Page 64 of Where There's Smoke

; Lara drew herself up, angry for having stooped to his level. By doing so, she’d left herself open to counterattack. In a cool, professional voice she said, “Helen is seriously considering abortion. Until she reaches a firm decision, I’ll be happy to give her prenatal care, provided she comes here alone, without you.”

“She won’t be coming here at all. All we wanted from you tonight was a yea or nay.” Angrily, he reached into the hip pocket of his tight, worn jeans and fingered out his money clip. “How much do I owe you?”

“This one’s on me, but I want something in exchange.”

“Like what? No, let me guess. Let’s see… a free flight to Timbuktu?”

She had wondered if he would make reference to their last conversation and wasn’t surprised that his remark was sarcastic. She didn’t take the bait. “What I want is your promise—”

“I don’t make promises to women. While Clark was filling your ear about my sex life, did he fail to mention that?”

She strove to keep her voice even. “I don’t want you dumping any more of your garbage at my back door. This is the second time I’ve had to clean up one of your messes. Leave me out of them, please. I want no part of your juvenile, romantic escapades.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

Menacingly, he came nearer, until he was standing so close that their clothing was touching. She could feel his body heat, feel his breath on her uplifted face. His rage, too, was palpable. Only sheer determination kept her from backing down.

“That’s funny, Doc,” he whispered huskily. “I’d’ve thought this kind of romantic escapade was right up your alley.”

She held her ground and his blue stare for as long as she could stand them, then backed up a few steps and turned away. “I’ve tried to make Helen reasonably calm, but she’s still upset,” she said over her shoulder. “If you have a smidgen of decency you’ll be gentle with her tonight. No blame. No recriminations. Until she decides how to resolve this crisis, she’s going to need patience and understanding.”

“Well that’s just fine, because I fairly ooze the milk of human kindness.”

Lara shot him a fulminating look, then gave him her back and walked down the hall. She tapped on the examination room door before going inside. Helen was lying on her back on the padded table, staring at the acoustical tiles in the ceiling. Lara was relieved to see that she was no longer crying.

She plastered on a smile she hoped didn’t look too false. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Good. Key’s waiting for you.”

She assisted Helen off the table and they moved into the hallway. He was waiting at the back door, as though ready to make a quick getaway. To say he had the morals of an alley cat would be doing alley cats a disservice. It was a pity that his character didn’t match his good looks.

The open collar of his shirt provided only a glimpse of what Lara knew was a broad chest. His jeans fit his sex, narrow hips, and long thighs like a second skin. Clark had rarely worn casual clothes, never Levi’s. She’d never seen either him or Randall in cowboy boots. Key’s were well-worn victims of the elements.

Key Tackett’s women, she thought scornfully.

Being so physically attractive, his success with women wasn’t surprising. Within weeks, he had slept with Darcy Winston and this eighteen-year-old. How many others were there? His affair with Darcy wasn’t as shocking as his dalliance with this girl so much younger and more innocent than he. For some vague and disturbing reason, she was disappointed in him.

To his credit, he opened his arms to Helen, who rushed into his embrace. He held her tightly against him for several moments, his head bent low over hers, whispering so softly into her ear that Lara couldn’t distinguish the words. Between sobs, Helen nodded her head against his chest.

Then, setting her away, he said, “Wait for me in the car, sweetheart. I’ll be right out.”

On her way through the door, she gave Lara a hasty thank-you. Key said nothing until Helen was out of earshot. “I’ll see that she gets proper prenatal care, but it won’t be from you.”

Lara lamented losing a patient, but reasoned that was the price she would pay for giving him a lecture on philandering. In lieu of saying anything she might later regret, she gave him a curt nod. At this point she was willing to leave well enough alone.

Not Key. He got in another parting shot. “On my way over here, I heard something on the radio that might interest you. Late this afternoon, Letty Leonard died.”

Key wasn’t the only one who had heard of the child’s death. Jody had.

Eden Pass was situated midway between the Dallas/Fort Worth metropolitan area and Shreveport, Louisiana. Its location provided it with a large selection of television stations. All three networks had affiliates in those cities, which were carried by the local cable company, along with CNN and other major cable stations.

When it came to regional news, however, Jody relied on the station that broadcast from Tyler. She personally knew the owners and was familiar with the on-air talent. Watching their newscasts was like having a member of her family visit every night to deliver the news.