Chapter 11
T
rue to his prediction, Rafe was summoned to Grayson’s office to chat the following day. Rafe canceled his patient load and gave Darcy the day off, then hurried to the community center where Grayson held court.
Rafe had been introduced to Samuel when he first arrived in town, as Samuel liked to personally greet anyone who was looking to become a permanent part of his community, but the meeting had hardly been memorable, at least on Samuel’s part.
Now Rafe could see keen interest light up Samuel’s eyes as he entered the office. He was probably wondering, was this a man who could benefit me somehow? Another doctor in his pocket would likely serve him well. Playing the game sickened Rafe, but he was willing to do whatever he had to to find his son.
“Please, take a seat,” Grayson said, gesturing to the seat opposite his expansive mahogany desk. Two tonic waters appeared, thanks to the helpful—and pretty—personal assistants Grayson kept flitting about for his business. And other things, he’d heard rumored. Rafe accepted a water and cracked it with a dutiful swig. Grayson left his untouched but appeared pleased by Rafe’s actions. “I hear you want to help at the clinic? Virgil says you come highly qualified.”
“Thank you, sir,” Rafe said. “I’m honored that you would even consider me for service. I feel the need to do more for my community and I heard that the clinic is short staffed at the moment.”
“Happily, our population continues to grow with like-minded people, but that does put a strain on our resources at present,” Grayson admitted. “Our maternity ward is quite full at all times. Cold Plains is a place for families and we’re overjoyed at the fertile bounty. However, more hands would be a blessing.”
“Obstetrics and pediatrics aren’t exactly my forte, but I’d be happy to fill in wherever I’m needed.”
“Virgil said you had a good attitude. I see he was right. Tell me, have you become a Devotee to the Cold Plains way?” Grayson asked, putting Rafe on the spot.
Technically, he hadn’t pledged yet and this was likely something Grayson already knew but it all hinged on how he answered. Rafe went with a variation of the truth. “I support everything Cold Plains stands for, and I attend the meetings as I can. But I haven’t pledged just yet.”
“Any particular reason? What’s holding you back?” Grayson asked mildly as if he were merely curious, when in fact, Rafe knew he was being tested.
“Can I share a personal philosophy?” he said, sidestepping the question a little, to which Grayson nodded with curiosity. “There are people who get baptized and then do all manner of ungodly things because they think, well, hell, I’m in the clear because I’ve been forgiven. And then there are the people who never step foot in a church but are known by their good work. I’m a man of action, not words. I believe in the Cold Plains way. I think you’ve created a good thing here, but I don’t feel it’d be right for me to pledge just for the sake of doing it. Know me by my actions, not my words.”
Rafe held his breath, knowing he may have just shot himself in the foot. And the longer the pause went on, Rafe wished he’d just lied and said he was planning to pledge that week. But just when the tension grew to an unbearable level, Grayson broke into an amused grin, saying, “I like you. You’re honest. And we need honest men.” He straightened, getting to business. “But good character aside, when people pledge and become Devotees, it’s more about fostering community and becoming a stronger unit by encouraging conformity to the way we live.”
“Are you saying I need to pledge to volunteer at the clinic?” Rafe asked.
Grayson shrugged. “Of course not. You’ve proven yourself an honorable and valuable member of the community, but I’d like you to reconsider. You’d make an excellent ambassador. We need people like you on our side, promoting the Cold Plains lifestyle.”
“I’ll give it serious consideration,” Rafe said.
“See that you do,” Grayson said, looking up when an assistant appeared at the door.
“Your next appointment is here, Mr. Grayson,” the pert blonde said with an adoring smile.
“Thank you, Penny,” Grayson said. There was nothing in his voice to suggest impropriety, but maybe it was because Rafe had heard stories to the contrary that he couldn’t help but see Grayson’s gaze alight on the young woman’s supple and trim curves. Penny disappeared and Grayson returned his attention to Rafe, who had already stood to take his leave. “I like that you’re a straight shooter, Rafe Black. An honest man is a rarity these days. Virgil will be in touch. Thank you for coming in.”
