CHAPTER 10

Julie woke up to the sound of her alarm the next morning, groggy, confused, and ravenous. She’d almost forgotten who’d tucked her away in bed last night still wearing her clothes. Almost.

Quickly, efficiently, she switched off the alarm clock. She had a full day of work ahead of her, and she didn’t intend to walk through it in a fog. For starters, she’d eat something, then go for a morning run. That would launch her back into her routine.

After splashing her face with water and brushing her teeth, she pulled on her running clothes and shoes, wolfed down a protein bar, and let herself out the front door of her house. It was dark outside this early, but that didn’t bother her. She knew the roads like the back of her hand, and she knew exactly which route she’d take today—the one she always took when she needed to clear her mind.

Twenty minutes later she was running down Beach Street, the soft, sandy dirt on the road cushioning her stride. A slight breeze wafted the salty sea air toward her and she breathed it in deeply. Her sense of smell was always heightened when she couldn’t see clearly, and in the pre-dawn light, the salt water was almost pungent. Although there was a high sand dune between the ocean and the road, she could hear the roar of the surf, muffled only slightly by the sand buffer. After she’d been running for about fifteen more minutes, the sun rose, and the hard, thin rays peeked through the low clouds. Wiping her mind clean, she concentrated only on her breathing.

She’d just hit the intersection of Beach and Harper’s Pond Road when she heard someone coming up behind her. It wasn’t unusual to see other runners out this time of morning, so as the person approached she pulled farther to the side of the road to allow him to pass. But he didn’t pass. He simply caught up to her and began to match her, stride for stride. When she saw who it was, her heart skipped a beat. She wouldn’t break form, though. Not for him. Not for anyone.

“Morning,” Cole said, not even winded from his obvious sprint.

He looked amazing—strong and lean, wearing wind-resistant black training pants and a long-sleeved, black weatherproof T-shirt. His body was spare in its movements, but with every motion, she could imagine the muscles rippling under his clothes. From his perfect posture to his perfect running form, he looked like he could be jogging on a military base.

“Are you following me?”

“So suspicious,” he said. “You told me your secret running route at dinner the other night, remember? And it just so happens I go running at the same time.”

“Your leg,” she said, remembering his scar.

“Hundreds of hours of physical therapy so I’d be able to do this,” he said. “Can’t work if I can’t run. After yesterday’s incident, I realized I’d been hitting the weight room more than I’d been focusing on cardio, so I need to balance it out. Still hurts, though, so I did lots of stretching before and I’ll do plenty afterwards.”

“Cole,” she started, “about yesterday …”

“Look, I want to apologize. I know I came on strong. And while I do think you could use a good self-defense class, I understand if you don’t want to take me up on my offer to train you myself. The Barnstable Y has some good classes. We can check into it.”

She was silent for a few moments as she absorbed what he’d said. Then she slowed to a stop, right where the dune tapered off. In a few steps, he’d stopped too. She’d been about to apologize to him. He was genuinely trying to help her—albeit in a completely proprietary, alpha-male kind of way.

“I want to help.”

For a moment, he looked puzzled. “With what?”

“With the drug investigation.”

“No,” he said, without hesitation.

“Please. I’ve had a chance to think, and I’m sure Don’s involved in some way. I owe it to Margo.” And I owe it to myself.

“This is something you really need to leave to the professionals.”

“I’m a professional.”

He gave her a once-over. “Not like that. No offense, Doc, but you nearly got your ass handed to you last night.”

She tried not to wince. “So train me like you want. Teach me how to defend myself.”

Cole shook his head. “Even with training you’d be no match for a guy like Rathbone. Not unless you had a weapon.”

“I’ll get a weapon,” she said firmly.

“You mean to tell me you want to learn how to shoot a gun?” He looked more than doubtful.

“If it means I can help you with this? Yes.”

“Oh, Lord,” he said, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Have you ever even held a gun?”

“No. But I’m sure it’d be fine. I did a surgery rotation.” She held her hands out, palms down. “See? Steady hands.”

