LITMIR.BIZ

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depends on her progress and the test results, but likely within the next several hours. It will be good for her to hear a familiar voice—unless there’s some reason why seeing you would upset her. There isn’t, is there?”

      “No.”

      “Then I’ll let you know when you can see her.”

      Durk reconsidered his answer to that last question as he walked away. He and Meghan hadn’t parted on the best of terms. Not that she’d made a scene. Meghan Sinclair was not one to lose control. But she’d clearly dumped him.

      That had been two years ago. When he’d recommended her professional services to his brother Tague just months ago she’d accepted and done a bang-up job.

      She’d moved on. For all he knew, she was in a serious romantic relationship. The thought bothered him, though it shouldn’t. He’d bow out quickly enough if he found out that was true.

      It wouldn’t change the fact that he planned to make damn sure that whoever did this to Meghan would not get off scot-free.

      But the first order of business was contacting Ben Conroe. He searched for a quiet space. When he found none, he walked outside and into the gathering twilight. The siren of an incoming ambulance punctuated the brisk air as he called Meghan’s office.

      He got a busy signal instead of the answering machine, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, that meant Ben was still at work. The office was on the second floor of a three-story office building across the street from a strip mall only a few blocks away.

      Durk jogged to his truck and a few seconds later was heading out of the parking lot. He dialed the number again as he sped toward her office. The line remained busy.

      He glanced at his watch as he parked in the mostly empty lot. It was ten before six. He entered and raced up the stairs to the second floor. He tapped on the closed door to her office. When no one answered, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

      Ben was there, but he was not on the phone. He wouldn’t be talking—not now and not ever again. A bullet had apparently ripped through his brain.

      Durk went into defensive mode instantly, reaching for the pistol that lay near Ben’s body, listening and looking for any sign the killer was still on the premises.

      The office remained as quiet as death.

      Feeling a bit more confident that he was alone, Durk stepped closer to the body. Ben’s eyes were open, staring and lifeless. Durk stooped and checked Ben’s pulse, knowing there wouldn’t be one. The body was still warm. He’d missed the killer by mere minutes.

      Reality burned in the pit of his stomach as he tried to assess the situation with some degree of clarity. Ben was dead. And whoever had killed him had probably planned the same fate for Meghan. Something had apparently stopped him before he could finish the job on her—possibly the neighbor who’d called the ambulance.

      Fury and determination strained every muscle as Durk took out his phone and dialed 911. He gave the operator the information. She asked a few questions, assured him the cops were on their way and warned him not to touch anything before they arrived.

      A little late for that since he was likely already holding the murder weapon. Survival topped crime scene protocol any day. Too bad he hadn’t thought to grab his own pistol from the car, but then he hadn’t expected to crash a murder scene.

      He let his gaze roam the small outer office. File cabinet drawers were open, loose papers strewn about the floor and across what had been Ben’s desk.

      Gun still in hand, he crossed the room and, using the tips of his fingers to hopefully keep from destroying possible fingerprints, he cautiously turned the knob and opened the door to Meghan’s office. The usually neat space was a total wreck.

      Whatever the murderous bastard had wanted, Durk assumed he’d found it. Otherwise, he’d have still been here when Durk showed up.

      When the cops arrived, they’d take over. From that point on, everything in the office would be in their possession and Durk would be the outsider—or possibly even a suspect since his prints would be all over the Smith & Wesson still clutched in his right hand.

      He’d deal with the suspicions, but the idea of losing control disturbed him to the max. The least he could do was locate the insurance information for the doctor so that they could check for a history of allergies.

      He made his way to the ravaged file cabinet, stepping over scattered files and loose papers as best he could. Before he could locate the insurance file, the office phone rang. Durk answered quickly.

      “Hello,” the female voice responded. “Is Meghan around?”

      “May I ask who’s calling?”

      “Lucy. Who is this?”

      Durk’s mouth went dry. Exactly who he needed to talk to, but he hated the news he had to deliver. “I’m a friend of Meghan’s,” he explained, working to keep his voice steady. “I’m afraid I have bad news, Lucy. There’s been an incident.”

      “What kind of incident?”

      “Meghan was attacked in her apartment this afternoon. She’s in the hospital.”

      He heard the gasp and then the tremble in the voice. “Oh, no. How bad is she hurt?”

      “They’re running tests now to determine the seriousness of her condition.”

      “What hospital? I want to talk to her.”

      “Grantland, but she can’t talk just yet. Her doctor is eager to hear from you, though. He needs to know if Meghan has any drug allergies that he should be aware of.”

      “Where’s Ben? Is he with Meghan?”

      Durk considered his answer. He hated to throw even more at Lucy when he knew so few facts. “Ben’s not available, but I’ll be with Meghan until she’s out of danger.”

      “Who are you?”

      “Durk Lambert. We’ve never met, but I’m a friend of Meghan’s.”

      “Yes. I know who you are.” Her tone told him she’d not only heard of him, but that he had at least two strikes against him in her book.

      “How are you involved in this?” she demanded.

      “By chance. I was at the emergency room checking on my aunt when Meghan was brought in. And it doesn’t really matter what you think of me right now, Lucy. The only thing that matters is Meghan, and I promise you that I will see that she has the best of care. Right now you need to call Dr. Levy. Do you have a pen or pencil handy?”

      “Wait.”

      He could hear her muffled voice talking to someone else. Thankfully, she wasn’t alone. A few seconds later a male voice addressed him. “This is Johnny Delmar, Lucy’s husband. Give me the doctor’s phone number.”

      Durk did and then gave Johnny his number, as well. “I’d like permission to hire a private nurse around the clock if that seems warranted.”

      “I don’t see any problems with that,” Johnny said. “Except I’m sure Ben Conroe will see that Meghan has whatever she needs.”

      “That won’t be possible.”

      “Why not? Doesn’t Ben still work for Meghan?”

      Durk hesitated, hating to get into a drawn-out explanation when the cops would arrive any second. But better that Johnny be there when Lucy heard about the murder. “You may as well know now as later. Ben’s dead. He was shot in the head.”

      A few seconds of silence followed that pronouncement. “Were Ben and Meghan together?”

      “No.”

      “What the hell is going on down there in Dallas?”

      “I’ve told you all I know. I’m expecting

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