Gracefully, Like a Living Thing by Suzanne Jenkins

Author:Suzanne Jenkins [Jenkins, Suzanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-06-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

The week between Christmas and New Year’s was extremely profitable for the hospital, cashing in on those who had the week off but were stuck in the city, who took advantage of it for minor surgery, having tests, getting appointments out of the way.

For the police department, the holiday week was busy for other reasons; an increase in activity across the crime spectrum. On Thursday evening, Dan Ross sat with his feet up on his desk, chewing the end of a pen. His cell phone beeped and it went to voice mail, then his desk phone rang but he let the receptionist, Betty answer. The caller was his wife, angry that he was still at work after she’d taken the week off to hang out with him, now stuck at home with three kids, dinner growing cold.

“Dan, it’s Cindy,” Betty said, looking over his cubical wall.

“I’m waiting for an autopsy report here. Can you take a message?” She frowned, hating lying to wives, hating Dan Ross more.

“Right,” she said, walking away. Cindy Ross was an innocent; everyone in the office wondered why she put up with Dan.

Betty picked up the phone. “Cindy, he asked if I could take a message. He’s waiting for the ME to get back to him with an autopsy report.” Lies.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Betty. It’s nothing important. I’ll talk to him later.”

“Were you home from work today?” Betty asked, hoping to smooth things over.

“I’m home all week. The kids are antsy waiting for Dan so we can eat dinner.”

“Stick a movie in the DVD player,” Betty said. “Works every time.”

“Ha! I think you’re right,” Cindy said, laughing. “I’ll do it for my sanity. In the meantime, if my husband comes up for air, ask him to call me.”

“Of course,” Betty said. “Have fun!” She hung up, feeling melancholy for the days she missed with her own children, now grown, when she had to work all summer and during the long holidays. Oh well, they’d survived in spite of it. Getting up from her chair, she walked back to Dan’s cubicle and he was still chewing on that pen.

“Dan, call her when you get a chance,” she said.

“Call who?” he asked, frowning. Grabbing the back of his chair, she shook it to get his attention.

“Your wife,” she said. “Pull it together, Dan.” He didn’t respond, realizing he was in a touchy place. That lanky brain surgeon, the one he claimed creeped him out, monopolized every thought since he saw her for the first time Sunday. He’d asked the cop from New Orleans what his connection was with her.

“Just following through with her daughter’s disappearance,” Ryan had said. “Why do you ask?”

“Trying to keep track of who’s who, that’s all,” Dan said. But it would make it easier for him to make a play if she was single. “Is there a Mister Doctor in the picture?” Ryan had glanced at him sideways when he asked, although it wasn’t an inappropriate comment to make.

“Not yet,” he answered, looking him in the eye.

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