He laughed. “That’s not really what it takes, Doc. You have a weapon, you have to be willing to shoot to kill. You up for that?”

Julie set her jaw. It would go against the Hippocratic Oath to take a life—not to mention her own personal code of ethics—but she needed to be a part of this. This was her town, and it was happening right under her nose. “If that’s what it takes.”

He regarded her for a long time. “I’ll tell you what, Doc,” he finally said. “No guns, all right? But I’ll consider bringing you in as a civilian consultant for any drug-related medical issues my department comes across. That’s the best I can do right now. I can’t have you running around Star Harbor investigating this crap. It’s not safe for you, and not only that, it could put others at risk.”

Julie nodded. It would have to do. For now. “Good. You let me know how you can use me.”

A slow smile formed on his face. “Careful now,” he drawled. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Deliberately, she met his gaze. “Don’t I?”

His clear blue eyes cut through hers like laser beams. The waves crashed loudly, the sound no longer buffered by the dune. It roared in her ears. Or was that the blood rushing through her veins?

“Aw, Jesus, Doc,” he said, right before his mouth was on hers, hot and dark. His arms found their way around her and it was just like the other time, except better. There was something more now. Something she could feel deep inside, needy, desperate to break free. Wrapping both arms around his neck, she kissed him back—opened her mouth to him, wanting to taste him the same way he was tasting her.

And when he lowered his body over hers, bending her slightly backward, his strong hands holding her to him, she embraced it. Then she was on her back, pressed into the low sand dune, Cole’s forearm under her neck. They were hidden from the road, but she wouldn’t have cared if they weren’t. Because when he lay down next to her, half on the ground, half on top of her, all she could think about was his huge, hard weight and how amazing it felt to be under him.

Cole’s mouth was on her neck and his hand was up her shirt, cupping the mound of her breast over her jog bra. A flicker of embarrassment emerged—his palm! her breast!—but then she didn’t care because it was right and good and my God, he smelled delicious.

Her nipple hardened in his palm and a wave of desire so strong washed over her, she felt like she was drowning. Unable to stop herself, she gasped, and Cole caught the cry in his mouth, moaning an unintelligible response before his tongue swept over hers.

His hand fully covered the swell of her breast. One big thumb rubbed circles over her nipple and she pressed herself up and into him, tacitly urging him to continue. She wanted his flesh touching hers—wanted it more than she could even articulate. She was aching with need everywhere. Her mouth, her breasts, her sex. She wanted to give him everything, here on this beach, mere feet from the road where anyone could come across them.

He tried wedging his fingers under the edge of the bra, but the spandex was too tight. Without breaking their kiss, he tried pulling down the strap from her shoulder, but though the fabric stretched, the darn thing wouldn’t budge, having been designed for a runner—to stay in place no matter what the circumstance. There was only one way that thing was coming off, and that was over her head.

Abandoning his efforts, he wrapped his hand around her back and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Then he buried his face in between her neck and shoulder, and made a noise that sounded like a combination of a laugh and a groan.

Finally, he raised his head and stared at her. His eyes were dark with passion, a deeper, stormier blue. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked. There was that muscle ticking in his jaw again.

She merely raised an eyebrow at him.

He flicked his gaze from her face down her body and back up. Then he groaned again. “Go out with me again, for real.”

“Yes.” There was no way she could say no. “When?”

“Tonight,” he said quickly. “No, I have something scheduled. And damn it all if I don’t have something scheduled this weekend, too. Training for my deputies. Crap!” He paused. “Next weekend. Opening day.”

“Opening day?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been to opening day at Fenway.”

She shook her head. “No.” She’d never had time. She’d never even been to a game.

“Oh, Doc, you are in for a treat.” Then he kissed her again, so deeply that if she weren’t lying down, she would have keeled over. When he finally raised his head, stars swam before her eyes. He helped her up and together, they brushed the sand off their bodies.

“I think we’re a little off pace,” he said, a wry tone in his voice. “But I have to get ready for work. Want to head back?”

