The Very Worst Man, Page 2

  She dropped her keys into a side pocket and hurried into her business’s back door. “Hello, Brenda! Any emergencies while I was gone?”

  The tall blonde glanced up from the file folder she held. “Nope, just the usual. Tomorrow is booked solid with spay and neuters and a few vaccinations. Everything you need is on your desk.”

  Taking her lab coat, she put her purse in the desk drawer. “All right. I’ll check them before I leave. Who is next?”

  Brenda scanned the list. “Nothing I can’t handle. Fluffy is here for her shots, Tiny’s grooming is set before his shots, and how do you feel about expressing Chuck for me?”

  She grinned at the other woman’s pleading expression and went back to opening the electronic scheduler. “Better Chuck than Tiny.”

  Her assistant leaned against the wall. “What is it about Great Danes with that name? I’m sure it was original back when the breed was first introduced, but now?”

  Standing, Alexandra took the folder from her, teasing, “Come on, you know you love it.”

  “At least Fluffy isn’t a Mexican Hairless.”

  She laughed and said, “Good point,” as she opened the waiting room door. The first thing that grabbed her attention was a puffball of a cat stuffed into a carrier too small to contain her. Hurrying over to the exam table, she looked into the crate at the eyeless fur inside. “Fluffy? Are you in there?”

  “She’s in there somewhere,” Fluffy’s owner replied. The woman didn’t appear like the usual Persian cat owner. Her slender frame, deep tan, and genuinely roughed up work boots said “farm cat” and not “lap cat” owner.

  When the cat turned around, Alexandra saw two huge blue eyes above a flattened nose. She choked down a laugh. “Hello! My goodness, you’ve grown!”

  “Yeah, I suppose I should either shave her or get a bigger cage.”

  “I’d say so.” She opened the door and the cat stretched her neck, peering all around her. “Let’s pull her out of there so I can do a proper check up.”

  A couple of hours later, when she’d finally finished with stuffing oversized cats back into small spaces, squeezing gunk out of the back of a dog’s hind end, and checking the huge canines of a huge canine, Alexandra fell into her desk chair. She leaned on her desk, resting her elbows on the calendar under the keyboard. Closing time meant clean up time. Sure, they picked up as they went, but she wanted a wipe down every day before they left.

  Brenda peeked into the back office. “I’m done with the patient areas.”

  Ginny leaned around her and into the room too. “I’m done up front.”

  “Sounds good, so you both go home. Scram.”

  “Will do, boss. You do the same.” Alexandra gave Brenda a mock glare at the order and the other woman grinned. “Whenever you’re ready, of course.”

  “Of course. Thanks, Bren. See you and Ginny tomorrow.”

  “See ya,” the other girl called back as she left the building and closed the door behind her.

  Alexandra moved the mouse so her computer would wake up. She needed to work the budget spreadsheet, especially this close to the end of the month. The numbers didn’t seem good. In fact, the numbers looked bad, like death bad. She scrolled down a little, double-checking expenses. Everything looked fine up to a point. Business expenses and payroll were deducted first. Next up, mortgage payments, both first and second, but the utilities? Utilities put it over the top.

  She needed to increase her income without increasing expenses somehow. She leaned back, shaking her head. Summer had been good to her, but winter’s heating bills meant cutting something like food or gas for the car. Food, maybe, but considering Stan’s edict, she couldn’t cut the fuel it’d take to visit him.

  Stan was counting on her driving over every week. Rawlings was what, 140 miles away from here, 150 from her home? Sick desperation formed in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t afford to go there so often but couldn’t disappoint him either. She’d be the only bright spot in his life. Ha, a little voice from the back of her mind sounded. As if she was important enough to brighten anyone’s life. She took in a deep breath, glad she’d not said anything about being uplifting to Stan. He’d have laughed at the idea of her being so conceited and told her she needed to get over herself.

