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“Right, Mr. Bear-Stone gave us the sample. A bit unusual, but he told us you’re a forensic pathologist.”
Sample? Singular? I’m pretty sure he took three. When I look up at Raphael, I see something in his eyes that makes me keep my mouth shut about the extra samples. It’s not intimidation, it’s… a demand to trust him? Maybe the shock is finally kicking in and I’m hearing and seeing things.
A paramedic materializes in front of me and starts checking my ankle. I tell him that it’s just a sprain and that I’m a doctor—Doctor Death, some of the nurses at the hospital call me, but I still went to med school. He smiles condescendingly. It’s true that doctors are the worst patients, but his services really aren’t needed. After a short while, he leaves.
“Both your stories check out with the owner’s. The store cameras seem to have malfunctioned during the time of the attempted robbery,” the blonde officer says.
Weird.Did the robber have an accomplice?
“The guy didn’t wear gloves, so we’ll also get his fingerprints from the bag he left behind.”
I nod. No gloves, but he managed to take out the cameras?
“One more thing. Dr. Caldwell, you work close by at the Grand View hospital, correct?” the taller cop asks me, looking at his notes.
“Yes. I was going home when I stopped to buy some food,” I reply.
“Do you live around here?”
“The building two doors down.”
He nods and writes some more on his notepad. I had no idea police still use those, but these guys are probably in their sixties, so, technology-wise, that makes perfect sense.
“And you, Mr. Bear-Stone, what are you doing in this area?”
Mr. Bear-Stone… What a name. Everything about him is fancy. Raphael Bear-Stone. Wait, as in Bear-Stone Labs? Fuck! He’s the young president of the research company. I’ve seen that same face on the cover of a medical magazine. He’s not big on interviews, even though his company has made groundbreaking discoveries in the field of pathology and developed revolutionary pharmaceutical remedies. That’s why he looked familiar. I’m a big fan of his brother and his research work.
“I went to Paolo’s, the pizza place near here, with a friend. Just got here to grab a drink before heading back home,Officer… Peters.” Raphael reads the name on the cop’s uniform with a monotone voice. No trace of a smile on his lips anymore. “And could you please try and keep my name out of this?”
“Your actions were reckless, Mr. Bear-Stone. But you took part in disarming a robber and possibly saved lives. Don’t you want people to know that?”
“No, and Dr. Caldwell helped,” he just replies.
Tripping on top of a robber is not “helping.” It’s the start of a disaster that miraculously didn’t end badly.
“I have enough attention on me as it is. I’d prefer if the police could be discreet about it.”
“Right,” the cop mutters, sounding surprised. And, I have to admit, I’m a little surprised too.
Raphael throws him the same icy, intimidating stare he gave to the robber before. It shockingly has the same effect.
The cop averts his eyes and clears his throat. “We’ll do our best.”
His partner steps in and takes our phone numbers. He also tells us to go to the precinct in a few days to give our statements before we’re finally free to go.
Chapter 4
MICHAEL
Raphael is helping me up from the chair, when Mr. Polinisky shoves a plastic bag containing my chips, chocolate, and bottles of ginger ale into my chest, and two beers toward Raphael. He nods at us and then goes back behind the counter. I think that’s the best thank you we could get from the standoffish owner.
I’ll take you home,” Raphael states. Without waiting for my answer, he slides the beers in my bag and curls his muscular arm around my back. With his hand firmly gripping my hip, we slowly walk outside. This is better than being lifted like a fragile little thing, and I can still enjoy his intoxicating scent.
“Which way?” he asks.
“Left.” I try to keep the wince of pain off my face. The blood is rushing to my ankle again, and it feels like it has its own pulsing heartbeat. “Such a stupid injury. I had a damn gun pointed at my face and I hurt myself tripping on my own feet.”
“You made him bleed, babe.”
