Free The Sapphire Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy Book 2) by Katherine Lowry Logan Page A

and lean with close-cropped brown hair, and the other was a broad-shouldered blond with a grouchy face. She disliked them both on sight.
    “Doctor Mallory?” thin man asked, approaching Ken.
    “ I’m Doctor Mallory.” Charlotte glared at the man with an exasperated shake of her head. She was exhausted and not in the mood to be interviewed, but she knew from personal experience that if she ignored the police, they could be more problematic than the press. She would stick to the truth as much as possible.
    The grouchy looking officer said, “We’d like to ask you a few questions about the man you brought in earlier.”
    “Have you learned anything about him?” she asked, hoping to deflect some of the attention from her.
    “We were hoping you could tell us,” thin man said.
    “When we finished late this afternoon, I got in my car to go back to Richmond but decided to close my eyes for a few minutes before making the drive. The next thing I knew it was three hours later. I didn’t realize I was so tired. Glad I didn’t try to drive.”
    Heat crept up her neck as a ripple of tension went through her. Lying made her uncomfortable. She would not pass a polygraph test today. “Anyway,” she continued, “I pulled out of my parking space and spotted someone lying on a bed. I jumped out of the car, and approached cautiously. I asked his name. He was still alert enough to answer ‘Major McCabe’. I saw his abdomen and realized he’d been shot. I called 911.”
    The tall officer made notes. Grouchy just glared. If they were trying to intimidate her, good luck. She had been trained by surgical professors who had perfected the art of intimidation.
    Thin man flipped a page in his notebook. “Have you ever seen him before?”
    She shook her head. “He’s a pretty good-looking guy. I would have noticed him.”
    “He told you his name was Major McCabe,” thin man said. “Is that his rank or first name?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
    Thin man wrote in his notebook. “Why’d you call Doctor Thomas? The ER docs could have handled the case.”
    “No, the ER docs would have had to call a surgeon. Dr. Thomas is the best. He’s my friend, and I thought he’d find it an interesting case. Besides, he would have been pissed if he had missed this one.”
    Thin man tapped his pen against the notebook. “Is that right, Doctor Thomas?”
    Ken gave her a wry grin. “That I’m the best? Yes.”
    “Did you see anyone else? There was a chair next to the bed as if someone had been sitting with him,” Grouchy said.
    Charlotte shook her head. “No.”
    “The bed and chair looked old. Very old. Have you seen them before?”
    Charlotte gave him a what-the-fuck look. “Are you saying I’m old like the furniture?”
    He had the decency to blush. “No ma’am. I meant that the bed and chair looked similar to ones I’ve seen in Civil War books. You’re a Civil War reenactor. I thought you might have seen the furniture in someone’s tent during the weekend’s events. That’s all.”
    “What happened to the rest of his clothes?” thin man asked.
    “You’ll have to ask him.”
    Grouchy shifted his squeaky, leather duty belt. The clatter from his attached equipment sounded like a Roman Army on the march. “We’d like to talk to him as soon as he wakes up.”
    “Fine. Check back tomorrow,” she said. She wanted to tell him to put a little saddle soap on his Sam Browne to keep it from squeaking, but decided it would be wise to keep her mouth shut.
    Thin man put his notepad in his pocket. “If you think of anything that might give us a lead on him, please let us know. We’ll give you a call if we have any more questions. Are you going to be working at your office in Richmond tomorrow?”
    “Yes,” she said, smiling. “Call me there if you have any questions.”
    The officers caught the next elevator off the surgical floor, and Charlotte let out a relieved breath when the door closed behind them.
    Ken eyed her