  Her stomach growled and she looked at the clock. Eight? No wonder it was dark outside. She grabbed her purse out of the lowest desk drawer and reached inside for her keychain where it was supposed to be. Brushing against Wells’ card reminded her of seeing him this morning. She took the card from her purse pocket to read Hayden P. Wells, Prosecuting Attorney. Weird, this odd mix of revulsion and interest pinging at her brain. She blamed it on his good looks and despicable character. Jerk. She shoved the card back into the pocket, making a mental note to put it in her billfold later. No sense in tossing his information just because he’s an ass. She’d need him if, or rather, when she found something that exonerated Stan. Alexandra stood, stretching and pulling her keys from the pocket.

  Thoughts still on her budget, she locked up her practice and slid into her car. Maybe cutting down the laundry service and getting a good used washer and dryer installed at the practice might save her some money. She pulled out onto the road. This car was too much in payments and insurance. Trading in for a cheaper make might help too. She’d have to check with the dealership to see how much she’d save by downgrading. At a red light, she rubbed her eyes, frustrated. She could bring her washer and dryer from home. That’d save on both the cost of sending out laundry and buying new appliances for the practice. Running the numbers in her head, she thought she’d have enough to see Stan every week, but only just.

  If he weren’t so stubborn about keeping his house and truck at the ready for his return, she’d sell this car and drive his vehicle. She clicked the garage door opener and tapped on the steering wheel while waiting. He’d insisted on leaving his truck at home, not liking her idea of storing it in her garage. She looked over at the empty space. Alex had the room and didn’t mind. She could put down a tarp to catch the oil and rust. Shaking her head at how vulnerable he’d left things, she knew Stan would have a fit if she parked his truck here against his orders. She closed up the garage while getting out of the car and pushed away all the disaster scenarios running through her mind. If she left things alone like he wanted and something happened out at his place, it would be on him, not her. She had to keep reminding herself not to care what happened.

  Alexandra grabbed a frozen dinner from the upright freezer in the garage and went inside. The house was so quiet. She ran a finger along the dusty counter, vowing to spring clean this fall, and popped the food in the microwave. By the time it beeped, she’d changed into pajamas and scrubbed her face. Her stomach growled a reminder of how long ago breakfast had been. She took her food and a fork to the couch, clicking on the television. Not really watching the drama in front of her, she ate while fretting about Stan.

  In court, she’d listened to every word, every scrap of evidence. She scraped at the last bit of sauce with the fork tines. If there’d been some sort of alibi, one less domestic call to his and Sheila’s house, their lawyer might have found a way to raise doubt about Stan’s guilt. She bit her lip, throwing away the empty tray and rinsing the fork. Maybe she needed to approach this problem from a different angle. Thinking him innocent and looking for clues hadn’t worked so far. Maybe if she considered him guilty, clues to the real murderer might pop out at her.

  He had his faults but was her only family after their parents’ fatal accident. She needed to believe in him and what he’d told her. Now that she had the chance to help him, Alexandra wasn’t going to screw it up by not trusting him. Her cell phone buzzing on the coffee table caught her attention. She hurried to the living room, and disgusted that she’d forgotten to take it off silent, she picked up without looking at caller id. “Hello?”

  “You home?”

  Maxine on the phone was a welcome distraction. Alexandra fell onto the sofa, certain her f
riend would want to go out tonight. She hated turning her down, but she was just too tired. “Yeah, and for the night.”

  “Damn.” Her friend sighed. “Ok, no big deal. I wanted to see how Stan was dealing with prison.”

  “He’s not there, yet. Not the pen, anyway.”

  “So the best is yet to come, huh?” Before Alexandra could protest, Maxine continued, saying, “Sorry. That was bad.”

  She nodded subconsciously. “But true. He wants me to visit every week, and I have to admit, it’ll be tough.”

  In a voice pitched a few notes higher than normal, Maxine peppered her with questions. “Are you kidding me? Every effing week? Is he going to fill up your car or make up your time for the two hours over and back? That’s four hours in the car, however long for your strip search, and then you get to chat with a criminal? How nice. What day is he expecting you to drop everything and spend the day driving for him?”

