"Not a clue," Peter shrugged, tugging off his latex gloves with a loud snap. "But it's as good a place to start as any."
"I'm driving," I said as we both headed to the door. "Driver picks the radio station and I'm not listening to your shit taste in music today."
Three
CARLA
"Ryker, please tell me that's the last appointment for the day."
I looked up as my office administrator sauntered into my office. Just under six feet tall, muscular and wiry, his pale skin was covered in tattoos, some of them peeking over the collar and beyond the cuffs of his suit jacket. Starkly handsome, he would be devastating if he only smiled more often. But he didn't and I'd long ago stopped expecting him to. Doing hard time would knock all the smiles out of you.
"Last one Dr. Androghetti," he replied, placing a stack of paperwork in the middle pocket of my briefcase. We'd been together long enough that the knew I would tackle it all at home after a hot shower or soak and a glass of wine. Like a couple of old married people, we even bickered like one so I couldn't resist reminding him about our agreement.
"If that was the last patient of the day, then you agreed to call me Carla." I shoved away from the desk and leaned back in the leather chair. I gave him a glare but it was half-hearted because today had been a bitch of a day. Helping people was my passion but it was exhausting. "That was the deal once we crossed the boss/employer thing and morphed into friends."
"If I had any clue that the consequence of holding your hair back as you puked in the toilet during that ugly bout of stomach flu would be becoming your BFF, I would have let you drown." His words were harsh but the lift of his lip told me that he wouldn't have actually let me die in a bowl of artificially blue water. "It's time for you to get the hell out of here because I have somewhere to be and if I leave you here, you'll work until midnight again."
"Where are you going?" I ignored his crack about my workaholic tendencies, there was no use in denying that the this tiger had stripes. But Ryker had let slip that he had plans for the evening and inquiring minds wanted to know. "Do you have a date?"
"I'm going to Landslide." He shrugged at the mention of our favorite club and my excitement dimmed. We went there all the time and it was a great place to hook-up but not for much of anything else. And for Ryker . . . I wanted him to have something besides blowjobs in the back room and one-night stands back at some strangers apartment. He read my mind because he dismissed with a slash of his hand. "Don't give me that look. I'm good."
"Will Sebastian be there?"
He shrugged but I didn't miss the tension that settled between his shoulder blades at my mention of the man he wanted but could not have. "I can't afford him so it doesn't matter."
I opened my mouth to start our usual argument, but the appearance of a stranger in the doorway pulled me up short. Tall and leanly built, he reminded me of a mountain with the sharp angles of his face too harsh to make him handsome. Striking. Sexy. Someone you would remember. His gaze swept over me, controlled but interested. Yes, he wanted something from me but his quick inhale of breath told me that it wasn't a professional appointment.
I stood to greet him just as a larger African-American man filled what was left of my open doorway. Ryker stepped in front of me, placing his body in between us and I wasn't going to object.
The first man was. . .dangerous. Something told me to be careful around him.
"Dr. Androghetti?" He stepped forward, pulling an ID case out of the pocket of his suit jacket. The badge was shiny. It looked real. Ryker took two steps forward and took it from him, scanning it before returning it to him and giving me a nod of confirmation.
"How can I help you?" I rant through my patients in my head. None of them seemed in a place to involve the police.
"I'm Detective Cross and this is Detective Simms. We need to ask you a few questions." He slipped his ID case back into his pocket and my gaze was drawn to his hands. Large with long fingers, scrapes and bruises across the knuckles. Recently inflicted. A man who didn't mind getting his hands dirty.
"Of course. Whatever you need." I took two paces backward, settling when I could lean against the edge of my desk. Ryker moved to the side, standing against the wall of my office. Still close but not a wall between us. Detective Simms moved into his orbit, his eyes trained on my watchdog as he pulled out a notebook and pen while Cross crossed into my personal space.