Page 103 of Liar's Point

She glanced over her shoulder as David stepped out of the autopsy suite. He wore blue scrubs, and the surgical mask hanging around his neck told her he’d just finished a procedure.

He walked over, his brow furrowed with concern. It was the reaction she’d been getting from everyone today.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked.

She drew back. “It’s two in the afternoon.”

“I thought you’d take a few days off.”

Irritation needled her. “Why would you think that?”

“Because.” He reached around her and opened the door. “You need to rest and recover.”

“Right. Yeah.” She crutched into his office. She didn’t feel like making the effort to sit, so she turned to face him. “The thing is, I’m in the middle of this thing called a murder investigation? My whole department is slightly swamped right now?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m guessing by your mood that you didn’t sleep well.”

She took a deep breath. Okay, so maybe she was being a bitch. But his assumption that she would take a few days off irked her.

“You’re right, sorry,” she said. “I’m a little edgy today.”

“Have a seat. Please.” He walked around her and sat down behind his desk. “How’s the ankle?”

She glanced around, then lowered herself into the guest chair and propped her crutches against his desk. He looked her over, probably shocked to see her in a denim miniskirt today instead of her usual unisex field uniform. She didn’t have a lot of clothes that fit over her boot.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “Better than last night.”

“You’re not supposed to drive, you know.”

“Actually, Chan said I was fine to drive. It’s my left ankle, so—”

“No, I mean the pain medication. Don’t operate heavy machinery, and all that.”

“Oh. Owen—one of my colleagues—drove me here. We came to see Miranda about something, but I wanted to stop by first and talk to you.” She took a deep breath. This conversation was off to a bumpy start. “I wanted to thank you for the flowers. They’re really beautiful.”

He nodded. “I’m glad.”

“Especially the roses.” Her stomach started jumping around. “My apartment smells amazing.”

“Nicole.” He leaned forward. “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t come here to talk about flowers?”

She took a deep breath. “No, you’re right. The thing is—”

Someone tapped at the door and then opened it.

“David, you’ve got—” Cynthia stopped when she saw Nicole sitting there. “Hello. I didn’t see you come in.”

Nicole smiled. “Hi.”

“What’s up, Cynthia?”

“You’ve got a message from Dr.Schuler in Dallas. He needs you to call him.”

“I will. Thanks.”

She closed the door, and they were alone again.

David looked at her.

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