  Deciding to ignore her strip-searching fears for now, she said, “Come on, be fair. You have to admit I have a lot more mobility than he does.”

  Maxine laughed. “Sorry, but the understatement kills me.”

  “Ok, yeah, it’s sort of funny.” She found the remote, using it to mute the television and switch to the weather. “Anyway….”

  “All right, anyway, I wanted to steal you away for a drink or two. Maybe dinner?”

  Her spirit willing, she wanted to say yes, but was already in comfy clothes and sans makeup. “I already ate, sorry.”

  “I know what you had and that’s not food.”

  She laughed, remembering her friend’s lecture in the snack food aisle. “That’s the last time you go grocery shopping with me.”

  “Not when it’s the only time you make for me.”

  Hearing the pout in her friend’s voice, she kidded, “Oh, boo hoo. You have Tim.”

  “Yeah, and he’s pretty awesome, but he’s not you.”

  Now she remembered why she adored Maxine so much. “Aw, poor baby. I’ve been mean, depriving you of my wonderful friendship.” Alexandra added extra oomph to the kidding, hoping to humor her into a better mood.

  “You have. So anyway, I’m assuming you’ll be out on Sundays, bowing to The Stan’s will. That leaves me Saturday nights unless you’ve decided to take on a man.”

  Her mind instantly flashed to Hayden. “No, no man. I don’t have time.”

  “Ooo, that’s sounding a little fishy. Tell me more.”

  “Nope. No fish.” She didn’t like the idea of lying to her, so Alex added in a little half-truth. “There’s gorgeous ones out there, but I’m not even baiting the hook.”

  “Too bad. You know, that prosecuting attorney that nailed Stan to the wall, wait. That just sounds wrong. He shoved Stan in the slammer, pushed him into prison, barricaded him behind bars—”

  Stopping Maxine before she really got started, she butted in. “I get it. What about him?”

  “Sorry. I was having fun.” She sighed as if Hayden Wells was in the room with her. “So he’s attractive. Too bad he’s good at his job.”

  “Yeah, too bad on both counts.” Alexandra hadn’t confided to Maxine about all the different scenarios she’d dreamed up, scenarios where Hayden was forced to see how wrong he was about Stan and have him acquitted. Hayden would then fall madly in love with her, her brother would approve, and they’d all live happily ever after. The only problem was in real life Mr. Wells remained stubbornly opposed to Stan’s innocence.

  Maxine broke into her fantasy by teasing her. “You both are such goodie goodies, you’d be, well, goodie together.”

  She laughed at the pun. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, but he’s anything but good.” To herself as much as her friend, she said, “The man is a piranha in human clothes. I even saw him today, got his business card, and then got the hell out of there.”

  “What! All this blah blah blah and you didn’t say a word about him? Where’d you see him? At the slammer or at your office?” She gasped. “Tell me you didn’t go see him yourself! You hate his guts. That’d have to be fun. Tell me next time you’re going to see him. I want to watch the fight. I’ll bring popcorn.”

  Alexandra gave her a couple of more seconds to add anything else before asking, “Done?”

  “Yeah, so tell me.”

  She could almost hear Maxine hopping up and down with impatience, so Alexandra didn’t delay any more. “I was visiting Stan.”

  “Big surprise.”

  “No interrupting. He shows up—”

  “Was he there to tease Stan about being guilty?”

  “No…Stan’s yesterday’s news to him. He was probably there for another client, or victim. Anyway, we left at the same time.” Guessing Maxine’s next comment, she headed her off at the pass. “Not together so don’t even start. He says some blah about evidence, stuff about Stan, to call him if I find anything substantial, and gives me his card with his cell phone number on the back.”

  “Oh. My. God.”

  Her friend sounded just like she’d scored the college quarterback’s digits and Alexandra laughed. “It’s no big deal. People throw around business cards every day.”

  “Not people like him. His cell phone? No way, Joe Say. He gets death threats every hour, I bet. He can’t just let anyone have his personal line.”

