Page 9 of Crow's Haven
“Sharon Jackson, she answered the ad I ran in the local paper looking for office help. Paperwork’s stacked. Patient load’s been heavier than usual. She came in looking for work, offered to clean floors if that’s what it took to get a job. I was gonna interview her today.”
“You sure she’s not a nurse or a doctor?” I ask. “She sure seemed to know her shit.”
“I didn’t get as far as finding out her prior work experience. But if she was a nurse she could make far more working casual shifts. She sounded desperate.”
“While ya were gone, one of the local sheriffs walked in and she got spooked. Don’t ya find that suspicious?”
Patch finally looks at me. “That’s not my business to ask.”
“It is when she’s treating my son.”
He doesn’t argue. Just sighs and walks over to grab the chart from the counter. “You’re not gonna make a complaint are you? Whoever strapped his arm up knew what they were doing. No harm no foul.”
“Of course I’m not gonna make a complaint, brother. But maybe you need to get security if people are gonna wander in off the streets into the exam rooms,” I say.
He gives a shrug and glances towards the waiting area that’s rapidly filling up with patients. Feeling sorry for my overworked club brother I tell him, “Don’t let me keep you.”
“I’ve got thirty minutes before my next patient.”
I can’t stop thinking about the way the woman moved, damn much in her element. The calm in her voice when Scout was upset and in pain. The way her hands didn’t shake when she examined him. That kind of control doesn’t come easy. That’s trauma-trained behavior. I’ve seen it in combat medics. People who’ve learned to lock their emotions in a box and keep movin’.
And then that switch flipped the moment she saw that cop. She tensed the second the cop walked in. There has to be a reason for that kind of about-face. No badge should scare a person that fast unless they’ve got a damn good reason.
“What did you say the woman’s name was?” I ask before Patch leaves.
“Sharon Jackson,” Patch says.
***
Back at the truck, Scout’s dozing beside me in the back along with Chase and Evan is driving. I decide to see if Evan noticed anything useful. “Did you see which way that woman who helped Scout went when she left the building?”
Evan glances at me in the rear-view mirror. “I was trying to stop Chase from making paper airplanes from the leaflets. ButI think she took off in a Subaru Outback. I don’t know if any of that helps.”
“It does, Evan. Thanks.”
Evan gives me a boyish smile in his rear view. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you.”
I don’t like mysteries this close to my boys. And I sure as hell don’t like owing favors to women on the run. I’m the type of man to pay back what I owe.
I pull out my phone and call the one person who can get me some answers.
“Zen.”
“Yeah, what do ya need, Crow?”
“I need a soft trace. Woman’s name is Sharon Jackson. Sorry I don’t have anything else to go on. She owns a Subaru Outback. Check if the name is on any police list or if she’s filed any restraining orders. See what ya can find out on the sly. If someone’s chasing her, I don’t wanna draw them to Las Salinas.”
“Got it, brother,” Zen tells me. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
I hang up, so he can get on with the job I asked him to do. If she’s clean, fine. If she’s in some kind of trouble, I wanna be the one who figures out why. Until then, I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. Because one thing I know for damn sure and that’s ya don’t vanish like that unless you’re scared.
Chapter 4
Sharon
When I left the doctor’s office, I didn’t look back. I shouldn’t have helped that man and his son, but when I saw the boy in pain, I had to do something. I was there for an interview—I’d seen the ad he’d run looking for an office helper. It would be doing administrative work, but it would pay the bills. I’d given my cousin’s name.
But I’d blown my chance. When the deputy from the sheriff’s office turned up, I panicked.
