past me and stepped on the sandwich.”
“Officer—” she leaned forward to peer at the cop’s badge “—Bates, the man killed my boss, Dr. Buonfoglio. He’s in the back.”
Jesus. Nick’s gut constricted. He didn’t even know Dr. Buonfoglio was in the office. The fight with the masked man just took on a more sinister aspect…and a more deadly one.
At Lacey’s words, the paramedics working on Nick abandoned him and rushed to the back while Officer Bates radioed for homicide detectives. Nick took the opportunity to stagger to his feet and immediately dropped to the chair. He’d lost more blood than he’d thought.
“Okay, let’s take this from the top.” The cop’s gaze darted between Nick and Lacey, settling on Lacey. “Who are you, and what’s your name?”
“My name is Lacey Kirk, and I’m Dr. Buonfoglio’s office manager.” She smoothed her auburn hair back from her face, leaving a smudge of blood on her cheek. His or Dr. Buonfoglio’s?
As she told Officer Bates about the events leading up to the fight, her voice remained steady and calm, but her hands trembled until she clasped them in front of her.
Nick eased himself out of the chair. “You need to sit down, Lacey. Is there any water in here?”
“Don’t touch anything in the office, Doc. Homicide’s on their way and they’ll want a pristine murder site.”
Lacey’s pale face blanched further, and she swayed forward.
Nick took her arm and led her to the chair next to the one he just left. “Can I run back to my office to get her some water and a sedative?”
The officer held up his hand. “What’s your involvement? Were you in the office, too?”
“No. My office is down the hall. I was on my way back to my office after dropping off some files in the lobby. I heard Lacey screaming and ran in here.”
After Nick answered a few more questions, he jogged down the hallway to his office.
When he returned with a cup of water and a couple of sample packets of Xanax, the cop who took off after the masked intruder had returned, and the two paramedics huddled in the corner of the room ready to pounce on him.
“Is Dr. Buonfoglio dead?” He handed Lacey the paper cup and the packets. Her fingers brushed his as she accepted the water, and his nerve endings tingled in response. His adrenaline must still be pumping after that fight.
One of the paramedics nodded. “Yeah, blow to the head. He lost a lot of blood, and so did you. We need to finish with your vitals.”
“I’m all right.” He traced a fingertip along the angry red mark across the soft creamy skin of Lacey’s neck. “You should have a look at her. The guy had his arm locked around her throat when I came in.”
“I’ll check her out, and my partner can have a look at you.” The paramedic shrugged. “The guy in the back doesn’t need us. He’s ready for the coroner.”
“Do you have to be so cold? That’s my boss back there.” Lacey sniffled and pressed her hands to her cheeks.
“What are they teaching you guys in school about appropriate bedside manner these days?” Nick ran a hand down Lacey’s arm and cupped her elbow. After months of watching her whiz back and forth along the hallway and spotting her occasionally at the hospital, now that he was this close to her he had a strong urge to touch her.
She glanced up at him through wet lashes and flashed him a look of gratitude. He squeezed her elbow and allowed the paramedic to check his blood pressure.
Soon after, the office buzzed with enough cops, detectives and crime-scene personnel to populate six of those CSI shows, and more filled the hallway.
Lacey, sitting on the chair beside him, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her lashes lay like velvet crescents on her cheeks, and her brown hair with the reddish tint created a silky fan on the cushion. In fact, everything about her had the appearance of softness, until she opened her mouth. Were her sharp comments and sharper looks at the hospital due to his reputation as a player?
That reputation attracted a certain type of woman. The type of woman he always cultivated. The type of woman that represented safety.
Lacey’s eyes flew open. “How’s your head? I think you lost consciousness. You might have a concussion. You should get it checked out.”
“Okay Dr. Lacey.”
“Are you one of those doctors who can’t take medical advice from others, especially nurses?” She crossed her arms and scowled.
“I have the utmost respect for nurses.” He put his hands up to ward off the quills. Did he have to watch everything he said around her? “Couldn’t live without them.”
She snorted. “Yeah, that’s what I heard.”
Ouch. One of those quills hit pay dirt. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
Why defend himself? He should be pushing this one away with both hands. Those bright green eyes of hers didn’t miss a thing.
Detective Harley Chu, the lead detective on the scene, sat on the edge of the table across from their chairs. “Did the man have a gun?”
“If he did, I didn’t see it.” Nick shot a look at Lacey. “I thought Dr. Buonfoglio died from blunt trauma to the head.”
“He did, but on the other side of his head, there’s a mark that looks like the butt of a gun, and Dr. Buonfoglio had his gun in his hand when he went down.”
So the good doctor had a gun. That didn’t surprise Nick. “I didn’t hear any gunfire. Did Dr. Buonfoglio shoot his weapon?”
“No, he never released the safety. Looks like the intruder hit the doctor with the butt of a gun, stunning him. Then he grabbed the bookend and went in for the kill. He probably didn’t use his gun on you or Ms. Kirk because of the noise.”
Lacey sat up straight and shook her head. “He could’ve shot us.”
Nick studied his nails. “So what was he after?”
“Appears to be a case of theft. He smashed the drug cabinet in the supply room, and it looks like there are drugs missing.” Detective Chu tapped his chin with his pencil. He looked over at Lacey. “Do you have an inventory of drugs?”
Nick exhaled. A simple case of theft. God, he was happy to hear those words. Much better than the alternative.
“I do keep a drug inventory on my computer, but the man didn’t have a bag or anything, did he, Nick?”
At least the upheaval of the afternoon had prompted her to call him Nick instead of…Dr. Perfect. He drew in a quick breath. She’d called him Dr. Perfect when she was tending to his wound. Smart-ass.
He cleared his throat. “I didn’t notice anything, but you know how small the sample packs can be. He could’ve shoved several of them in his pockets, and he was wearing a big jacket, big enough to conceal anything.”
“If he came here to steal, why’d he kill Dr. B?” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, a furrow creasing her brow.
“He probably thought the office was empty. Maybe he watched you leave and tried the door, and then Dr. Buonfoglio pulled a gun on him.” Detective Chu shook his head. “He could’ve been high already.”
“Just seems like a calculated theft with the ski mask and the gloves. And if he was high, it was PCP, because the guy had incredible strength.” She niggled her lower lip, obviously not satisfied with the detective’s first stab at a motive.
Nick wanted to believe Detective Chu. He had to believe him. It couldn’t be what he’d feared for the past three years.
When the coroner arrived, Detective Chu told Lacey she could leave.