heard back from anyone in hospital administration yet.”
“That’s all right,” he assured her. “I have something else I want to talk to you about.”
“You do?” Her interest piqued, she quickly gave her consent. “Sure, I’d love to have lunch. Ah, where would you like to meet?”
He hesitated, and she sensed he wanted to argue about meeting at the restaurant, but was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t. “Do you like Italian? We could meet at Giovani’s, say, around eleven-thirty?”
“Giovani’s is perfect. See you then, Alec.”
Jillian hung up the phone, already shaking her head at her own foolishness. She was acting like a goof.
This wasn’t a date. This really wasn’t a date.
Ha! Maybe if she told herself that often enough, she’d figure out a way to believe it.
Alec wanted to ask her about something else. Like what? No doubt he had medical questions of some sort. A few of the men she’d dated in college had seemed to want to know all about various disease processes once they’d known she was a medical student.
She clutched her purse to her chest, feeling the same uncertainty she’d experienced back then, going out on her first date.
The guy had been nice enough, but their relationship hadn’t gone anywhere. In fact, none of the men she’d dated on and off during her college years had evoked deep feelings on her part.
Maybe because none of them had been anything like Alec. Alec was different. He put his life on the line for others, yet oozed masculinity and sensual awareness in a way she’d never experienced before.
She couldn’t deny that his magnetic attraction made her secretly thrilled to be seeing him again.
CHAPTER THREE
ALEC hated working weekends, not appreciating the way the job cut into his personal time with his daughter. He’d debated bringing Shelby along, but then Alaina had mentioned taking the kids to a water park and the excited glint in his daughter’s eye had convinced him it was better for her to go with his sister. Beth, Alaina’s daughter, was close to Shelby’s age and the two of them had become almost inseparable over the past eight months.
The knowledge should have made him feel less guilty about working the weekend, but didn’t.
He arrived at the restaurant early, having finished interviewing the neighbors around the area where the shooting had taken place sooner than he’d thought.
He stood in the shade of the building to wait for Jillian, seeking respite from the hot sun. The hours he’d spent gathering information hadn’t revealed much about why the two boys had begun to fight, but his John Doe number two did have a name.
Richard James Bordan. Known by his friends as Ricky.
The kid had celebrated his sixteenth birthday three weeks earlier. He’d played football and, according to his mother, had had dreams of qualifying for a college scholarship.
Ricky’s mother didn’t have any idea where he might have gotten the drugs. She claimed he’d been a good boy who hadn’t gotten into trouble with the law or skipped school as much as the other kids did. Football had been too important to him.
He could have pointed out that good boys didn’t usually carry guns and percocets but he hadn’t. Because deep down he believed her. Ricky probably was a good kid, who had made the stupid mistake of trying to settle an argument with a gun.
Where Ricky had gotten the gun and the drugs was a complete mystery. Although Ricky’s juvenile record did show he’d once run with a rough crowd.
He glanced up when a sedate blue Chevy Malibu pulled into the parking lot. When Jillian climbed out, his chest tightened and he nearly swallowed his tongue. She was dressed casually, in jeans that appeared to have been molded solely for her long legs and lean backside, paired with a tiny V-necked top that emphasized the high curve of her breasts. In the hospital her long white lab coat and conservative business clothes had given her a professional, hands-off image.
Now, with her hair falling in waves around her shoulders, Jillian looked young. Fresh. Beautiful. And close. Very close.
Well within reach.
“Hi!” Her breathless smile almost sent him to his knees. “I hope you weren’t waiting long?”
He shook his head, trying to convince his lame brain not to fail him, now. He pried his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Not at all.” He pulled the door open for her, somewhat surprised she wasn’t driving something a little more fun and sporty. He could easily see her in a flashy convertible. “I finished up early.”
“I’m hungry,” she confided as they were seated at a cozy table for two. “I’m glad you suggested meeting for lunch.”
“Me, too.” He knew better than to think of a simple sharing of a meal as a date but it was a difficult fact to remember when he wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He pulled his gaze from the temptation of her mouth with an effort. Once seated, they pondered the menus and placed their orders. When they both chose the same Italian dish, she laughed.
He sucked in his breath. She went from beautiful to stunning when she laughed.
It didn’t take much to imagine her smiling and laughing with his family. He came from a loud, noisy clan and he knew his parents and five siblings would love her. He suspected his youngest sister, Abby, especially would get on with Jillian.
Maybe he should invite Jillian to Abby and Nick’s wedding next month?
Or not, as he already had a date. With his daughter.
“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful about your case, Alec,” she said in a soft, apologetic tone. “But I promise as soon as Monday comes, I’ll make sure you get the list of staff members you requested.”
He shrugged, hiding his disappointment. He appreciated her need to go through proper channels, but it wasn’t easy to hold off on the investigation when kids’ lives were at stake. “That’s all right. I did want to ask you about something kind of related to the case.” He flashed a chagrined smile. “Percocets are pain pills, right?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Can you think of any reason why a sixteen-year-old would have them in his pocket?”
She sat back in her chair, tilted her head and drew her brows together in a small frown. He liked the way she carefully considered his questions, as if they were important. She didn’t just give an easy answer off the top of her head. “Not really, unless he’d recently had surgery, which could be verified on autopsy. If not, I can only assume he planned to sell them, but, from what I hear, percocets don’t have the same street value as other drugs, like oxycodone.”
He raised a brow at her perceptiveness. “You’re right about that. I’ve asked questions and heard the same thing. Still, it’s unusual for kids to have this kind of drug. Our narcotics division has seen more marijuana or crack cocaine or even heroin. Anything but percocets.”
Jillian
