Strange Medicine (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #1)(10)
“That stuff is loaded with sodium. You’re a doctor. You should know that.”
“I buy the healthy, low-sodium, low-fat version.”
“Ahhh.” She grinned. “The one that taste like dirty sock water.”
My lips twitched. “Yummy.”
She shook her head. “Oh, boy. Well, I’m heading home. You enjoy your soup.” She left, closing the door behind her.
The building fell silent with just the tick of a clock somewhere on a shelf. I inhaled and exhaled, trying to push the tension from my body. I hung my lab coat on a hook inside the door of my office and made my way to the kitchen. I opened a can of soup and heated it on the stove. I also cracked open a bottle of beer while I was at it. I deserved a treat. Today had been hell.
Once the soup bubbled, I took the pan to the table along with a spoon. I ate out of the pot so that I didn’t have to wash another dish. I rested my feet on a chair and finished the soup; then with the cool tang of my beer on my tongue, I closed my eyes.
Performing surgery for eight hours straight hadn’t been as exhausting as having to simply talk to people all day. People loved to yammer on about things that had nothing to do with why they were at my office. I’d learned more about Mrs. Gladstone’s marriage and her rebellious teenage granddaughter than I had about her arthritis. The relentless social interaction had been draining. My feet and my back ached, and even my throat was tender from talking so much.
I peered out the kitchen window to the pool. It looked so tempting. It was still hot as hell even though it was nine o’clock in the evening. The temperature didn’t seem to drop at night like I was used to in LA. I stood and walked out onto the back patio. I turned off the kitchen and porch lights. The pool light was still on, and around in the bushes, someone had strung tiny white lights. I assumed it was Mr. and Mrs. Pine who’d gone to that bother, maybe trying to make this home office more home than office.
I wasn’t a big drinker, and the beer had me a little buzzed. I’d drunk most of it before my soup was ready, and my stomach had been empty. I pulled off my tie and unbuttoned my shirt, laying them neatly over the lounge chair nearest the house. Then I glanced around, feeling self-conscious. I didn’t have any immediate neighbors, and my house was very private with large oak and ash trees surrounding the lot.
My body was overheated, and the cool water called to me. Putting aside my natural inhibitions, I unzipped my pants and stepped out of them and my underwear. Then without wasting any time, I hurried to the pool and dove in. The refreshing water had my naked body buzzing with energy in a matter of minutes. I swam a few laps and floated on the water, bobbing up and down as I stared up at the velvety black night.
I stayed like that for at least forty-five minutes, just floating in silence, barely moving a muscle. Off in the distance, I heard a pack of coyotes yipping as if they’d cornered something. Even in LA, sometimes up in the hills I’d heard coyotes. But something about being in the middle of nowhere made them seem more sinister than when I’d been surrounded by other houses and people.
When a flicker of movement near the house caught my eye, my heart began to beat like a drum. My brain struggled to assimilate what I’d seen—a man. The shape and movement had been distinctly human. I tried not to panic, but I could think of no logical reason why anyone would be slinking around the outside of my house this time of night.
I was sure whoever it was had no idea I was still in the pool. Trying not to splash or make any noise, I craned my neck and searched the shadows. I now regretted shutting off the porch light. Maybe having it on would have discouraged whoever it was from creeping about. My eyes burned as I tried to pierce the black cover of night.
I almost had myself convinced it was my imagination, when there was a loud snap of a branch. It was the unmistakable sound of a foot pressing down on dry wood. My heart started pounding all over again as I wrestled with what to do. Should I make my presence known? Pretend I wasn’t here? I also had the added complication of being naked. I didn’t relish the idea of lunging naked from the pool to confront an intruder.
Still not moving, I became aware of a dull thud hitting the earth. I listened, trying to figure out what I was hearing. After a few minutes, I realized someone was digging. I frowned and concentrated on floating slowly to the edge of the pool where I would be harder to spot. Ever so carefully, I touched the bottom of the pool with my feet. Peeking over the side, I saw movement toward the back corner of the house.
Confused, I squinted toward the intruder. What the hell were they doing? Who sneaked into another person’s yard and started digging at ten o’clock at night? Certainly no one sane. The person stood straighter, pressing their back as if in pain, and I ducked my head. When I heard the soft thud of their shovel again, I felt it was safe to watch some more.
I wanted to somehow get to my cell that was in my pants pocket and call the police. But I knew the night was so quiet the intruder would definitely hear me climbing from the pool, no matter how quiet I was. I stayed where I was, as my fingers and toes became waterlogged and wrinkled. The intruder would occasionally move down a few feet and start digging in a different location.
After what felt like an eternity, the person straightened and looked around. I tried to study their shape, hoping I would somehow recognize them. But the shadows cloaked them just enough that I couldn’t make out any details. I knew they were tall and thin, and that was about it. They crept off into the dark, heading away from my house, and I breathed a sigh of relief.