Both Caitlyn and Erin reached out and placed their hands on her arms, giving a supportive squeeze in unison.
“That must’ve been so hard for you,” Caitlyn said.
“It was, but the detective was kind. I mean… you know… efficient. But, yes… kind.”
She watched as Caitlyn and Erin looked at each other, their lips curving slightly. Turning, she opened the refrigerator to get the milk for Colleen, hoping her sisters would leave her fumbling words alone. She should have known that would never happen.
“You seemed awfully flustered when talking about the detective,” Caitlyn said, moving to one side of Tara.
Erin closed in on the other side. “Anything special about him?”
“No, I’m not flustered. And no, there was nothing special about him.”
“Hmmm, methinks thou doth protest too much.” Caitlyn grinned as she tapped her forefinger on her chin.
“So, what does he look like?” Erin asked.
Whirling around to glare at both of her sisters, she said, “Truthfully? Tall, fit, blond, handsome, and charming. Remind you of anyone?”
“Damn,” Erin huffed.
Caitlyn’s smile had dropped from her face, replaced by concern in her eyes. “Tara, honey, not every handsome, charming man is like Calvin.”
Dropping her chin to her chest, she sighed. “I know. Really, I know.” Lifting her gaze back to her sisters, she added, “But right now, being a mom to Colleen is way more important than putting my trust into another man.”
Before they had a chance to continue their conversation, Colleen burst into the room, a wide smile on her face. “I’m starving!”
“Well, good, let’s eat!” Tara said.
Later that evening, after Caitlin and Erin had left and Colleen had been put to bed, Tara poured a glass of wine and sat on the sofa, her mind whirling. When Colleen was younger, Tara was always so tired at the end of the day that she often fell into bed soon after finishing household chores once Colleen was asleep. Now, with Colleen a little more independent, she found that her evenings gave her more time to think. And once more, she found her thoughts moving to the handsome detective.
Even though there was a physical similarity between him and her ex-husband, there was one obvious distinction—the detective did not mind work. With her father and two brothers working in law enforcement, she knew how committed they were to their jobs and how hard they worked, often in difficult conditions. Snorting, she thought of Calvin. Hard work and commitment turned out not to be his strong suit.
Draining her wine glass, she shook her head as she placed it in the sink and walked upstairs. She had no reason to see Detective Fiske again, so she was determined to put him out of her mind. No more wasting time thinking of someone that would never be more than a passing acquaintance.
8
Walking past Ever Hope the next morning on his way to the clinic, Carter wondered if Tara was inside. Probably too early. Disappointment speared through him and he jolted at the realization of how much he wanted to see her.
Continuing past, he approached the clinic door. It dawned on him that if the clinic was not open yet, he might not be able to get in. His concern was unfounded as a young woman wearing nursing scrubs pushed the door open as soon as he appeared and showed his badge.
She locked it after he followed her inside. “Hello, Detective. It’s a cold one out there today, isn’t it?” Her nose was red, and her hands were encased in gloves. Holding her fingers up and giving them a little wave, she said, “To save money, we cut the heat down in the evenings, and it takes a little while in the mornings to get warm.
“Are you one of the nurses here?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Kate Burks, and yes, I’m one of the full-time nurses.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said. “You mentioned that you’re full-time. Are there part-time nurses here as well?”
She nodded and smiled as she walked through the clinic and flipped on light switches. “Yes, there are several part-time nurses, but others of us are full-time. I don’t usually open, but Polly is going to be late today. She’s been around for a long time and knows the ropes. This is only my second year here.” Continuing to lead him toward the back, she called over her shoulder, “Polly told me that you’d be coming this morning to meet with Dr. Tiller. He comes in through the back door and should already be in his office.”
He followed her down several twisting halls, coming to an open door with Dr. Tiller’s name on the plaque.
“Dr. Tiller? The detective is here.” Kate smiled at Carter as she stepped to the side, allowing him to pass into the office.
He heard her soft footsteps retreat down the hall. Dr. Doug Tiller stood from behind his desk, leaning forward with his hand extended. Carter took stock of the doctor as they shook hands and settled into the offered chair. “I’m Detective Carter Fiske. Thank you so much for taking the time to see me this morning.” He noted Dr. Tiller’s office was much larger than Robert’s. Medical certificates hung on the walls as well as photographs of the doctor with various politicians and some of Hope City’s wealthier residents.
He had already investigated the clinic from their website and knew that Dr. Tiller was a second-generation physician, his father having served the community before joining the board of Hope City General Hospital.
Carter often found people did not resemble their years-old social media photographs, but Dr. Tiller looked very much like his picture on the website. Tall, thin, and angular face with wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His dark hair was just starting to gray at the temples. His blue eyes peered back at Carter, and he observed dark circles underneath as though the doctor was not sleeping well at night.
“Marsha took the liberty of indicating what you had questioned
