Free Close Encounters by Sandra Kitt Page A

happened for a reason.
    Her father had suggested that God had other plans for her. But during the past few days Carol had begun thinking that maybe she had been given a second chance to make some new plans of her own.
    Lee hesitated outside the door. At first he imagined the worst, but there could be lots of reasons why Carol Taggart was not in her room. Maybe she’d been moved somewhere else. Maybe she’d already gone home.
    Lee suddenly realized that he was feeling ambivalent about the possibility that Carol was gone and he might not ever see her again. For him, she had ceased to be an anonymous black woman who’d been accidentally shot in a street altercation between known criminals and the police. It was impossible to go back to not knowing her.
    Despite what had happened, there was still one single overriding consideration. And one thing he knew for sure—he wanted to see Carol Taggart again.
    Several times Lee had considered calling Dr. Amos. Which was certainly an about-face from the first time, when he hadn’t felt the need to speak with the psychologist at all. Lee didn’t know if Dr. Amos could explain the terrible pressing sensation in the middle of his chest that at times threatened to suffocate him. Was it the weight of guilt? The fear of damnation?
    Lee was also conflicted about the internal triage being conducted by the department in an attempt to avoid accepting responsibility. The whole business made him uneasy. The department might not deliberately set out to distort the case, but he’d seen it happen. Twice in his career he had indirectly participated in what amounted to cover-ups. The difference was that no one’s life had hung in the balance, on a truth or a lie. And the results had seemed to justify the means so he hadn’t lost any sleep over it.
    But this time was different.
    This time he realized that what eventually happened would matter. To him as a police officer. And as a man.
    Lee was about to pass the visitors lounge when he glimpsed Carol Taggart sitting in a chair by the window.
    He stood stock-still in the corridor and watched her. For the first time he was seeing her not as a shooting victim or as a hospital patient but as a woman. She was very attractive, her skin the color of brown sugar, her body slender, her carriage regal—even dressed in a robe and slippers.
    She appeared to be sketching in a spiral pad, her head tilted in concentration, her thick hair making a soft cloud around her face. Lee told himself that he could still walk away. But he didn’t.
    He entered the room. An older woman sat in a corner, staring at the TV. Lee crossed to Carol. It wasn’t until he was standing right next to her that she became aware of his presence.
    She looked up, distracted. Her gaze cleared immediately upon recognition. And she slowly smiled.
    Lee found that he couldn’t return the greeting. If he did, he might completely lose the emotional distance between them. Neither of them said anything for several seconds, but it was enough for an unspoken shift to occur in their relationship.
    Lee could see that she was examining him again, taking in everything about him. This time he wasn’t uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
    Carol’s surprise was tempered by the sensation that she was seeing Lee Grafton for the very first time, even though he was not an absolute stranger. She was noticing things about him she hadn’t seen before. He was a tall man, casually dressed. He seemed fit and athletic without looking pumped and self-conscious. Years of experience were evident in the angles and lines of his face. His dark eyes were knowing and alert. His hair, brown with gray sprinkled throughout, was cropped very short. She liked it. It was masculine. Natural. Carol found herself facing someone who presented himself as simply a man, not a cop. So why had he come to see her again?
    “Another unofficial visit?” she questioned with a lift of her brows.
    “Do you mind?”
    Her expression was