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“Zee doesn’t talk,” Cole said, calling his brother’s bluff about his old partner from the Boston precinct.
“I know how to read between the lines.”
Cole was happy that Val and his team of federal agents had been assigned to interface with the Sheriff’s Department to investigate the drug issue plaguing Star Harbor. That meant his insightful older brother was around a lot. Yet he deliberately kept quiet about the relationships he’d had since returning from deployment. After the first few had gone south, he’d all but given up trying. Olivia had been a fluke—and the final straw. Things had been all right for a while, but once she’d asked him to move in with her, the relationship had gone downhill, fast.
Cole cleared his throat. “It’ll feel fine to do some real work again,” he said.
“Beats doing paperwork behind a desk.”
“I’m doing more than that,” Cole snorted, relieved that Val had moved on from talking about his love life.
“Mmm,” Val said. “Coffee’s fresh in the galley. Go grab some and then we’ll discuss what you can do for me today.”
Cole nodded. “I’ll be back in a few.” He turned and ducked back into the cabin. It would feel good to flex his muscles. He hadn’t done much physical labor since returning to town late last summer. Today, he’d skip his usual morning run and his weight-lifting session at the gym and put in a hard day of work on the boat. Life on the water was freeing, but it sure wasn’t easy, and Val could use all the help he could get.
Besides, it was the perfect way to get any lingering demons out of his head.
CHAPTER 2
“Okay, Billy, I’m almost finished. You’ve been a very brave boy,” Julie Kensington murmured as she finished making the last tiny stitch in Billy’s leg. The neat pattern ran two inches down the side of his right calf. The wound was red and puffy, but it would heal well. Expertly, she knotted the thread and began to put her instruments away. “All done,” she said, giving a nod to Billy’s parents, Pru and Harry Miller. “You can look now.”
The six-year-old waited a few seconds and then turned his tear-streaked face away from the shelter of his mother’s arms. After examining the stitches for a few moments, Billy spoke. “It looks like Frankenstein’s leg. It’s kinda cool.” He gave a little sniffle and wiped his nose on his mother’s expensive blouse. Pru didn’t look at all as if she minded.
“I’m going to bandage it up now, okay?” Julie took some gauze and arranged it over the wound, taping it down on unharmed tissue. “Billy had a tetanus shot recently, right?” she asked Pru, continuing to tidy up her work area. Her nurse, Lisa, would kill her if she left everything a shambles.
“Yes. He had his booster last year,” the petite woman confirmed, her brown bob swaying as she tipped her head up to her husband. “Right, Harry?”
Harry, a tall, square-jawed man, cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said, picking the little boy up in his arms. As soon as Billy was situated with his hurt leg carefully cradled, he placed his head in the crook between his father’s neck and shoulder and closed his eyes.
Julie smiled at the tender moment but got back to business right away. “One more thing,” she said. “I didn’t get a chance to see if the jungle gym was rusted. Do you remember?”
“I don’t think so,” Harry said. Pru just shrugged.
“Hmm. Why don’t I go by to take a look this evening? With these kinds of injuries, sometimes we do an extra booster, just in case, but it’ll depend on what I find.”
“Should we get one now to be safe?” Pru asked, standing.
“It’s not necessary. Billy’s been through enough today, and if he needs a booster, he’ll be fine as long as he gets one within forty-eight hours. Why don’t you give me the name of your Boston pediatrician so I can call tomorrow morning for a brief chat?” The Millers owned houses in both Star Harbor and Boston. That meant they had two sets of everything, including doctors.
“Ruth Walsham,” Pru said, scribbling on the back of a business card. “Here’s her number. We’d intended to head back to Boston tonight because Billy has school tomorrow, but if you think we need to stay—”
“Go. I’ll figure everything out and I’ll give you a call early tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Pru said, gratitude written all over her face. “We’ll go see Dr. Walsham if we have to.”
“I’ll call you before nine.” Julie shook her head. “I just can’t believe the jungle gym broke like that.”
“We were just getting in some play time before hitting the road. We didn’t think something like this was going to happen.” Pru reached up to the boy and began to stroke his hair. “Okay, honey, we’re going home. Would you like that?” Eyes still closed, Billy nodded, obviously overwhelmed by all the action.
“Take care,” Julie said as she saw the Millers out the front door of her office. She waited until they’d rounded the corner and then gently shut the door. She’d trained hard for emergencies like these, and though it was unfortunate that Billy had gotten hurt, she was glad to have a chance to demonstrate her expertise. That New England work ethic she’d inherited from her parents clearly ran deep.
Julie finished tidying up and then went to wash her hands with antiseptic soap one last time. Her long, straight hair was caught up in a high ponytail, but during all the excitement, wayward wisps had escaped and now framed her face. With still-damp hands, she smoothed back the stray strands. Then she dried her hands and gathered up her keys.
She stepped out into the cool early-evening air and locked the front door to her office and skimmed her hand over the Historical Landmark Registry plaque to the right of the door frame, just over the sign that said “Julia Kensington, MD.” She’d worked so hard to get here—incurring tens of thousands of dollars of debt to pay her way through school, pulling exhausting all-nighters to make sure she knew her coursework, and of course, giving up any semblance of a social life. She’d poured her soul into her education, and she’d finally done what she’d set out to do: make her parents proud by becoming a respected doctor.
Of course, they’d never gotten to see her success. She’d been in her seco
nd year of medical school when they’d been killed, struck down in the prime of their lives by a drunk driver. She’d done her grieving eight years ago when they’d died, and then had thrown herself back into her studies. It was what they would have wanted. She missed them terribly, but knowing she was on her own had made her work that much harder.
