Page 27 of Double Take

Locked.

Of course, he’d need a key card to get in.

He pounded on the door. “Lainie! You in there? You okay?” Silence. He knocked again. “Hey, Lainie. Open up.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” The door swung open and Lainie’s ashen face and terrified gray eyes greeted him. “James?”

“What happened?” His hands came up to grip her biceps, and he felt the tremors coursing through her. Pain shot through him at all his actions. He ignored it. “I heard something that sounded like someone fell or ... something.”

She waved him inside and motioned to the overturned chair on the floor. “I stumbled over that.” She picked it up and shoved it under the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you. Maggie said you were here sleeping.” He followed her inside and led her to the chairs in front of the television. She dropped into one, and he turned his so that he faced her, then settled into it with slow, careful movements. “What happened? Did you ... have an episode?”

“No. At least not like what you’re thinking.” She studied him a moment, then sighed and rubbed her eyes. “You know how I said I kept seeing my ex?”

“Yes.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the sticky note.

“‘Cheers, love’?” He looked up, questions in his eyes.

Lainie nodded, blinking at tears. She sniffed and the sound nearly broke his heart. “Adam used to say that all the time,” she said. “He was obsessed with all things British and used to say that in a British accent. Whoever left that might as well have written, ‘I’m back,’ but ... how can he be back?”

“He can’t be.”

“I know that!” Her shout echoed around the room and sheclapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she whispered through her fingers. “I shot him, James. I shot him in the throat. He was dead at the scene in spite of my attempts at CPR.” She swallowed hard. “I got a pulse back for just a moment, then it was gone again. And then the paramedics were there and...” Her bewildered gaze connected with his. “I’ve been to his grave. I ... just ... don’t understand ... I ... just don’t.”

His own pain escalated at the bewilderment in her words and tone. “There’s probably a very good explanation for this.”

“Like what?”

“I have no idea. Someone you’ve made angry and is trying to get back at you? Someone playing a very not-funny practical joke?”

“I can’t imagine that, but it’s possible, of course.” She palmed her eyes, smearing what little was left of the black mascara. Before he could mention it, she stood. “I need to get out of here.” She paused, looking at him. “What did your test results say?”

“They came back clear and another doctor signed off on my discharge papers so you wouldn’t have to be disturbed.”

“Oh. But why are you still here?”

“I got home and realized I ... uh ... wanted your phone number.”

“You got home and came back? Please tell me you didn’t drive.”

“Cole brought me.”

“He’s a good friend.”

“Better than I deserve. He said to text him when I was ready to leave.”

She paused, then sputtered a shaky laugh. “Wait, your words just registered. You wanted my phone number? For what?”

Was he an idiot? He’d give anything to be able to stop the heat creeping up the back of his neck that, from previous experience, was getting ready to flood into his cheeks. “So I could text you. Keep in touch with you.”

“Um, okay. Steph has my number, you know.”

“I know.” He sighed. “But then I’d have to explain why I wanted it and...” Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Ah ... right. Okay.” After a narrow-eyed look, she gave him the number, and he tapped it into his phone, then she slipped her feet into her shoes.

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