She checked her watch, amazed that he could just turn his desire on and off like a switch. She was still aching with need, but she had to be at the office in about forty minutes. If they left now, she’d just make it. “Yes. Let’s go,” she said, taking off down the street.

He caught up with her easily and they began to make their way back. After they’d been jogging for a few minutes, he looked over at her. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Thanks,” she murmured, not knowing what to make of Cole Grayson—or of that deep, powerful thing starting to coil itself around her heart. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

An hour later, Julie was in her office, trying to get a certain sexy lawman out of her mind. It was made more difficult by the fact that he’d kissed her yet again outside her house before heading back to Val’s houseboat. That hotter-than-hot kiss was seared on her brain. Tamping down her libido, she focused on the patient file in front of her. After a quick study, she folded up the file and made her way back to the examining room, knocking on the door and waiting for Dorothy Harring to assent before she entered.

“All right, Mrs. Harring, how are you doing?”

The older woman groaned. “Not well. Thought the exercising was making my back better, but a few days ago, something snapped. Now I can barely get out of bed.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Julie said, flipping back through her patient’s file. “Looks like the last MRI you had for your herniated disc was two months ago. If the pain persists, it might be worth having that redone.”

“The doctor at Cape Cod Hospital told me I might have to have surgery.”

“Maybe. Most of the time, herniated discs heal on their own in about six months. It hasn’t been that long. I’m going to send you to CCH to have the MRI done, but let’s touch base if they suggest surgery right away. It requires a lengthy hospital stay and has its own risks. In the meantime, take it easy. Hold off on the exercises for a couple of weeks, until you feel better, but definitely get up and out—just do it gently. And let me prescribe you something to help with the pain.”

“Sounds good,” Dorothy said. “I can barely move.”

“Oh, back pain is awful, isn’t it?” Julie said, searching around her drawer. Where were those prescription pads? “Hold on a moment, Mrs. Harring. I need to grab something. I’ll be right back.” She stepped out of the exam room and into the hall. “Lisa?” she called out.

Lisa peeked her head around the corner, red hair bouncing as she moved. “Yes?”

“I’m out of the tamper-proof prescription pads. The ones for controlled substances. Where did we put the spares?”

“Ah, in the supply closet? Let me go check.” She disappeared and in a moment came back empty-handed. “They’re not there. Maybe in your office?”

“No,” Julie said, frowning. “I had a whole box of them in my office from our last reorder, but the box is gone. I just figured you put them away.”

“I didn’t touch them. And I can guarantee Cloris didn’t either. She’d never take something from your office without asking you first.”

“Then we’re missing fifty prescription pads. And this is on top of the other ones I couldn’t find a month ago.” Julie took a deep breath. “Let me grab one from one of the other exam rooms. We’ll talk about this later.”

Once she’d given Mrs. Harring her prescription, she headed back to Lisa. “Okay, Lisa, I talked with Cloris and she hasn’t seen them either. We’re going to have to really search for those pads. I thought we’d just misplaced the other batch, but now that this batch has gone missing too? Well, let’s just say I’m starting to get suspicious.”

Lisa nodded. “I’m pretty sure we have a block of free time this afternoon. Cloris and I can do a sweep of the office for you. I know they’re a big liability if they’re lost.”

“That would be helpful. I hate the thought of those things floating around somewhere. But there’s nothing we can do right now. We have a full morning ahead of us.”

“Gotcha. But later, Cloris and I will be on it.”

That afternoon, Lisa, Cloris, and Julie tore apart the office looking for the prescription pads, but they didn’t turn up.

“Damn,” Julie swore softly. She was going to have to face facts. The pads were missing and since she completely trusted Lisa and Cloris, it was looking likely that they had been stolen. Something like this had never happened before. Now, not only would she have to order new pads again, but she’d have to figure out if she needed to report the loss.

She was researching the issue when she heard a knock at her office door. Cloris stood there, a worried look on her face.

“I think you’d better come out here, Julie.”

