Crossfire. Jodie Bailey
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here.” Thank God for Dutch. She’d all but forgotten it was Friday, one of his regular days to drop by.
Dutch slipped his cap back and scratched his hairline. “Whatcha mean by now that I’m here?”
Andrea jiggled the keys in her pocket and gripped her bag tighter as they neared the front of the building, only half hearing Dutch’s question. At the door, she ran her hand over her name etched there, the tangible mark of a dream years in the making. There was no way she’d let a hulking monster with a camera scare her away from her calling.
Still, as she stared through the glass at the lobby floor where she’d clawed desperately for freedom last night, her stomach tightened. It had seemed like a million miles across that floor at the time, but it was more like two feet in reality. It was amazing how fear could wreak havoc on perception.
“Doc?” Dutch’s deep Southern drawl drew her out of the vision of angry eyes and a menacing figure.
The keys jingled like bells as she pulled them from her pocket. “It’s nothing.” It took all of her strength to keep her hand from trembling as she unlocked the door. Once they were inside, half the battle was over. She’d done it. Crossed the threshold and not lost her senses doing it. Still, nothing could stop her from staring back through the window at the trees.
“Well, now.” Dutch glanced around the exposed lobby, pulling on his earlobe. “Looks like you don’t—” He stopped, eyes focused on the floor, head tipped to one side.
“What’s the matter?” Andrea followed his gaze and instantly landed on what had caught his attention.
“What is that?” Dutch knelt and studied the rust-colored smudges near the door. “Is that blood?” His head came up, jaw set. “Did somebody hurt you?” He stood and squared off as though prepared to protect her from giant robots.
“I’m fine.” She forced nonchalance into her voice. “If you want to know the truth, I drew that blood.”
Dutch took a step back. “What did you do? I’m not ’bout to be in here mopping up evidence, am I?”
Laughter bubbled up at the suspicion in his stance. “I didn’t kill one of my patients, if that’s what you’re thinking. And the police have come and gone, so you can do whatever you’d like.”
“Well, if it’s not your blood, then whose is it?” He didn’t quite believe her.
“I wish I knew. A man came in here and tried to take one of my files.” And me, if he could. She dared not say that aloud. She might find herself with a homeless man as a permanent bodyguard. “I kicked him in the face and he left.”
“One of your patient files? Which one?”
“You know I can’t tell you who my clients are.”
For a moment, it seemed he was going to ask again, then he changed course. “You kicked a man in the teeth? Was he a big guy?”
“Huge.”
“Always knew you had scrap in you, Doc.” Dutch chuckled and headed for the supply room, shaking his head. “You can take care of yourself, can’t you?”
Yes, she could. But that was something she didn’t want to have to prove again soon.
The door opened, scraping adrenaline against her raw nerves. That had to stop, or she’d fall to pieces.
A short, balding man stepped in, his purple uniform polo tucked into too-tight khaki pants. “Miss Andrea.” He extended a disposable cup of coffee to her.
She took the cup and smiled, the warmth of fresh-brewed coffee seeping into her fingers, up her arm and into her soul. Every morning, Mr. Miller stepped in right behind her with a cup of coffee and a dose of cheer. Just when she thought she was alone in this, God reminded her she had people looking out for her. “Mr. Miller. Always faithful with the coffee.”
“Always.” His grin nearly split his round face in two before it faded and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward his gas station next door. “My evening shift guy says he saw the police over here last night. You okay?”
“She kicked a man in the teeth,” Dutch called from the supply room.
Mr. Miller took a step back and nearly fell out the door as it opened again.
Josh slipped in behind the smaller man, nodding at her as he did.
This time, when her fingers tingled, it had nothing to do with fear. That needed to stop, too.
Glancing at Josh, Mr. Miller recovered his footing and stepped sideways from the man who was his physical opposite. Then he looked back at Andrea. “You kicked a man in the teeth?”
Josh chuckled, but that only made Mr. Miller glance back and forth between the two of them.
Dutch reappeared and started when he saw Josh. “Who are you?” The way he gripped the broom handle, it looked like he might just charge.
Andrea held up her hands, hoping to head off any misplaced protection. “Okay, everybody. I’m not used to three handsome men in my lobby at once.” Especially one in particular.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Josh winked at her.
Please, Lord, now is not the time to blush. She cleared her throat, made introductions then took charge of her small band of defenders. “Mr. Miller, I’m okay. Someone tried to rob me, but it’s fine now. The police are looking into it. Hopefully, it was an isolated incident.” Hopefully. But she doubted it. So did Josh, based on the set of his jaw.
Mr. Miller studied her as Dutch went back to sweeping in the corner. “Maybe I should aim a few of my security cameras your way. Make sure there’s always eyes on the place.” He nodded. “I’ll have all of my shifts keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I do.” He laid a hand on her arm, which made Josh straighten slightly. Like he should be jealous of someone old enough to be her father. “I want to. Having you next door is so much nicer than having that check-cashing place here gouging soldiers.” He patted her arm, aimed a slight smile at Josh, then stepped for the door. “I should go. It’s payroll day.” He nodded at Dutch. “You coming to my place next?”
Dutch tossed a slight wave from where he leaned on his broom handle. “An hour or so?”
With an answering wave, Mr. Miller tripped on the threshold as he stepped out. “See you on Monday, Ms. Andrea.”
Josh arched an eyebrow.
Yes, Mr. Miller was awkward, but nobody treated her better. Except maybe Dutch. Her forehead wrinkled. She certainly had eclectic neighbors. “What brings you by so early?” she asked Josh. “Don’t you have to work?”
“Command gave us a four-day weekend now because we were doing an extended training exercise over the Fourth of July holiday.”
“Convenient.” Andrea let herself meet his eyes and wished she hadn’t. Something about him blurred the straight edges of her life until she wasn’t quite sure if she was fifteen or thirty-two.
“Still don’t know who you are.” Dutch’s broom ceased its swishing as he drew closer.
Josh extended his hand. “Josh Walker.”
“Dutch.”
The men sized each other up as they shook, seemed to come to some agreement and parted.
Dutch drifted back to the closet and reappeared seconds later, sans broom. “Think I’ll go see what Mr. Miller needs. You two look like you need to talk.” Without further explanation, he slipped out the door.
“What was that?” Andrea asked as she led Josh into her office and watched as he took in the room.
“What?”
“That.