Gripping the steering wheel as if her life depended on it—my life does depend on it—she hit the gas pedal like a woman possessed. Shooting past the other car, she took the left turn like a speeding bullet, crossing the path of an oncoming truck, much to the fury of the driver. The noise of his horn was still blaring in her ears when, panting as though she had just run a marathon, she pulled into Eve’s driveway.
“Uh, Dr. Sinclair?” Tegan regarded Leon from the door of his office with the same expression on her face she might wear if she was watching an escaped tiger. It was the look she had worn ever since he had reprimanded her for gossiping about Flora in relation to Joy Valeski’s death. When had that been? It felt like another century.
He looked up with a slight frown. The morning appointments had been non-stop, and this was the first break they’d had. He’d been hoping to call Flora, then he’d remembered she no longer had a cell phone. How the hell was he supposed to get through the rest of the day not knowing if she was okay?
“Yes?” He tried to disguise the impatience he was feeling. It wasn’t Tegan’s fault that work was the last thing on his mind right now.
“I thought you should see this.”
She handed him her smart phone and he got the strong impression that she wanted to run away. He glanced at the screen and his gaze became riveted. Tegan had been checking her social media accounts and one platform contained a page entitled “Doctor Death.” It was a smear campaign targeted at Flora.
Whoever had set it up had taken the Stillwater Sentinel report written just before the Ryerson Center opened. Using the same picture of Flora, and a similar format, the revised article contained allegations ranging from a vague hint that she had been forced to leave Denver because of professional misconduct to a blatant allegation that she was responsible for the deaths of Joy Valeski and Lilith Bronson. The final message was clear: the citizens of Stillwater should get this woman out of their town.
“Do you know who is behind this?” Leon asked.
“No.” Tegan shook her head so hard he was surprised she didn’t fall over. “I swear. I was just scrolling through and that came up on my timeline. It seems to be aimed at people who live in Stillwater.”
He scrubbed a weary hand over his face. If Tegan had seen it, most of the residents of Stillwater probably had as well. He would contact Laurie and she could arrange to get it pulled. He didn’t imagine these things happened fast, and, in the meantime, damage was being done to Flora’s reputation. Would the police be able to discover who was behind this poison? He wasn’t hopeful.
“Thank you for bringing it to my attention. You did the right thing.”
Tegan flushed, her hands twisting together nervously. “Dr. Sinclair, is it true that the Main Street Clinic is going to close?”
Leon paused before answering. There had still been no sign of Alan Grayson. Laurie had checked his credit cards and recent transactions showed signs of suspicious activity because he had withdrawn large sums of money. But even if he wasn’t implicated in the murders, things weren’t looking good for the man who had founded the Main Street Clinic. Before they were killed, both Joy and Lilith had given Flora information that suggested Alan was guilty of malpractice. The longer he remained missing, the more damning it looked.
“I don’t know, Tegan. I wish I could give you a better answer, but I don’t have any information right now. If I hear any more, I’ll let you know.”
“It’s just—” she sucked in a breath, the next words coming out in a rush “—I heard there’s a position at the daycare center. I don’t want to leave here, but I have a childcare qualification and...”
Leon almost smiled at the irony. Just as Flora had found herself a receptionist, it looked like he was about to lose his. If Tegan went, the Main Street Clinic would just be Leon.
“If there is another job you want to apply for, you should take that opportunity. I can’t make you any promises about what the future will look like here.”
She nodded. “Thank you for being honest.”
When Tegan had gone, he reached for the phone on his desk and called the Stillwater Police Department. Chief Delaney and Detective Nolan were both out on police business. Frustrated, he left a message asking one of them to call him back urgently.
His next appointment was with an elderly man named Bradley Warren who pushed the door wide without knocking. Standing in the doorway, he looked Leon up and down with a frown.
“Who are you?”
Leon got to his feet and held out his hand. He had already checked Mr. Warren’s file and knew he was one of Alan Grayson’s patients. “I’m Dr. Sinclair. I’m afraid Dr. Grayson is unavailable so I’m covering his appointments.”
Mr. Warren ignored the hand. Stalking past Leon, he dropped into a chair. “Unavailable? Is that a fancy way of saying ‘on the run’?”
“Pardon?” Leon moved to his own side of the desk, trying to decide on the best approach to take with this unconventional character.
Mr. Warren wheezed out a chuckle. “Think you can hide what’s going on?” He tapped the side of his nose. “The rest of the town might be fooled, but not me. No, sir. I had it figured right from the start.”
“How can I help you today, Mr. Warren?” Leon wasn’t sure sticking to the script would work, but he decided to give it a try.
His attempt provoked a fit
