Back in the Bachelor's Arms. Victoria Pade
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in a small town. The police department keeps some of the chemicals needed to do the initial tests. The first thing that has to be determined is if it is human blood—if it proves to be animal blood they don’t bother the forensic lab in Billings and waste their time. I did the tests here and they appeared positive for human blood.”
“But that call sounded as if someone else was telling you that.”
“They were confirming it and expanding on it,” he qualified. “The call was from the forensic lab—I’ve been playing phone tag with the pathologist there since this morning and that was him returning my last message to his voice mail. I was right, the blood was human, but the forensic lab did more extensive tests and was able to come up with the blood type. Which has just told us that the blood isn’t Celeste Perry’s.”
“So it was from one of the men,” Chloe concluded.
“We have Celeste’s pre-1960 medical records to let us know if it matched hers. We don’t have anything on either of the men, but by process of elimination, since it’s definitely not Celeste’s blood, it’s certainly a possibility that it’s one of theirs. Luke and the rest of the cops here are going over the old investigation. Now that my tests have been confirmed, and the pathologist has found hair and tissue, too, there might need to be a search for a body.”
“Wow, big goings-on in Northbridge.”
“Yeah, everybody’s been talking about it,” Reid said.
“Don’t you need to let your brother or someone else on the police force know what you just found out?”
“Forensics is calling Luke with the formal report. The call to me was more courtesy because I went to med school with the pathologist,” Reid said just as the doorbell rang.
He pushed off the door, turned and opened it, greeting a teenager by name. Chloe didn’t recognize either the teenager or the name—a testament to how long she’d been away from Northbridge.
When Reid had paid for the pizza, he closed the door and finally joined her on the floor with the large box safely between them.
Paper plates, napkins and prewrapped packets of plastic cutlery had also been delivered and Reid divided them evenly before opening the box to reveal a pizza identical to what they’d shared numerous times in the past.
“It doesn’t look as if it’s changed,” Chloe commented, breathing deeply of the aroma of Paul’s special blend of spices and seasonings.
“You know Northbridge—not too much does.”
Reid served her a slice and then took one for himself, biting into its tip while Chloe used fork and knife. She pronounced it as good as ever after her first taste.
But with the renewed town scandal update exhausted and the subject of their dinner explored as far as it could be, an awkward silence fell. And since Reid had carried the conversation to that point, Chloe felt obligated to make her own contribution.
She just couldn’t think of what to say and settled on small talk that she knew he probably wasn’t interested in. But anything was better than the silence, so she glanced at the progress he’d made painting the room and said, “It looks like you got more done than I did today. I spent all afternoon arguing with the company I rented the car from.”
“They weren’t happy about the accident,” Reid guessed.
“That wasn’t the worst of it. I took out the insurance but they lost the paperwork and were trying to claim that I wasn’t covered. I had to go through channels to get them to acknowledge that I was, but even then they wanted me to pay to have the car towed back to Billings. I had to fight to get them to agree to do it themselves and then—for the third round—I had to force them to honor the clause in the contract that says they’ll send out a replacement.”
“Are they going to?”
“Reluctantly, since I’m ‘in the middle of nowhere’ as they said. But they won’t get one out here until the end of the week—Friday or Saturday. They insist that they can’t do it before then and nothing I said—or threatened—made any difference. They were big jerks.”
Something about her rant made Reid smile slightly and for no reason Chloe understood, the entire two hours of turmoil suddenly seemed worth it just to see that.
“I’ll be around all week so if you need to go anywhere that you don’t feel like walking to, I can take you.”
That offer was the second surprise of the evening and even though Chloe knew it probably wouldn’t be smart to take him up on it unless she had to, it pleased her to have it on the table.
“Thanks,” she said simply.
She turned down a second piece of pizza but Reid helped himself to another slice and said, “So. What do you do for a living?”
More safe, surface chat. But Chloe was grateful for it.
“You know the toy prizes in kids’ meals at fast-food restaurants? I design them.”
Another smile that sent a little warmth all through her.
“You’re kidding,” he said.
“Nope, I’m not kidding. Movie tie-ins. Spinning things. Wheelie things. Dolls. Action figures. Magic tricks. You name it, I’ve done it.”
“How did you get into that?”
“I kept up with the painting and drawing I’d always liked to do when I went to college. I thought I wanted to be a graphic artist. Designing a toy was an assignment in one of my classes and not only did I discover that I had a knack for it and enjoyed it, but the toy I designed—a robotic ladybug—ended up winning a couple of awards and being bought by a miniature toy company. Well, the company isn’t miniature, only the toys are. Anyway, they offered me a job on the spot. I turned it down because I wanted to finish school, but they were still interested when I did. I’ve been with them ever since.”
“Amazing.”
He did seem amazed. And impressed. Although Chloe didn’t know how impressive what she did was compared to what he did.
“How about you?” she countered. “You never said anything about wanting to be a doctor.”
“That came out in college. About the same time I was finding that I had an aptitude for the science classes I was also working for most of my tuition as a janitor at the hospital. Old Doc Seymour noticed that I was interested and encouraged me—actually he took me under his wing and taught me a lot before I even got into med school. He also put in a good word for me when it came time to apply and that didn’t do any harm in getting me in.”
“Where did you go?”
“Wayne State, in Detroit. I did my residency there, too. In the heart of the city. After that, coming back to Northbridge was a day in the park.”
“It can’t be too much of a day in the park if you’re the only doctor here,” she said, recalling his comment from that morning about needing a replacement to cover his vacation.
“It’s time consuming,” he admitted. “And tough getting enough sleep now and then. But I have it better than old Doc Seymour who did it before me because now there’s more supplementary staff—besides three nurses to Doc Seymour’s one, I have a nurse-practitioner and a physician’s assistant, too, which helps.”
“And what happened to old Doc Seymour?” Chloe asked but with some hesitancy, because talking about Northbridge’s former doctor took them closer to their past than she wanted to venture.
“He did what he always said he was going to do—he retired to his cabin out by the river and fishes a lot.”
“He doesn’t practice medicine anymore at all?”
“He comes into the hospital every Wednesday, walks around, pokes his nose in here and there, wants to know about any new gadget