Eye of the Storm. Hannah Alexander

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Eye of the Storm - Hannah  Alexander


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expression froze into the image of a porcelain figurine, all but the eyes, which darkened with shock. “She told you that?”

      “Aha! And she didn’t tell you.”

      As if by habit, Megan smacked him gently on the arm. “Don’t gloat. Poison? She said that word?”

      “Those words exactly, and before you say anything about this to Lynley, don’t. She doesn’t know. Kirstie told only me.”

      “Why didn’t she say something to me about it?”

      “You refused to take her case.”

      “Of course I did. She needs a neurologist.”

      Gerard shook his head. “You still think that?”

      Megan raised an elegantly arched brow. “What would you say if I told you she warned me recently that I could be in danger?”

      He studied that carefully held expression. It was the one he’d seen often when Megan and Tess were playing a joke on him. Megan’s emotions were all over the place this morning. “Kirstie said that?”

      “I think she was talking about you. So that means you told her you were coming.”

      “I said I would be coming soon, but I didn’t make the decision to drive here last night until she told me about the poison theory. I didn’t want you to face that, along with everything else, all alone.” And Kirstie had given no hint that she was suspicious of him. Quite the contrary. “She said you were in danger from me?”

      A wry smile crossed Megan’s lips as she slid her gaze away from him. “A certain kind of danger.”

      He continued to watch her, relaxing enough to enjoy yet another break from the tension. “Ah. I see.” He couldn’t help returning the smile, and he did it in double quantity, though Megan still avoided his gaze. “She’s a perceptive lady. You’ve spoken to her of us then.” He knew she had. Kirstie had alluded to hearing his name mentioned quite a few times over the past year or so.

      “Of you. Singular.”

      He could tell by the light in Megan’s eyes that she was also enjoying the break in tension, temporary though it may be. “Well, that’s still good. She said you told her how strong I was, that I was an ex-cop.”

      “Did you tell her you forced me to take classes to get a license to carry—”

      “I did not force you to do that.”

      Megan blinked up at him. “I hope you didn’t lie to her. She can see through lies these days, and she does not take kindly to them.”

      “I didn’t force you to get the license. I strongly suggested it because of the section of town where we’re located.”

      “You threatened me with my life.”

      “I did not. I only suggested you might save a life in more ways than—”

      He realized too late that he should have let it drop when Megan turned away, shoulders once again drooping, eyes closing in pain.

      “Kirstie did share your description of me,” he said, gently resting a hand on her back. “Even I was impressed. I’m a tough, giant blond guy with strikingly beautiful blue eyes, and no woman should be able to resist me.”

      Megan turned back. “I did not say that.”

      Gerard chuckled. “No, wait. You said I was still a tough cop at heart.”

      “Something like that.”

      “Kirstie did agree with you that I tend to growl on occasion.”

      “Well, here we are on your favorite subject again,” Megan drawled in the Texas twang she’d developed during her time in the town of Southern heat. “You.”

      “Ouch.”

      He watched the pain ease from around Megan’s eyes again as the discussion lightened. Something inside her was sealed up like a brand-new Deepfreeze. Maybe she truly couldn’t have this conversation with him yet. This argument. This call to return to the scene of the crime and work through the tangle of confusion and pain that left them both with open wounds.

      She was needed here now, for Kirstie and Lynley. She finally realized she could help Kirstie. Though she didn’t realize it yet, Gerard too, needed to be here. In time, they’d get through the tangle and set things right again.

      THREE

      Megan studied Gerard’s profile as he gazed out into the forest. She was caught once again in the gale-force wind that was Gerard Vance, and she felt a desperate need to tell him everything that had happened since they’d last talked. Really talked. As in, sharing their thoughts, debating their gut feelings, even touching souls on occasion.

      She’d missed that so much since the world flew apart. Now there was this huge black hole in the universe keeping her from Gerard and Tess and all her friends at the mission, because she couldn’t get past what happened and reconnect with them. She didn’t even have time, right now, to find her way back to sanity here in Jolly Mill because of Kirstie.

      “Poison,” she said, drawing Gerard’s gaze back to her. “Drugging of some kind. Do you really think it’s possible? Here in Jolly Mill?” Megan felt the strength of Gerard’s presence encompass the wooden front porch, the yard, possibly even threaten to charm the fluttering and chirping birds from the trees.

      “There’s evil everywhere,” he said. “Even here in paradise.”

      “When did you first talk to Kirstie?”

      “A week and a half ago. I thought I’d give you a little more time, warn you I’d be coming here so you wouldn’t be caught off guard. I left messages for you with Kirstie, and she, of course, recognized my name.”

      The teasing lilt in his voice brought a surprising sting of tears to Megan’s eyes. She swallowed. So much had been lost. Not only had that heinous killer destroyed the life of a very pregnant young woman, but he’d destroyed a powerful relationship between two people falling in love…hadn’t he?

      “So of course,” Megan said, swallowing again, “charming as Kirstie is, she drew you out, got more information from you about yourself.”

      “About us, I think. That’s why she warned you of danger.” Still that hint of a tease in his voice. “Once I told her about how much we valued you at the clinic, she opened up and started to talk about your friendship with Lynley and how much you meant to her.”

      Megan narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t start me on any guilt trips.”

      “How’s that?”

      “She wants me to take her case. She doesn’t believe she has Alzheimer’s.”

      “Neither do you,” Gerard said.

      Megan held his gaze. How did he read her mind so well? “I referred her to two of the best specialists in the region, and she didn’t want to go to them. She wants me or no one, but she never said a word to me about her suspicions of poison.”

      “She knows you’ve been through some kind of trauma, and she’s willing to sacrifice her own health in order to walk on eggshells around you, keep you from being stressed.”

      Megan was amazed by how easily she was suddenly coming to tears this morning. “I’m not a specialist.”

      “But you are.” Gerard’s footsteps echoed across the porch as he drew closer to Megan. “You specialize in people. As you’ve told me more than once when treating patients at the mission, Alzheimer’s can be a trash-can diagnosis, and people with mental problems aren’t trash.”

      Megan winced. He was using her words against her. “Speaking of Kirstie, I got a call about her before you so rudely arrived at my door before daybreak.” She glanced at her watch, then reached into her bag to check


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