The Object of His Protection

Seeing it was almost five o’clock, she stood up after logging off her computer. She then recalled Drey’s visit and what he had asked her to do. Deciding now would be the best time since Nate had left for a meeting, she went into the autopsy room to take a look at Joe Dennis’s chart. Nate had just finished performing the autopsy on Dennis, and the chart was still lying on the table. She picked it up and began reading.

“Trauma to the head, consistent with an attack from behind, as well as several other bruises to neck and shoulders.” She raised her brow at the notation that a key had been removed from the victim’s stomach. She glanced over at the key that was on the table. Why would anyone swallow a key?

Deciding that was definitely something worth mentioning to Drey, she left the autopsy room, determined to call Drey once she got home. She was about to exit the room when she heard Nate talking loudly to another man. Odd, she thought, because in the three years she’d worked with Nate, she had never known him to raise his voice. And why had he returned in the first place? Most of the time his meetings lasted for an hour or longer.

She decided it was none of her business. Besides, she’d better leave before Nate found something else for her to do. As she headed for the door, she couldn’t help noticing that the voices had gotten louder. She paused. Nate was definitely upset about something, but so was the man he was talking to. His voice was deep and sounded slightly hoarse. She could only assume, since she hadn’t been sitting at her desk when Nate returned, that he thought she had left for the day. Not wanting to eavesdrop on Nate’s argument any longer, she slipped out the door.

Drey heard his cell phone ring the moment he stepped out of the shower. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he quickly walked out of the bathroom to pick it up off the nightstand next to his bed. “Yes?”

“Drey, this is Charlene.”

He felt his stomach churn and immediately thought, not for the first time, that she had such a sexy phone voice. There was just something about it that made goose bumps rise on his skin. Wanting to curb the boost to his testosterone level, he said, “Charlie.”

She paused a moment, and he figured she’d done so to blow off a little steam, before saying, “I was able to take a look at Nate’s report on Dennis.”

The way she said the statement told him there was more. “And?”

“And I noticed a couple of things you might want to know.”

“Such as?”

“There was trauma to the head consistent with some sort of an attack from behind.”

Drey nodded. Not that the police had been much help, but he had paid a visit to headquarters after lunch hoping to learn something not on paper. For some reason it seemed everyone had closed lips. Usually they would loosen for a former member of their own, but today was not the case. And unfortunately, Detective Lavender Sessions, his former partner while on the force, was out of town. Like Charlene, Drey could always count on him to tell him what he needed to know.

“And there’s something else pretty strange about Joe Dennis.”

Charlene’s statement cut deep into his thoughts. “What?”

“He swallowed a key.”

“Excuse me?” Drey said, certain he hadn’t heard her right.

“I said he swallowed a key. One was taken out of his stomach.”

Drey rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Are you sure?” Immediately, he knew he had made a mistake in asking her that. In all his dealings with Charlene he had come to realize that she was a professional who knew her business.

“Of course I’m sure. Not only did I read it in the report, but I saw it myself. Nate hadn’t removed it from the table.”

Drey didn’t say anything for a moment; he was too busy thinking. Had Dennis swallowed the key to keep it from getting into someone else’s hands? Was the key a link to Harmon’s death? Those were questions he intended to get answered. “What sort of key was it?” he asked.

“Too small to be a door key. It was more like the size of a locker key or safe-deposit box key.”

He rubbed his chin again, his curiosity igniting. “I need a copy of that key,” he said, placing the phone on speaker so he could get dressed.

“That’s not possible, Drey. I don’t mind passing information on to you if I think it will help your case, but I draw the line at removing anything that could later become evidence.”

“And I’m not asking you to,” he said quickly.

“Well, what are you asking me to do?”

He could hear the agitation in her voice. The last thing he wanted to do was get her teed off, especially now when he needed information about that key. “I’m asking that you provide me a mold of it in wax. I’ve got a small kit that resembles a ladies’ compact.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, as if contemplating his request. And then she asked, “But what good is that when you don’t know what the key goes to?”

“I’ll find out. So will you get an indention of that key?”

“I don’t know, Drey….”

“Please.” If he sounded desperate, there was no help for it. He needed to know everything about Joe Dennis’s death, especially now that he knew it hadn’t been from natural causes.

He could hear her deep sigh and felt his heart begin to beat wildly in his chest. Even her sigh was a turn-on.

“Okay, fine,” she said.

He couldn’t help but smile. If he solved the case and was able to link it back to Harmon’s death, then he owed her more than just dinner. “Meet me tonight so I can give the kit to you.”

“Where?”

“You name the place. Better yet, if you give me your home address I can drop it off there.”

He heard the hesitation in her voice and was about to throw out another option when she said, “That’s fine, since I really don’t want to go back out tonight. I live in the Rippling Shores Condos.”

He knew the area. It was a newly developed subdivision of nice townhomes. “I know where it’s located. What’s the condo number?”

She rattled it off to him and he saved it in his memory. “I’ll be there in less than an hour.”

He smiled when, with not even a goodbye, she hung up the phone. For some reason he was looking forward to seeing her without her lab coat.

Chapter 2

Charlene glanced out the window and wondered for the umpteenth time why she had given Drey her address instead of meeting him somewhere. What had happened to her “do not mix business with pleasure” rule?

She was used to seeing him in a business setting, but now he would invade her personal space. The only consolation was that since he was dropping something off she wouldn’t have to invite him inside.

Satisfied with that, she glanced down at herself. Okay, so she had decided to change out of the frayed pair of shorts and T-shirt she had put on after coming home into a skirt and blouse. No big deal. It wasn’t as though he would see her in them. It was dark outside and all she had to do was poke her head out the door to get whatever he had to give her. Again, no big deal. She sighed deeply, thinking she was definitely making a lot out of things she considered to be no big deal.

When she heard a car door slam, her breath caught and for a moment she didn’t move. She inhaled deeply, trying to control her racing pulse. There was no reason to get nervous and jittery. Drey St. John wasn’t the first guy to come to her house…but she had to admit he was the first one in over a year, if you didn’t count the serviceman who dropped by a few weeks ago to take a look at her computer when it had gone on the blink.

She didn’t want to think about Carlos Hollis, the guy she had dated nearly two years ago. They had met at one of those financial seminars and she had taken him up on his offer to go somewhere for drinks afterward. They ended up going on a couple of dates after that, and when he began hinting that he wanted to sleep with her, she felt it was only fair to let him know up front that she was a virgin. He informed her that most guys were turned off by any virgin over the age of twenty-two, and to prove his point he never called her again.

Charlene heard the knock on the door and for a brief moment she contemplated not answering, which made absolutely no sense. There is simply no reason for you to be nervous, she told herself firmly as she headed toward the door. She reached for the doorknob and paused before turning it, convinced that even through the thickness of the wood that separated them she could breathe in Drey’s scent. At least it was the scent that she always associated with him, robust and definitely manly. Drawing in a deep breath, she opened the door slightly and saw how the glow from the porch light lit his handsome features before she acknowledged him. “Drey.”

“You shouldn’t have opened the door until you were absolutely sure it was me, Charlie.”

She thought about closing the door on him but decided she was a lot more mature than that. Instead, she opened it a little wider to place her arms across her chest and glare at him, or at least she tried to while attempting to downplay the heated sensations flowing through her. “The name is Charlene and I knew it was you.”

“And how did you know that? I note you don’t have a peephole in your door.”