara headed for her office. “I doubt any patients will even attempt to get in today, but I’ll be in my office if I’m needed.”
She pulled down the window shades so she wouldn’t have to witness the destruction of her lawn under the trampling feet of eager reporters. Once seated at her desk, she consulted the telephone directory. Her personality had undergone some drastic changes since that morning in Virginia. She was older now, tougher, and she wasn’t going to take persecution lying down. Reaching for the phone, she dialed a number.
“Miss Janellen?”
“Bowie! What are you doing here?”
She was seated at the kitchen table, staring at the telephone she’d just hung up. He had poked his head around the door. She signaled him in.
“Seems like I’m always sneaking up on you, pulling you out of deep thought. I don’t mean to.” He moved into the room, looking uneasy. “The, uh, maid told me to come on back. If this is a bad time for you…”
“No, it’s all right. I’m just surprised to see you here.”
“I tried the office first, then the shop. They told me there that you’d knocked off early today.”
“My mother wasn’t feeling well this morning when I left for work, and I was worried about her.” As usual, when in Bowie’s presence, she felt tongue-tied. She indicated one of the chairs across the kitchen table from her. “Sit down. I was about to have som
e tea. Would you like some?”
“Tea?” Dubiously he glanced at the steaming kettle on the stove. “Hot tea? It’s a hundred degrees outside.”
“I know, but, well, I like tea,” she said with an apologetic shrug. “It’s soothing.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Something else then? Lemonade? A soft drink? A beer? Key keeps beer in the fridge.”
“No, thanks. Besides, I can’t sit down. I’m dirty.”
He looked wonderful to her. Until he called her attention to it, she hadn’t noticed the dirt smeared on his jeans and shirt. Hunks of it clung to the soles of his boots. It was embedded in the grain of his leather work gloves, which he’d stuck into his belt, and his hat, too, was dusty.