Free Thrill Kill by Brian Thiem Page A

was one of the nurses who hung out with a group of patrol officers that Sinclair used to work with. The nurses and cops skied together in thewinter, boated and hiked together in the summer, and met at the Warehouse, the local cop bar, most nights after work. After months of being just friends, Sinclair and Alyssa had gone out on a few dates, but their relationship fizzled after that. She didn’t return his calls and stopped associating with the group. Sinclair heard she started dating a doctor. Shortly thereafter, she became engaged and left ACH for a hospital where the patients were cleaner, the workload lighter, and the pay better.
    “You look the same,” he said.
    “I’m hoping my wrinkles deepen so patients stop thinking I’m one of the student nurses or high school volunteers.” She laughed—a real laugh.
    Alyssa’s Mediterranean ancestry showed in her olive complexion, and her hair was such a dark brown it appeared black under certain light. “We should catch up,” Sinclair said.
    “I’d like that,” Alyssa replied.
    Just then, another nurse poked her head into the break room. “We’ve got a trauma coming in. Car accident with two victims.”
    “I have to go.” Alyssa took both of his hands in hers, rose onto her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.
    Sinclair felt his heart racing again.
    “We’ll talk,” she whispered into his ear.
    She hugged Braddock, and Sinclair noted a conspiratorial smile between them as they left the break room.
    Sinclair waited until they were back in their car before he spoke to Braddock. “You set me up.”
    Braddock laughed. “She’s wanted to see you ever since she learned we were partners but wanted it to be a surprise.”
    “To watch me make a fool of myself?”
    Braddock smiled. “It was funny to see you at a loss for words.”
    “I had a wicked crush on her back in the day.”
    “Duh! I’ve known about you two for years. Alyssa was working pediatrics at John Muir when I took Ethan there for an ear infection five or six years ago. We recognized each otherfrom Oakland and became pals. She’s probably my best nonpolice friend. And she had a crush on you, too.”
    “I don’t know what happened. She got scared or something, and the next thing I knew, she married some pretty-boy doctor.”
    “You had that bad-boy thing going full speed back then. She saw you on self-destruct mode and couldn’t stand to watch it. She wanted normal. The intern she married was that.”
    “What happened? There’s no ring on her finger.”
    “Once her husband finished his residency and started making the big bucks, he got into the country club scene and wanted her to quit nursing, have babies, and become a Stepford wife. Last year, she finally decided she couldn’t be that kind of woman and filed for divorce. She got bored with the routine of working a floor at John Muir and came back to ACH last month.”
    “How’s she doing? She looks great.”
    “She loves being back in the ER and is happier than she’s been in years. She ran the San Francisco marathon last summer and teaches Pilates classes at her health club.”
    “You have her number, right?”
    Braddock turned in her seat to face Sinclair. “Like the rest of the world, she knows about your divorce, you and Liz, and your pattern of one-night stands. Alyssa is all goodness, and that’s rare in people who deal with the same slime as we do on a daily basis. Don’t disrespect her by using your Sinclair charm on her while you’re still dating other women. She’s not just another girl for you to screw and run from when it gets too real.”
    Sinclair pulled out of the hospital parking lot. Braddock’s words stung. She knew his game. He wanted to tell her to mind her own business—that Alyssa was a big girl and could take care of herself. But he knew Braddock was right. Alyssa was smart to distance herself from him back then. He wondered if he had actually changed much since.
    He turned onto Fourteenth Avenue, deciding to