Strange Medicine (Dr. Maxwell Thornton Murder Mysteries #1)(47)

“Maxwell, I’d feel better if you just stayed here a while longer.”

I glanced up. “I’m acting like a child who’s afraid of the bogeyman.”

“No. You’re using common sense. That house is at the center of something, and until we know what, you can’t stay there safely. I’d prefer you just bunked with me some more.”

I was tempted. Really, really tempted. “I don’t know.”

Maybe he sensed my weakness because he pressed me harder. “I’d never forgive myself if you went back there and something horrible happened to you. Take pity on me if nothing else.”

As if on his master’s side, Grumpy waddled over to me and jumped up, putting his feet on my knees. I laughed. “What do you want?” I spoke affectionately to the puppy, and he wagged his tail. “Are you sure this is the same puppy that I saw the first day?”

“Yes. It’s a miracle.” Royce grinned.

I smoothed my palm over the dog’s head. “Is that what you expect with me?”

“Come again?”

“Do you think if I stay here long enough, I’ll become as warm and cuddly as Grumpy?”

He gave a sharp laugh. “Hardly. But I’m glad you’re already house-trained.”

“Very funny.” My lips twitched.

“I told you before that I like you. I don’t expect you to go changing your whole personality just because I offered you a place to sleep for a bit.”

I lifted my gaze to his. “I’m not a dog. A few good meals and a pat on the head won’t fix me.”

“You don’t need fixing.” His voice was soft.

“I fear the good people of Rainy Dale would disagree.”

He chuffed. “They aren’t perfect. They have no business judging.”

“Kind of you to say.” I met his gaze hesitantly. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay a few more nights?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Okay, then. Maybe just a couple more days.”

“Good.” He looked genuinely pleased. He filled up his to-go mug with coffee and faced me. “After you.”

We left the kitchen, and Royce put the kid gate in place. Then we made our way outside to the car. I’d given up arguing about him dropping me off at work each morning. He seemed to want to, and it was nicer riding in his car than walking. Even the mornings were hotter than hell here in Rainy Dale during the summer, and I hated arriving at work sweaty.

We pulled out onto the main road. “Have you had any luck tracking down Rocky?” I asked.

“No, and unfortunately, his was the only print on the sledgehammer.”

“How would it get there? If he lives in Arizona?”

“I’m not sure yet. If Rocky hadn’t disappeared off the face of the earth, maybe I’d be more inclined to think his print on the sledgehammer isn’t related to Ned or any of the break-ins at your place. But his complete lack of a physical trail seems suspicious.”

“Agreed.”

“I need to figure out who this John Smith is who rented that space. Then I need to find out what he meant when he warned Ned about other people descending. Ned was doing something that got him murdered.”

Royce parked in front of my clinic, and I got out. “See you tonight,” I said.

“You bet.” He did his usual U-turn and headed toward town.

I walked into the clinic and found four people already in the waiting room. I didn’t make eye contact because people had a way of trying to start a conversation before their appointment. Girdy was on the phone, but she smiled when she saw me. She put her hand over the receiver. “Mrs. Lindon is first.”

I nodded and went into my office. Once I had things ready, I opened the door and called Mrs. Lindon in. She was about eighty and very hard of hearing. She was in excellent health for her age, and she got around well. It was merely the fact that she could only hear about every other word that drove me nuts.

“Morning, Doc.” She strode over to the chair near the desk.

“How can I help you today?” I settled across from her, folding my hands on the desk.

She nodded. “Yes, yes, I know I have a co-pay. No need to nag me.”

I grimaced. “No, no. I said—never mind.” I scanned the notes Girdy had left on my desk for each patient. “So your hip is hurting?”

“Yes.” She pressed her hand to her body. “It usually only acts up in the winter.”

“Hmm. Have you had an X-ray? Perhaps it’s arthritis.”

“Oh, I don’t ride horses anymore.” She cackled. “No. No. My hip hurts when I walk.”

I sighed. “Did Dr. Pine check you for ar-th-ri-tis?” I spoke as slowly as possible.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Okay, good.” I hoped we were talking about the same thing. “Did he give you any medicines like anti-inflammatory type things?”

“I rarely wear jeans.”

“No.” I grimaced. “Do you take things for the pain?”

“I wear my copper bracelet.” She held out her scrawny arm, showing me a metal cuff on her wrist. “It works wonders.”

“Then why are you here?” I frowned.

She squinted at me. “Are you hard of hearing? My hip hurts.” She spoke loudly, enunciating each word.