Briskly, Julie walked down the back corridor and through the waiting room door. To her surprise, Margo Rathbone was standing there with her little son, Quentin. She gave the boy a quick glance. She knew he was eleven, but he looked far too thin for his age. His hand covered his right ear and he had a pained expression on his face. A yellowish fluid tinged with blood dripped through his fingers and down his wrist.

Snapping into action, Julie reached out to the boy. “What happened?” she asked as she gently pried his hand away from his ear to examine the extent of the damage.

“Ran into a post,” he muttered.

“I’d say your eardrum ruptured. Let’s get you into the back.” She guided him through the door and down the hallway to an examining room. Margo followed uncertainly, a few paces behind.

“Lisa,” Julie said as they walked past the nurse’s station. “Perforated eardrum. I need some help.” Lisa snatched up some gauze, swabs, and antiseptic, and followed the trio into the exam room. Julie watched as she cleaned quickly and expertly, taking great care while swabbing Quentin’s outer ear. When it was clear, Julie took an instrument and peered inside his ear canal. Margo shrank into a corner of the room, wringing her hands.

“It’s definitely a rupture,” Julie said a few moments later, putting the instrument aside. “Although it could heal on its own in a few weeks, I’m going to prescribe some antibiotics to make sure no infection occurs, and I’d like to monitor you weekly. In the meantime, some painkillers should help.” She handed two pills to Quentin while Lisa filled a paper cup with water.

After Quentin had swallowed the pills, Julie approached the boy and wrapped her arm around him. “Want to tell me again how this happened?” Quentin was silent.

Julie turned to Margo, who looked at her son and then at the ground.

“I know you didn’t ram your ear into a post, Quentin. I have to ask about this. Please tell me the truth.”

Again, she got no response. It was obvious the boy was very scared. “Please, let me help you.” She looked at Margo, who had begun to weep softly. “Margo, you don’t deserve this. Neither does Quentin.” Letting go of the boy, she crossed the room to take Margo gently by the arms. “I can help you,” she repeated. “Trust me.”

Margo began to cry in earnest, leaning against Julie for support. “You know it already,” she said softly. “He hits me. A lot. Things have only gotten worse as the fishing’s gone downhill. Recently, he’s started in on Quentin. Quentin tries to protect me, but Don’s too big. Too strong. I don’t know what to do. We bailed him out this morning, but he just went into a rage, started taking drugs again.” Margo wiped her eyes. “I’m scared to leave him, and I’m scared to stay. I can bear him hitting me. I can bear the yelling, and I can even bear the drugs. What I can’t bear is that he hits my son.”

Julie embraced the trembling woman more tightly. “You can leave, Margo. You can do this. For Quentin’s sake, you can. I can help you, but you need to be strong. Can you be strong for him?”

“I … I think so,” Margo whispered.

Gingerly, Quentin got down from the examining table and came over to embrace his mother. “I can be strong for you too, Mom.”

Julie said, “I just need to make a phone call. Lisa, would you mind waiting here for a moment?” Lisa, who’d been standing watching the drama unfold, simply nodded.

Julie went to her office and shut the door. A minute later, she returned to the patient room. “Cole’s on his way,” she told Margo.

“Oh, God, not the sheriff!” Margo said, her voice rising in panic. “Everyone’s going to know. Don’s going to find out!”

“No one’s going to know but us and Cole,” Julie soothed. “He’ll know what to do. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Quentin said. “We need to get out of here.”

Margo nodded numbly.

Soon, they heard the bell on the front door jingle. Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall. As Cole came through the door, Margo flinched. Cole shot Julie a look, and she nodded. He’d proceed exactly as they’d discussed. Recognizing the signs of abuse, Cole checked his step and stayed a few feet back. He lowered his arms so they hung by his sides in a nonthreatening manner. “Margo? It’s Cole Grayson, remember? I’m here to help you.”

She looked at him uncertainly.

“We’re going to get you to a safe place, okay?”

There was a long pause. “Okay,” she said softly.

He turned to Quentin. “Son, are you okay?”

“I’ll be better when we get out of here.”

Cole smiled at his spirit. “Then that’s just what we’re going to do. Do you have any family or friends outside of Star Harbor?”