“My pleasure, Mr. Grayson,” he murmured, accepting another perfunctory handshake before letting himself out. Before he walked out the front doors, he saw Penny slip into the office and heard the muffled click of the lock turning.
Disgusted, Rafe hurried from the building before he lost his lunch and blew the carefully cultivated act he’d orchestrated to dupe Grayson.
It was worth it, he reminded himself.
Anything was worth finding Devin.
Darcy caught wind of the fact that Rafe was interviewing for a volunteer position at the clinic. When they returned to the office the next day, she was full of questions that were probably none of her business, but it troubled her more than she wanted to admit, thinking that Rafe was on board with the Cold Plains cuckoos. She’d since discovered that the clinic was ground zero for the cultie sect.
“How was your meeting?” she asked, trying for nonchalant but likely failing. She’d never been much of an actress, but she supposed she’d better get skilled fast if she wanted to get anywhere here. Well, she’d get some practice with Rafe. “Everything go okay?”
“It went very well,” he answered with a smile. “Did you enjoy your day off?”
Ah, polite banter. That’s right. Cue the banal details of an otherwise uneventful day. “I went to the library, checked out a book or two—okay, twist my arm, it was three—and I met Officer McCall. Nice guy. Cute, too.” Now, why’d she add that? Maybe to gauge Rafe’s reaction.
At McCall’s name, Rafe looked at her sharply. “Oh? You like him?”
“He seems nice enough. I guess he’s a native. Born and raised right here in Cold Plains. Of course he said it used to be a lot different back in the day. In fact, things really started to change—for the better, of course—when Mr. Grayson decided to put down roots.”
“Yes, I’ve heard the town was much different before Samuel…even the street names.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh yeah. You know, this used to be Oak and Elm, now it’s Success Avenue and Principle Lane.”
“Boy, that kinda sucks for the locals who grew up with the streets the old way,” she murmured, flabbergasted that someone would move into town and then change the street names.
He shrugged. “No one seemed to complain too loudly.”
They were probably afraid to, thought Darcy. “So, you’re thinking of volunteering at the clinic? You’re already pretty busy.”
“It’s important to me,” he said.
“Why?” she asked.
“I…” he started, then frowned as if he’d been about to give away more than he was ready to impart. He finished with a smile. “It just is.”
“I get it, something personal. I’m sorry to have pressed. I just thought that the clinic might not be your style.”
As in, I’d hoped you weren’t part of that group but apparently you are.
She worked hard to conceal the sharp disappointment welling in her chest. “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
His stare narrowed and she wondered what she’d said wrong, but whatever it was disappeared in the next blink. “My first patient will be here soon. I need to go over my case notes,” he said, turning and disappearing into his office.
Darcy let out a shaky breath, wondering what sort of nerve she’d hit with her innocent comment. She’d give anything to have a peek inside that brain of his. There was a reason he pushed himself to the extreme and was now looking to volunteer at the clinic. Something didn’t add up—the looks, the quiet steel behind his eyes and now this sudden urge to spend every waking moment with the community of Cold Plains. If she didn’t know better, she’d say Rafe Black had something to hide, or maybe, he was looking for something, just like her.
She needed to spend more time with Rafe. But if he planned to spread himself so thin, how was she to carve any time out for her?
Leaning back in her chair, she fiddled with her bracelet, hoping inspiration would hit her. She needed a plan, something to put her closer to the man. The door opening interrupted her thoughts as Rafe’s first patient entered. Shelving her personal dilemma for the moment, she put on a smile and did her best to charm everyone who walked through the front door.
Bo had received a summons from Grayson five minutes before he was set to head home. He’d grumbled when he’d read the caller ID on his phone, but he hadn’t dared ignore the call, which was why, instead of enjoying a beer, he was listening to Grayson chastise him for being late with his delivery.
“What’s the delay?” Grayson demanded, his patience growing thinner by each failed attempt to get Darcy Craven into Grayson’s office for a “meeting.”
