A Family at Last

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To Karen, Chris said, “Let me know when you make the appointment. I’ll clear the time.” To Davy, he added, “No excuses. If you claim you’re sick, I’m coming to give you shots. And I’ll make sure they hurt more than the dentist’s drill.”

To her amazement, Davy burst into laughter. “You’re a smart-aleck. I like that,” he said. “I’ve got a son must be about your age. No, I guess he’s older. Well, okay, doc, I’ll go.”

Karen waited until they’d taken their leave and she’d escorted Chris out the side door onto the patio—empty on this breezy afternoon—to express her concern.

“I can’t believe you intend to keep that promise you made Davy. He certainly isn’t a regular patient of yours,” she said, warming to her subject. “You may think you’re doing him a favor to trick him into going to the dentist, but my staff will have to deal with his outrage when he finds out you didn’t mean it.”

Chris stood there blinking in the sunlight. “Why are you doing this?”

His baffled tone gave Karen pause. She’d expected him to defend his position. “Doing what?”

“Assuming the worst about me.” A pucker formed between his eyebrows. “I keep my promises.”

That possibility hadn’t occurred to her. Because Chris had turned against his best friend, she’d figured he betrayed everyone’s trust.

“Karen,” Chris went on, “when I say something, I mean it.” At this angle, his body sheltered her from the wind. “Listen, there’s something else I need to discuss with you.”

She looked at him unexpectedly and got an uncomfortable feeling.

“It’s about Barry,” he said.

Karen bristled. “Believe me, I’ve heard plenty of criticism about his attitude, if that’s what you mean.”

“I said I wanted to discuss something that concerns him. That doesn’t mean I intend to criticize him.”

Once again, he had her at the disadvantage. Or rather, she’d put herself there by jumping to conclusions. “Sorry, I was wrong,” she conceded as graciously as she could. “Go on.”

A puff of wind pulled at his coat. “After I ran into you two at the park, I decided to go to the police department and read the original reports.”

“You had no business doing that!” His snooping annoyed Karen. “You know what happened.”

“As it turned out, I didn’t.”

Was he going to try to frame Barry all over again? Realizing she’d jumped the gun several times before, she bit back the accusation. “Why not? You were there.”

“I only knew what I personally observed. At the trial, the attorneys wouldn’t let me be in the courtroom except when I was on the stand—they didn’t want my testimony compromised,” Chris explained. “I figured Barry whacked Mr. Anglin a couple of extra times and didn’t realize it. Now I know that’s not the way it happened.”

“What did happen, in your opinion?” Karen stood riveted, unsure where this was leading. It had never occurred to her to study those reports herself.

“I saw Barry lash out once in self-defense. Whoever killed Norbert Anglin deliberately crushed his skull while he was lying on the ground helpless,” Chris said.

“And what do you make of that?” She heard a tremor in her voice. She wanted urgently to believe he was on their side, yet at the same time, she mistrusted him utterly.

“Someone else killed Mr. Anglin.”

He’d actually said it. Barry was innocent. But while her father had believed there was an opportunistic killer, the police had adamantly rejected the possibility. “Who? Any ideas?”

“Not really,” Chris conceded. “One thing’s for sure—I didn’t lie on the stand, Karen, and I don’t believe Barry did, either. I’m sorry he’s wasted so much time holding me to blame. I think it may have blinded him to other possibilities.”

Of course there’d been the two witnesses, but the police had ruled them out. Fifteen years ago, her family had been torn apart—her brother sent to prison, her father dying of a heart attack from the stress. In all this time, no one but the Lowells had ever doubted that justice had been served.

The last person in the world she’d expected to hear it from was Chris.

“Why didn’t you say something at the trial?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you insist another person must have done it?”

“As I said, I didn’t have the whole picture.” The breeze rattled the patio furniture. “Besides, I trusted the system. I figured the prosecutor and the cops knew what they were doing.”

A note of warning sounded in the back of her mind. Was he really in earnest? Or was he seeking to enlist her aid in silencing Barry’s accusations against him?

“What’s your next step?” Karen asked cautiously.

“We should work together,” Chris answered. “You, me and, I hope, Barry.”

She shivered at the idea of approaching her brother with this concept. “Tell the police. They won’t believe Barry, but they might listen to you.”

“I talked to Ben after I read the reports, but he insists on waiting until Ethan returns. He doesn’t see any urgency.”

