Free Sighs Matter by Marianne Stillings Page A

the car door swung open. “Yes,” she said, feeling a little confused. “He’s a colleague of sorts. An orthopedic surgeon. His name’s Adam Thursby.” But what was he doing here?
    Without turning, Taylor said, “Your boyfriend?”
    “No.” She should say yes, just to see the look on his face, but it wouldn’t be fair to use Adam like that.
    “Don’t tell him I’m a police officer,” he ordered in a low voice.
    “I understand,” she agreed, setting a smile of greeting on her face for Adam as he crossed the yard and approached the porch.
    Adam Thursby was tall, toned, tanned. He appeared to be forty-something, had an athletic build and sun-streaked brown hair. He wore expensive dark glasses and a blue silk suit that made him look like a fashion model. As he stepped up onto the porch, he whipped off the glasses and sent her a brilliant smile—which faded considerably when he shifted his gaze to Taylor.
    “Hello, Adam,” she said, moving around Taylor to greet him. Halting in front of her, Adam slipped his arms around her waist and tugged her close. Her breath caught and she automatically put her palms on his chest to keep him at a distance.
    “Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured, giving her clothing the once-over. “Hey, you’re not ready. You haven’t forgotten about our date, have you?”
    Taylor sized up Adam Thursby. So this was the competition, huh? Well, if Claire liked a guy who looked liked Plastic Surgeon Ken—emphasis on the plastic —she need look no further.
    As she introduced them, Thursby granted Taylor a smile. His teeth were so white and straight, he looked like a baleen whale sucking in krill.
    Thursby released Claire and offered his hand.
    Taylor shook it. Hard.
    The two men smiled coolly at each other.
    Thursby might look like the Used Car Salesman to the Stars, Taylor thought, but he had one hell of a grip.
    “How do you know Claire?” Thursby said to Taylor. The question was innocent enough, but he heard the underlying message loud and clear.
    Before Taylor could answer, Claire interrupted.
    “Not that it’s not nice to see you, Adam,” she said with a rather iffy smile. “But what are you doing here? I’m sure I mentioned that I was going to be in Seattle this weekend.”
    Dr. Dingledick’s face crumpled in disappointment. “Did I screw up? I thought you meant next weekend. Well, as long as I’m here, let’s have dinner anyway, okay?”
    “Oh, Adam,” she said. “I’m so sorry you’ve gone to all this trouble, but the truth is—”
    “Not a problem,” he said magnanimously. With his hand at the small of her back, he guided her toward the kitchen door. “I can wait while you change. I promise it will be worth your while.”
    Taylor moved to intercept them, but Claire put her hand on Thursby’s arm, stopping him as he reached for the screen door.
    “There’s been an accident, Adam. This isn’t a good time.” Was it Taylor’s imagination, or did Claire look shellshocked by this guy?
    “Accident?” A frown created no creases on Thursby’s forehead. “Are you all right? What kind of accident? When?”
    She slid her hands into her jeans pockets and briefly explained the situation. “And since Taylor lives in Seattle, he was kind enough to give me a ride back to Port Henry.”
    “Good God,” Thursby said, placing his palms on her shoulders. “So that’s how you got that contusion above the right orbital ridge. Are you sure you’re all right, sweetheart?”
    Sweetheart . Taylor’s brain bent a little around that one. Did Dr. Bedpan always call her sweetheart, or was it simply for Taylor’s benefit?
    Claire’s cheeks tinged pink as she smiled up at Thursby. “I’m okay . . . Adam,” she said as she gently pushed the man’s hands from her shoulders.
    “I’d still like to take you out. It might help you to relax.”
    “Actually, I’m pretty tired. All the excitement. Listen, I haven’t checked my voice mail since this morning. Why don’t you and I