Page 92 of Silver Claw

“He won’t wake up,” she said. “I wanted to see if you could help before I called the paramedics because…”

Because you drugged a concussed man. You had no right. You have no right to him at all.

I didn’t say it, but I wanted to.

“He’salwayshad trouble sleeping,” she continued. “I’ve given him a little something before to help him drift off, but something’s different this time.”

“He has a concussion. You shouldn’t have given him anything.”

She burst into tears.

I pushed back my anger and made a U-turn. “I’m on my way,” I told her, and ended the call. Then I called Ben Hayes and asked him if he could meet me at Rick’s house.

“I’ll be there,” he said. “Twenty minutes.”

Next, I called Joe to tell him I was going to be delayed coming in. Honestly, at that moment, I was just worried about Rick. I didn’t care about an office full of impatient clients or Max throwing a hissy fit.

I didn’t care when a ghost appeared suddenly in front of my speeding car, or when I saw that I was going thirty miles per hour over the speed limit.

I cared only that Rick would be okay.

I should have taken him to Shadowfield to recover. When I pulled into his driveway, Beth was standing on the porch watching for me. “I’ve put coffee on,” she said, when I walked up the steps. “And there’s cake.”

She was wringing her hands and her eyes were red, and honestly, I felt sorry for her. I didn’t know Beth well, but I knew she’d been wrestling with mental health issues for a long time. If Rick told her he didn’t want her to come back, that he wanted to divorce her, that wasn’t going to go well. Even though she’d been the one to leave.

“It’s okay, Beth,” I told her, taking her arm and steering her back into the house. “The doctor is on the way. Rick will be fine.”

“Will he?” she asked, peering up at me. “I mean, Kait, if something happens to him, it’ll be my fault. You were right. I shouldn’t have sneaked something into his drink. Would you like some coffee? Some cake?”

She needed something to do. Her nerves were shot and her hands were shaking. I wondered if she were medicated and if she’d gone off her meds. I wasn’t going to ask. “Iwouldlike some coffee, thank you,” I told her. “Maybe you could get some cake and coffee ready and listen for the doctor to arrive so you can let him in.”

She nodded. “I’ll do that.” Then she kept jabbering nervously all the way to the kitchen, picking up right where she’d left off. “Rick couldn’t sleep. He was just sitting there on the front porch, staring at nothing. He wouldn’t talk to me really, and he was so tired. So I asked him if I could get him anything, and he said he’d like some warm milk.” She wrinkled her nose. “Who drinks warm milk? I thought he was losing his mind because of his head injury, and that he just needed to sleep. So I put something in his milk—and he drank every drop.”

I’d helped Rick through one of his sleepless nights by giving him warm milk and sitting beside his bed, talking about nothing until he fell asleep. He’d thought me bringing him warm milk was pretty funny.

When he’d asked for it tonight, I couldn’t help but think he’d really been asking for me.

But I’d left him at the mayor’s and walked away.

“Dammit,” I whispered.

She paused at the kitchen doorway, as though suddenly realizing the kitchen wasn’t where I needed to be. “Let me show you to the bedroom, and then I’ll come back and get the coffee ready.”

“I know the way,” I told her. “You go ahead and get that coffee. Maybe pour a cup for Rick, too.”

She simply stared at me, and I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile and then strode away, anxious to see Rick.

I found him tangled up in the sheets, wearing only a pair of blue pajama bottoms, dead asleep. His dark hair was as messy as the sheets, and the bandage on his temple stood out against his pale skin.

I sat beside him, then leaned forward to kiss his forehead, his cheek. “Rick,” I murmured. God, he smelled good. He smelled like forever. “I’m here. I should never have left you.”

I laced my fingers with his and ran my other hand up his arm and over his chest, closing my eyes at the feel of his bare skin against my palm. I moved so that I could half lie on top of him, my lips at his throat.

He never stirred.

I lifted my lips to his ear. “Wake up, Detective. Wake up and kiss me.” Then I whispered something I’d never said to him. “I love you. I love you, Rick.”

Then I felt something else. Someone else, a split second before I heard a strangled sound and sat up to look over my shoulder at the doorway.