“Do you?”

Chris ducked his head. “It kills me to think Barry went to prison on my testimony. Now the bitterness is destroying his life.”

“He has a right to be angry,” she declared. “Going to prison killed his dreams. I don’t know if he’ll ever have a shot at being a foreign correspondent.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time.” Chris jammed his hands into his pockets. “Let’s build a case so strong the police will have to accept it.”

“Barry won’t work with you.” The anger and blame ran too deep. “You’ll need to do this on your own.”

“I haven’t got a clue where to start.” He sounded disappointed. “Besides, there’s no use my duplicating research Barry’s already done. We’ll be much more effective together.”

Together, like the old days. A longing for what used to be wrapped around Karen like a blanket. To be friends with Chris again…allies…to wake up in the morning the way she once had, eager for the day to begin because she was almost certain to run into him.

But she could never again be that innocent girl, that teenager who’d given her heart away without a second thought. Not because she cared nothing for Chris but because she cared too much.

Useless to hope. Too much pain and suspicion separated them. Too much harsh experience. Too much loss.

Still, he was the first person outside her family to admit to the possibility of clearing Barry. Even though it might be a trick, she couldn’t dismiss it out of hand.

When the first drops of rain touched her face, Karen retreated into the doorway. “I’ll tell Barry what you suggest. It’s up to him.”

“I appreciate the effort.” He stood studying her as if unaware that he was getting wet.

“You never did have the sense to get out of the rain,” Karen managed to joke. “Go back to work, Chris.”

“Don’t let Barry boss you around,” he advised. “He may be your big brother but you can stand up to him. For his sake, please try.”

She ached to touch Chris’s cheek. To feel the heart beating beneath that coat. To slip her arms around him.

Not now. Not ever.

“I’ll do my best,” Karen promised, and went inside.

Chapter Five

“Usually, having twins means double your fun,” Leah Rankin told Chris as he peered into her stepdaughter’s ear. “Unfortunately, sometimes it means double your problems.”

“She’s definitely infected.” Six-year-old India’s ear showed the same degree of inflammation as her sister Diane’s. “It’s what we call acute otitis media.”

Chris had returned to the clinic from the nursing home, loping through an increasing downpour, to find the two little girls and their stepmother waiting for him. Although he’d scheduled no appointments this afternoon so he could spend as much time as necessary with the senior citizens, he’d dried himself off quickly and set to work. He was always happy to treat any youngster with an infection. That went double—literally and figuratively—for the children of Dr. Will Rankin.

Leah, a striking brunette, had brought the girls after school, where they attended her first-grade class. Although her baby, due in April, had grown so large that standing all day must have been quite uncomfortable, she glowed with health. She’d mentioned earlier that she’d be taking maternity leave from her teaching position beginning the following week.

“They need a course of penicillin, right?” Leah asked.

“Current guidelines discourage prescribing antibiotics in a situation like this.” As he distributed sugar-free suckers to the girls, Chris explained, “I know it used to be standard practice, but eighty percent of children get better without them. Overprescribing antibiotics may cause them to develop resistance.”

This time, it wasn’t the parent who objected but the child. “My ear hurts!” Diane declared. “I want medicine!”

He addressed her with the same respect he would show an adult. “Antibiotics won’t help the discomfort during the first twenty-four hours. I’m going to recommend acetaminophen—Tylenol. That should reduce the pain.”

“Me, too?” asked India.

“Absolutely.” He turned his attention to Leah. “If their symptoms don’t improve in three days, I’ll prescribe an antibiotic called amoxicillin. You’ve probably heard of it.”

“About a million times.” She wrinkled her nose. “Hey, I’m a teacher.”

First graders were among a pediatrician’s most frequent visitors. “You’ve probably picked up a few bugs from those kids yourself over the years,” he added sympathetically.

“I’ve had my share. Fortunately, this year I’ve stayed healthy.” She patted her bulge. “I’ve got to keep him safe.”

“Can we go see Daddy?” Diane queried.

“You can go talk to Nurse Waters and find out if he’s free,” their stepmother replied. “Remember to keep your voices down.”

“Okay!” The little girls pelted out.

Chris was about to help Leah to her feet, when it occurred to him she might as well wait until her stepdaughters finished their visit. “No hurry. Rest for a minute.”