Free Midnight Rain: A Detective Jack Dunning Novel by Arlette Lees

the seat of his cab and throwing the passenger door open. She slumps against the outer wall of the bank building and slides to the sidewalk.
    Tom jumps from the cab at a sprint. He helps her up and she leans into his side.
    “I feel awful,” she says. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Tom.”
    “Come on, I’ll get you home.” He puts her in the cab and climbs behind the wheel. “You’re burning up,” he says, touching her forehead with the back of his hand.
    “I’m cold, very cold,” she says, with a convulsive shudder.
    The Auburn makes a u-turn in traffic and slows down when it passes the driver’s side of the cab. The men’s eyes lock before the yellow car moves on down Cork.
    “It’s that same man again,” says Tom. “What’s with this guy?”
    Angel whispers a few unintelligible words.
    “Dr. McBane is in with Roland,” he says. “We’ll catch him before he leaves.”
    Angel can’t hear him. She’s fallen unconscious against the passenger side door.
    When Tom carries Angel into the lobby, Hank buzzes Roland Barker’s room and within seconds McBane is downstairs with his black bag. Tom follows him into the elevator with Angel limp in his arms.
    “What’s wrong with her, Doc?” he says, lying her on the bed in room 210.
    “Get out of here so I can do my job.”
    Tom gives him an imploring look. “Please, let me stay.”
    “Out. Now.”
    Tom stands beneath the clock at the reception desk not certain what to do next.
    “What in god’s name happened?” asks Hank.
    “She was walking down the sidewalk with a roaring fever. I’m not sure she knew where she was.”
    “I never saw her leave the building. I thought she was still in her room.” Hank turns back to his ledger.
    “She’s a sweet girl, don’t you think? She’s nice to everybody.”
    “Yes she is,” says Hank.
    “I asked Jack if I could take her to the movies, but you know how dads are about their daughters. Maybe, you could put in a good word for me.” Hank looks at Tom over his glasses and puts down his pencil.
    “O-o-h boy,” he says.
    “What?” says Tom.
    “Forget about Angel.”
    “Why would I do that? I have honorable intentions.”
    “Tom, listen to me. Jack is not her father.”
    Silence. The wheels turn.
    “I get it. He’s Dunning and she’s Dahl. Jack is her stepdad.”
    “No, you don’t get it.” Finally there’s a flash of understanding in Tom’s eyes.
    “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    “Just let it be.”
    “But, Hank, she’s only a kid and he’s…”
    “They’re together, Tom. They’ve been together a long time.”
    “A long time! She hasn’t been on this earth a long time. What is she, sixteen, seventeen and he’ what…?”
    “Don’t start with the counting, Tom. If there’s one person you don’t want to tangle with, it’s Jack Dunning.”
    * * * *
    Joe doesn’t remember dreaming in color before. In fact, he hasn’t had dreams of this nature since he was a teenager. Then again, it isn’t every day a lively young creature like Miss Montoya wants to teach him how to tango. Although she isn’t his type, there are times a woman like that is every man’s type, whether he admits it or not.
    He liberates himself from the tangled sheets and walks to the window. Although it rained vigorously during the night, the giant storm everyone’s been bracing for never arrived. He didn’t bother with the shutters and there’s still a pile of sand and two hundred burlap bags waiting at the side of the house to be filled.
    He walks down the hall toward the stairs and looks into Mildred’s room. Chita was right. No woman wants to share a man with the ghost of wives past. He needs to call Stan at the second hand store and begin packing her thing up. After that he’ll decide about the ashes.
    Joe changes Pumpkin’s litter box, puts down food and clean water and gets ready for work. Saturday is a busy day at the bakery. When he walks to his car, Happy Hooker Towing is pulling