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“No—"
“But I thought—”
“Babe, don’t ask questions, okay?”
I pressed my lips tightly with irritation.
“What’s his address?”
With a huff I reached for my daily log and opened it. It didn’t take me long to locate Mr. Johnson’s address. He lived in Boulder City, too. I rattled it off to Liam, unable to keep my tone from revealing that I wasn’t happy. I was sure he heard the slap of the book when I closed it.
“Baby—” Liam cut himself off, and I heard him take several breaths. “You’re not the only old lady being guarded right now.”
Old lady? I was his old lady now?
“Do what Klutz says if there’s any trouble. I don’t want to lose you now that I finally have you.”
“Well, that sounds ominous.” I saw Mrs. Robbins’ door open and then close again just as abruptly.
“If I had my way, you’d be locked up in our room and I’d be fucking you all day to make up for lost time.”
His words caused arousal to heat my blood, and I squeezed my legs tight to stop the tingle that was beginning there. “You wouldn’t have to lock the door to keep me in your bed.”
His low growl revealed the effect my words had on him.
“I really have to go now.”
“Just be fucking careful and listen to my brothers.”
I rolled my eyes. “I promise.”
As soon as we hung up, I exited my car and opened the back door for my bag. “Liam is sending someone to join you,” I felt the need to say after grabbing my bag and closing the door. I walked toward the back of my car where Klutz was sitting on his bike.
“I know,” he said around the cigarette in his mouth. “See anything unusual?”
It was a question I’d been asked every time we went to one of my patients’ homes. I’d asked what I was supposed to be looking for and was always given a cryptic reply.
I knew that he wasn’t just questioning whether or not I’d seen anything unusual at Mrs. Robbins’, house but the surrounding area, too. I glanced around. Nothing stood out. I hadn’t seen the car in her driveway before, but there’d been a few times when she’d had visitors when I’d arrived, so I thought nothing of it. Aware that Klutz was watching me closely, I shook my head and continued to the front door.
I rang the bell and waited. Mrs. Robbins was able to hobble along with a walker, but she also used a scooter. She’d had her home modified to accommodate it. Many times I’d arrived to find her riding along on the sidewalk, joking that she was getting her morning exercise.
“Who is it?” someone called out from behind the door.
I frowned, not recognizing the voice. “It’s Harlow Cogan. I’m Mrs. Robbins’ home healthcare nurse.”
I heard the turn of the lock and then the door was opened. The woman standing on the other side of the screen caught me by surprise. She looked thin and sick, unkempt. I’d never seen her before, and I hesitated from stepping inside.
Her smile seemed nervous. “Hi, I’m Tamara. Vera is my aunt. Excuse my condition, but I just got over a terrible case of the flu. I’m not contagious!” she quickly rushed out with a nervous laugh. “I just look like hell.”
Her explanation, and the fact that she knew Mrs. Robbin’s name, put me at ease, but I had to wonder why someone who’d just got over the flu would come around an elderly person who had her own health issues, even if she was right about not being contagious. I opened the screen door and stepped inside with a smile on my face.
“I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise,” I explained while she closed the door behind me. I scanned the room for my patient. “Where is Mrs. Robbins?” She always knew when I was coming, and was usually ready for me, which made me begin to worry. “Is she okay?”
The weak smile remained on Tamara’s thin face. She was beautiful, but again I took note of how painfully thin she was, and wondered if she was suffering from something more than the flu.
“I’m afraid she’s had a fall and is in the bedroom.”
That was all I needed to hear before I rushed to the back of the house where I knew her bedroom was. Along the way I spied her scooter lying on its side, and... was that blood? I frowned and narrowed my eyes on the spot but didn’t take the time to examine it fully. “Why wasn’t 911 called?”