“I can’t seem to catch her. She’s working a lot with Doc Black, and each time I’ve gone by her hotel room, she’s been out.”
“I’m starting to feel as if she isn’t interested in meeting me.”
“I’m sure that’s not it,” Bo assured Grayson, though it smacked of all kinds of wrong to be mollifying a grown man like a spoiled child, but in some ways, Bo had discovered Grayson could give kids a run for their money in the petulant department. “She’s just new to town and getting to know people, I guess. She’ll come around eventually.”
“I want to meet her now,” Grayson said, a dark thread weaving its way into his voice. “This is getting ridiculous.”
Looking to distract Grayson, Bo said, “What happened to Penny? Your new assistant…she seemed like a nice gal.”
“For a time. Speaking of, she’ll need some aftercare. Take her to the clinic tomorrow. Use the back entrance. I don’t need that officer of yours asking questions.”
Ah hell. That meant Penny was probably a mess. Sometimes Grayson got a little overzealous in his bed play, and cuts and bruises occurred.
“Where is she?” Bo asked.
Grayson gestured to the bedroom cleverly concealed behind a false wall in his office.
“Maybe I ought to take a look.”
“Be my guest. She’s finally stopped crying. It wasn’t even that vigorous. I hardly used the cat-o’-nine-tails.”
Bo winced. The cat-o’-nine was a vicious whip. He wouldn’t want that sucker striking on his butt, that was for sure. He pushed on the false wall and it swung open, revealing a young woman lying facedown on the bed, bloody welts and gashes lacing her exposed flesh. Bo rolled her over and bit back a few curses when he saw her fat lip and black eye. “Was that really necessary?” he asked, irritated at the mess he’d have to clean up.
Grayson considered the question as if it hadn’t been rhetorical, then shrugged. He either didn’t have an answer or didn’t care to offer one. It didn’t matter. Bo would be the one cleaning up his dirty work. “She needs a doctor now,” he said, eyeing the unconscious girl with a critical eye. “If we wait until tomorrow, she could be dead.”
“Really? I didn’t think it was that serious.”
“Well, it is,” Bo snapped. “I’ll have someone from the clinic bring a car. I can’t very well load her into my cruiser, looking the way she does.”
“Good thinking. Now back to the issue at hand. As you can see, I’ve lost my companion for the evenings. Seeing as I have an opening now with my personal assistants, perhaps we can offer Darcy a compelling reason to leave Dr. Black’s employment and join mine?”
Bo refrained from snarling that he wasn’t his secretary and sure as hell wouldn’t start acting like one, but his patience was sorely tried. This little mess was already flaring his ulcer. Stomach acid had begun to churn the minute Grayson had said Penny would need some “aftercare,” which was code for hospital time in the infirmary. When he saw the girl naked, spread-eagle and unconscious, his stomach went into high gear. He’d be lucky by night’s end if he could choke down enough antacid to get some sleep.
“Listen, do yourself a favor…no more of these little parties. There’s a lot of heat coming down and a lot of attention on you. If you don’t want to spend the rest of your life sitting in a ten-by-ten cell, you’d better start towing the line.”
Grayson’s stare narrowed, plainly not happy with the way Bo was talking to him, but that was too damn bad. Bo’s gut ached and his head hurt and it was all because Grayson couldn’t keep his extracurricular activities from doing bodily damage.
Lord help them if the FBI found Grayson’s DNA on Johanna Tate’s body. Damn that snot-nosed kid officer poking his nose where it didn’t belong. Just one more thing to make his life difficult.
Chapter 12
R
afe received the call he’d been waiting for at 4:45 p.m., right after his last patient said goodbye.
“Someone made a good impression,” Virgil said on the other line. “Ready to sign your life away in service?” he joked, but Rafe knew the jest held some truth and he was prepared. “We can’t wait to put you to good work. The Saturday clinic is just the place for you, and it won’t interfere with your weekday patients. Best of both worlds.”