Free To Catch Her Death (The Grim Reality Series Book 1) by Boone Brux Page B

tapped the bell. A feminine voice answered from somewhere beyond my sight. “I’ll be with you in a second.”
    So far so good. At least the nurse or receptionist was a woman. Another minute passed and the doctor finally appeared. She was around fifty and had black hair with two thick streaks of white racing down each side, as if they’d been painted on.
    “Hi, I’m Dr. Jensen, but call me Candace.” She held open the door with her hip and extended her hand. “You must be Lisa.”
    “That’s me, the new recruit.” I gave her hand a quick shake, relief washing through me. I didn’t know how far up into my sweet junk she was going to get, but I felt much more comfortable discussing my girl problems with a female doctor. “Nice to meet you.”
    “Come on back.” She led me to the first room on the right and pulled a file from the pocket next to the door. “I’ll need to get some history before we start the exam.”
    “Great.” I sat in a plum colored chair that was incredibly comfortable and would look fantastic in my living room. She took her place at a small writing desk. “Doesn’t a nurse usually do this part of the exam?”
    “I’m the doctor, nurse, receptionist, and sometimes janitor.” She looked up from the file and smiled. “Besides new recruits and the annual medical exam on the employees, I don’t see a lot of action here.” She shrugged. “I used to be an ER doctor in Detroit. I loved it for a while but the constant crisis tends to take its toll. Here there’s rarely any drama and a lot of my day is free to work on other projects.”
    “Sounds like a dream job. I’d like getting paid big bucks and having everybody basically leave me alone.”
    “That surprises me. Most reapers like to be in the thick of things.”
    I held out my arms to the side. “Do I look like your typical reaper? I have three kids, one of them being a teenage girl. The most excitement I’ve had over the past year was the convenience store robbery that landed me here.”
    “Yes, I heard about that.” Thick black lashes framed her dark blue eyes. “I think you’re the first recruit I’ve had that accidentally became a reaper.”
    I sighed. “Once you get to know me you’ll see how fitting my initiation was.”
    She laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be a great reaper.”
    I harrumphed. “You’re either being incredibly diplomatic or gullible.”
    “Between you and me I think the reapers could use a little more estrogen on their team.” She tucked a hank of thick hair behind her ear and looked at the chart. “It seems to me reaping should be handled with finesse and compassion instead of acting as if they’re tossing a log on the fire.”
    “Oh, you’ve met Nate then?”
    She laughed again and nodded, but made no further comment on the subject. “So, first question. Are you pregnant or is there a possibility of being pregnant?”
    Several answers popped into my head but I refrained from saying them. “No.”
    “Do you have any old injuries that are giving you problems or periodically act up?”
    “Well, I sprained my ankle in a horrible gardening accident last year.”
    She looked up, her brows lifted. “A horrible gardening accident?”
    “I was talking on the phone and carrying a potted tomato plant out my front door when I tripped and fell.” It had been awful and humiliating. Repeating the sordid details again dredged up what a Mrs. Magoo I could be. “I landed on the pot, tossed the phone over the side of the patio, and buggered up my ankle.” Perhaps it was from the painfully embarrassing memories, but my ankle began to throb. “It aches when the weather changes or if I walk on uneven ground for a long time—or talk about it.”
    “Did the tomato make it?” she asked, scribbling a few notes down.
    “Nope, but it was a lost cause to begin with. My plants always die.” It was true, I’d yet to own a plant I was able to nurture and get to flourish.
    Continuing to write, she said.