Page 110 of Wife Number One

She took it from my fingers, holding it gingerly, carefully, like it was breakable. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you. I should get back to her.”

I didn’t want her to leave. Not because I liked the way her lips softly curled into a smile when her daughter was mentioned. It wasn’t even that she reminded me of someone else. It was that she was in danger, and I didn’t want to see the pink in her cheeks replaced with the bluish tinge of her sister’s in the morgue.

The tinge all dead bodies had once the life had been strangled out of them.

“Can I make a suggestion?” I asked her. “As a doctor who has studied psychology.”

She paused. “That’s your specialty?”

I frowned at her. “No, my specialty is glove balloon animals. Was that not obvious?”

She let out a small laugh. “Right, of course. My mistake.”

I moved out of the doorway, so she didn’t feel caged in, and leaned my ass back against the bed. “You’re clearly upset, and kids feel that, even when you think you’re hiding it well. I’m a good listener. It’s kinda what I get paid for, and people generally feel better when they share what’s on their minds.”

She touched her face self-consciously. “Is it that bad?”

Not a thing about her face was bad. “You just seem like you’re having a rough day.”

She plucked at the trunk of my balloon elephant, squeezing the tip between her fingers. “It’s not just today. It’s every day.”

I frowned, concerned again for her, but this time for a different reason. “Your friend out there…he’s not hurting you, is he?”

She shook her head quickly. “No. It’s not him.” She looked up at me. “Have you ever lost someone close to you?”

The question took me by surprise. I wasn’t used to having patients question me about my thoughts and feelings, and it was oddly uncomfortable.

The urge to make a joke came on strong, but there was a pleading in her eyes. A desperate need for her to not be the only person in the room going through something.

One I recognized because I saw it often in patients.

Even though I saw their pain, it had been easily kept away from my own.

But Kara’s pushed past the barriers I’d put up in an instant. In the same way she’d gotten under my skin the very first time I’d laid eyes on her just because she reminded me of someone else.

I found myself saying, “I lost my wife. It was a very long time ago. But she was murdered.”

Kara gasped. “My sister was murdered too. Just a few weeks ago.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to lie to her. “I know. I saw you at the morgue the night you identified her body.”

She blinked, and then recognition settled on her pretty face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even recognize you.” She bit her lip. “And I’m sorry for the way Hawk spoke to you that night too. You didn’t deserve to be attacked like that for just doing your job.”

I didn’t tell her I hadn’t been there on the hospital’s dime. It was understandable why she’d assume I might be. Medical professionals weren’t completely out of place in morgues, and I didn’t want to get Ron in any trouble for letting me in.

I cleared my throat. “Have you talked to the police about your sister? About the way she was killed?”

Kara nodded. “They have some suspects.”

“Did they mention the possibility of a serial killer by any chance?”

Kara looked at me sharply.

That expression was all I needed to know they had. She had that fear in her eye again, and so I spilled forth details I hadn’t said out loud to anyone in a very long time. “My wife was killed in the same way your sister was.”

Kara shook her head. “The police said that was a possibility, but there are other people…people much more likely to want her dead.”

I wanted to reach out and squeeze her fingers. Reassure her in some way, except there were no reassurances here.

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