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. “You can come back in tomorrow, Ms. Kirk, and check your inventory against what’s left in the drug cabinet. You’ll probably want to contact Dr. Buonfoglio’s patients as well. He’s a plastic surgeon, right?”
“Oh, my God.” She smacked her forehead. “Dr. B has a surgery tomorrow.”
“You can refer the patient to me. In fact, you can refer all of his patients to me for now.” Nick stood up and massaged his left shoulder. He’d convinced the paramedics he didn’t need to go to the hospital, but he could use some painkillers and a good night’s sleep.
“I didn’t realize you needed the work.” Lacey skewered him with a sideways glance.
He must’ve done her wrong in a past life or something. Should he even bother to remedy her low opinion of him? He shrugged. “Just trying to help out.”
“Thanks.” She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “But this particular patient tomorrow is top secret.”
“Huh?” Her words punched him in the gut. Dr. Buonfoglio had top-secret patients? Seems the good doctor still played with fire…probably why he had a gun.
“You know, celebrities, politicians. You don’t have the corner on that market yet, Dr. Per…Marino.”
He raised his eyebrows, but her words untied the knot in his belly. That explained the “secret patients.” All cosmetic surgeons had them. “It’s Marino, not Per-Marino.”
A pink tide ebbed into her cheeks as she covered her mouth with her hand. “I know that.”
Nailed her.
She turned to the detective. “Detective Chu, should I notify Dr. B’s surgical nurses? His bookkeeper works off-site. I should notify her, too.”
“You need to give us those names and addresses, and we’ll notify them. We have to interview them, anyway. Do you want an officer to accompany you to your car?”
“I’ll walk her down.” Nick stepped forward. “Get those names for Detective Chu while I pick up a few things from my office.”
Her eyes widened, but she kept her mouth shut for a change. Seems his take-charge attitude could overwhelm even Lacey Kirk, Nurse Know-It-All. He’d developed that attitude years ago, even before he became a doctor. It was an essential component in keeping things from spinning out of control.
By the time he got back, Lacey was waiting for him, clutching her blood-stained shirt in her hand.
“I’ll replace that for you.”
“This?” She waved it in front of her. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a Target special.”
He draped his suit jacket over his arm and gestured her ahead of him into the hallway.
Her gaze dropped to the Armani jacket, and then meandered up his silk tie and tailored shirt, now ripped and smudged with blood.
“I suppose you didn’t realize Target even had a clothing line, did you?”
Definite porcupine. He grabbed her arm and lied. “Yes, I did know that. Is the SFPD going to lock up Dr. Buonfoglio’s office?”
“Yeah.” She shook him off. “They’re putting one of those lock boxes on the door, like Realtors use. A cop’s going to be waiting for me tomorrow to unlock it when I come in to check things out and notify Dr. B’s patients.”
When they got into the elevator, Lacey leaned her forehead against the wall, her shoulders slumping. “I can’t believe this happened.”
“Dr. Buonfoglio was a good man and a good doctor. He’ll be missed.” He rubbed her back, and although she stiffened beneath his touch, she didn’t pull away.
The elevator landed on the second floor of the parking garage, and the doors rumbled open. Empty stalls yawned before them, and Lacey’s heels resounded through the cavernous lot.
Her small red Jetta stood alone in one row. Lacey took out her keys, and the Jetta’s lights flashed once.
“What’s this? Did I get a ticket for being in the parking structure too long?” She strode ahead of him and plucked a piece of paper from beneath her windshield wipers.
Holding the scrap of paper in her hands, she glanced back at Nick, her mouth dropping open. “D-do you think he left this?”
His stride devoured the space between them, and with a muscle ticking in his jaw, he snatched the paper from her hand.
Two