“My sister lives in Falmouth, and I’ve got an aunt in Providence,” Margo said quietly.

“Falmouth’s pretty close,” Cole said. “Providence is probably a better bet for now. Does your husband know where your aunt lives?”

“No. Don never let me travel. I haven’t seen my aunt in years.”

“Good. It will give us more time because he won’t think you’ll have made it as far as Providence. Let’s give your aunt a call before we head there. We want to make sure she’s at the same address.”

Margo nodded.

Dusk had fallen by the time Cole had bundled Margo and Quentin into his waiting car. Telling Julie he’d be by later, he sped off quickly. The Rathbones had no time to stop at their cottage before heading to Providence. Neither Margo nor Cole had wanted to risk a confrontation with Don. Julie was sure Cole could handle it, but she wasn’t so certain about Margo and Quentin.

The man was dangerous—and disgusting. Who could hit his own wife and child? It made her sick just to think about it.

She was glad Margo had finally gotten enough resolve to get to safety, and she was even happier that Don would be back in jail, where he belonged.

At just after eleven that evening, Cole was standing outside Julie’s house. He wasn’t sure what he was doing there—Lord knew he had a ton of crap to deal with, including rescheduling the planning meeting he’d missed to take care of Margo and Quentin and following up on the warrant he’d issued for Don’s arrest—but he knew he had to see her. The porch light flicked on and he saw her face peering through the window. In a moment, she unlocked the door to let him in.

Even wearing a soft T-shirt, worn jeans, flip-flops, and not a stitch of makeup, she looked beautiful. Her long hair was swept up in a loose ponytail and her intelligent eyes regarded him in the dim light.

“Are they—”

“Safe,” he said. “I thought you’d be sleeping.”

“How could I possibly get to sleep?” Julie shook her head. “They’re doing okay?”

“Quentin’s holding up well. He’s a solid kid. He’ll look after his mom, who seems to have gotten the worst of it. Angie Doppel—that’s Margo’s aunt—seems like a strong, sensible woman. Hopefully, she’ll be able to help Margo get back on her feet.”

“So Angie was happy to see them?”

“Yeah. She welcomed them with open arms. Angie told me she couldn’t bear it when Margo married ‘that snake of a man.’ That’s a direct quote, by the way.”

“Good. And I was glad to call my friend Dr. Tucker in Providence. He’ll continue to take care of Quentin’s ear,” Julie said. “Do you think Margo will press charges?”

“I don’t know, but even without a statement from Margo or Quentin, we’ll have enough to let the state pursue child endangerment charges. I didn’t push it tonight. I’ll take a trip out next week when she’s had some time away from Don. Regardless, I’m going to need your medical records on Quentin to help make the case. I’ll get a formal subpoena to make it all official.”

“Of course. Anything you need from me.” She reached to take his hand, and when he grasped hers, he squeezed it, almost to reassure himself that she was still there. “I found out from Margo that Don’s using drugs. You might look into whether he’s dealing, too.”

Cole gave her a short nod. “I’ll do that.”

Thankfully, she didn’t ask if she could help investigate that aspect of the case.

“Thank you,” she said, relief in her eyes. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Just doing my job,” he said tightly. “It’s the hardest kind of work, you know? I saw a lot of this in Boston. Never understood it. Still don’t. Why some men feel the need to brutalize their families.” Cole eyes were burning.

“We did what we could tonight,” Julie said, her voice calm as she gave his hand a squeeze. “You’re a good man, Cole Grayson. A really good man.”

“Thanks.” But he wasn’t. He was as fallible and as dirty as the rest of them. He’d never hit a woman or a child, but my God, he had half a lifetime of actions he was still trying to atone for.

Julie stepped back a fraction, watching him carefully. “Come inside. I’ll make you some coffee.”

“I don’t want any coffee,” he said. “I just want you.” Truth.

Julie led him inside and shut the door. Without another word, she pulled him through the foyer. Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs to her bedroom. He lay down next to her, fully clothed, with her head on his chest, his face buried in her sweet-smelling hair.

But before the sun rose, he was gone.