  “Personal? Don’t think so.” A small tremor of delight went through her at the idea of him considering her special enough to call him direct. Alexandra frowned, unhappy with being happy. She didn’t want to be on friendly terms with such an ass and blurted before thinking, “You’re being stupid.”

  “Hey hey, be nice. No need to use Stan’s favorite word against me.”

  Crossing the line of good behavior tasted like metal at the back of Alexandra’s throat. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Spending time with him today, adding in how I’m really not happy about finances, and throwing in Wells with his dismissal of ruining a man’s life means I’m stressed and didn’t think before taking it out on you.”

  “It’s cool, sweetie. I just don’t like you sounding like him at all. He could be a lot nicer to you, but what do I know?”

  The affection in her voice warmed Alexandra’s heart like a hot shower on a frozen day. “Thanks, you’re the best and you know a lot. As stressed as I am, Stan has it so much worse. Losing Sheila, the trial, and finally his freedom? After all that, I can’t complain if he’s a little snippy. Especially since he seems to be taking prison life pretty well so far.”

  “You’re a good sister. That’s why I’ve adopted you.” A grandfather clock chimed in the background, and Maxine paused until it finished counting out the hour. “Hey, tomorrow is here so I’ll let you go. You need the rest.”

  “Afraid you’re right. Let’s go out Saturday night with or without Tim, ok?”

  “What a great idea! Wish I’d thought of it first. Oh, wait….”

  Chuckling, she teased her friend, “Ha ha, I wish you had too! Good night, Max.”

  “Goodnight, Ax.”

  Alexandra clicked off the phone, exhausted. Comfy on the couch, she clicked off the TV and pulled the decorative blanket over her. A couple more nights just passing out, she thought, and I’ll need to bring a pillow in here too.

  She woke, panicked. “Time, time, time,” Alexandra muttered, reaching for her cell. Thirty minutes until the clinic opened. Damn, she hated cutting it this close. She rushed, brushing teeth while letting the water heat a little more before soaping up her hands to wash her face. Hurried, she spit in her hands. “Damn it!” She washed off the toothpaste and cleaner from her palms before getting more and scrubbing her face.

  After a quick change of clothes, fresh deodorant, and lipstick, she scooped up her cell and purse. Double-checking her keys, she felt Hayden’s card yet again. “Damn it. I hate him. Jerk.” Muttering more adjectives for the man, she slid behind the wheel of her car. The empty space beside her as the garage door raised reminded her that she needed to check Stan and Sheila’s place and had j
ust enough time before work to do so.

  Alexandra hated driving to Stan’s home. He’d not been gone that long, maybe six months, yet the few shrubs grew unruly, trash had blown around the yard, and the oil spot under the pickup grew ever wider. She paused, glancing over the place. Something seemed off and she didn’t have time to really study what it might be. The long shadows of a rising sun were most likely what was different. It’d been a long time since she’d seen the place in this light. Shaking her head at the mess, Alexandra knew she needed to stop, go in, mow the lawn, dust, all that. But when? Her lunch hours?

  She didn’t take them. Midday was the best time for her working patients to see her, and she worked hard not to waste their time then. After work might be better until fall and Daylight savings time. There was only one problem with that though: She’d need to see to mow, and the security light might not be enough to see by. Alexandra sighed, putting the car in gear and hurrying to work. She’d made the impossible happen before now. She could do it again.

  Chapter 2

  Chloe glanced at the open files on Hayden’s computer and desk before she added more to the stacks. “Why are you still looking over that case? The guy is probably on the bus to the pen right now.”

  His assistant had a point. He was wasting his lunch hour on a convicted killer. “Just making sure I’m not missing something.”

  Looking over his shoulder, she scanned the information. “You aren’t. He killed her, simple as that.”

  He looked up from Stan’s mug shot. “Yeah? Tell that to his sister. She’s convinced he’s not guilty.”

  “Alex?” Chloe leaned back. “Of course she doesn’t think he did it. He’s her older brother and all she had when their parents died.”