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  Chanel patted her hair self-consciously and avoided looking at the others. “Thank you, Mrs Evan.”

  “You’re welcome, honey. I’m only stating the truth.”

  “So, how long have you been feeling unwell?”

  “It must be at least two weeks. It started with a cough and a sniffle and progressed from there.”

  “Do you mind if I listen to your chest?”

  “Of course not.”

  Chanel took the stethoscope from around her neck and fitted the ear pieces. Leaning closer to the woman, she gently pressed the end of the stethoscope against the thin cotton of Mrs Evan’s nightgown. The rattle in the old lady’s chest was unmistakable.

  “Do you mind leaning forward, Mrs Evan? I’d like to listen from the back.”

  The woman heaved herself upright and then leaned forward enough so Chanel could put the stethoscope against her back. Moving the instrument from side to side, the result was the same.

  “Thank you, Mrs Evan. You may get comfortable. I’m finished.”

  Doctor Baker’s gaze narrowed on her. “So, Doctor Munro, what do you think?”

  Chanel lifted her head and held his gaze. “She has bilateral pneumonia, Doctor Baker. She needs IV antibiotics. Stat. If all goes well, she should be fine in three or four days. At least, well enough to go home.”

  The hardness didn’t leave Doctor Baker’s eyes, but he offered a reluctant nod and turned back to the patient.

  “There you go, Robyn. A few days and you’ll be feeling a whole lot better than you are right now.”

  The elderly woman looked up at him with gratitude. “Thank you, Doctor. It can’t come soon enough.” A hacking cough took hold of her and didn’t seem to ease. Chanel stepped forward and patted her on the back.

  “It’s okay, Mrs Evan. Coughing’s going to help. It’s your body’s way of trying to get rid of the buildup of fluid inside your lungs. I know it’s uncomfortable, but just try and remember it’s helping you to heal. If we give you something to suppress the cough, it will only slow things down.”

  “We don’t want to do that.” The old lady gasped and even attempted a smile.

  Chanel smiled back at her and squeezed her soft, wrinkled hand.

  “You’re going to make a fine doctor,” Mrs Evan said. “I can see how much you care. You can have all the smarts in the world, but if you don’t care about your patients, what good does it do?”

  “You’re very sweet, Mrs Evan, and thank you for saying so.”

  “I used to have hair that color,” the woman murmured and reflexively touched the wisps of white that covered her head. “A long, long time ago.”

  “You were beautiful,” Chanel said. “You’re still beautiful.”

  A sad smile turned up the corners of the woman’s mottled lips. “Now who’s being kind?”

  “Not kind at all,” Chanel smiled. “Just stating the truth.”

  “Doctor Munro, are you finished here?”

  The stern interruption came from her superior. He glowered at Chanel.

  “Yes, Doctor Baker. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “We have other patients to see.”

  “Yes, of course.” She turned back to Mrs Evan. “It was lovely to meet you and I’m sure you’ll be feeling better soon.”

  “Thank you, honey. I hope to see you again.”

  “Oh, you will. I’ll make sure of it,” Chanel promised and followed Doctor Baker and his students out of the room. She’d barely cleared the room when Tanya pulled her to one side.

  “I see Doctor Baker’s still using you for his punching bag. Where were you this morning, anyway? You were gone before I got up. I assumed you’d left for work early.”

  “No, I went for a jog. It was such a beautiful morning. I jogged over the Harbour Bridge and back. I was nearly home when I heard the sound of a kitten. It was caught in a drain.”

  Tanya rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you were late for work because you were rescuing a kitten?”

  “I couldn’t just leave it there! It was cold and wet and looked like it had been there all night. What would you expect me to do?”

  “I don’t know, leave it for someone else to find. Why do you have to be the Good Samaritan?”

  Chanel sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s just in me. It’s the reason I became a doctor. I can’t stand back and let things suffer when I can help.”

  “It was a kitten, Chanel and probably a stray one at that. What did you do with it?”

  Chanel dropped her gaze and tried hard to will away the guilty blush that spread across her cheeks.

  Tanya’s eyes narrowed. “Chanel Munro, what did you do with that kitten?”

  “I-I brought it home with me. That’s why I was late. I had to run to the corner shop and buy some milk and cat food.”

  “You brought it home? To live with us? What if I’m allergic?”

  Chanel looked up at her. “Are you?”

  “No, but that’s not the point. You can’t bring stray animals home and not tell me. I’m paying half the rent, remember? I get equal say. It’s only fair.”

  Chanel’s shoulders slumped and she looked away. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I should have asked you about it first. It was just that, I was there and it was cold and hungry and…” She looked up at Tanya and silently pleaded for her to understand.

  Tanya sighed and shook head. “Chanel Munro, what am I going to do with you?”

  “You don’t have to do anything with—”

  “Is it cute?”

  A tiny smile lifted the corners of Chanel’s lips. “Yes, it’s very cute.”

  “Is it soft and fluffy?”

  “Now that she’s dry… Yes, she’s very soft and fluffy.”

  “She?”

  Chanel’s smile widened to a grin. “I checked.”

  “Does she have a name?”

  “Not yet. Why don’t you think of one?”

  Tanya’s eyes sparkled in delight. “Really?”

  Chanel nodded. “Really.”

  Tanya squealed and gave her a quick hug. “Well, now that I know the reason you were late, I’m well and truly satisfied with your excuse for your tardiness.”

  “Too bad Doctor Baker didn’t see it that way.”

  Tanya’s brow creased into a frown. “I still don’t get why he’s so hard on you. It’s like he takes particular delight in seeing you stumble. None of us get any joy out of it, let me tell you. It’s embarrassing as hell to watch him tear into you like that.”

  “You think it’s embarrassing for you? How do you think I feel?”

  Tanya shook her head in sympathy. “He seemed to like you at the start. I wonder what happened to make him turn on you?”

  Chanel compressed her lips, determined not to share her humiliation with her friend. Even if Tanya believed her, what could either of them do about it? When Chanel had shared a few sparse details of the encounter with her sister, Josie had urged Chanel to report him to the medical board, but Chanel wasn’t convinced it would be worth the effort.

  Why would the board believe her? Doctor Baker was lauded by the medical profession from one end of the state to another. He saved countless lives and was humble, to boot. Who would believe her—a nobody second-year resident doctor? Forcing a smile, she hurried to clear the concern from her friend’s eyes.

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine. H-he’s like that with everyone. I can’t remember the last time he actually praised one of us for our efforts. It’s like he enjoys setting us up to fail.”

  “I think that’s probably a little melodramatic,” Tanya laughed. “He’s a brilliant doctor with a healthy ego. He didn’t get to be where he is without a lot of hard work. Okay, he’s a harsh taskmaster, but he probably wants to make sure we work at succeeding as hard as he did. Some people are like that. They don’t want anyone to take the easy road. It just isn’t in them to allow it.”

  “Mm, maybe,” Chanel replied with an effort, unable to help thinkin
g once again about his unethical proposition. He was more than happy for them to take the easy way if it suited him. In an attempt to steer the conversation in another direction, she said, “So, whose turn is it to cook dinner?”

  “Doctor Munro, if you can bear to drag yourself away from Doctor Singh, who is no doubt catching you up on the latest gossip, I’d like a word.”

  The harshness of Doctor Baker’s tone and the steely-eyed glare he threw their way served to bring an abrupt end to their conversation. Nerves surged through Chanel, but she steadfastly forced them aside. She’d had enough of being intimidated, most especially by her boss. With courage she was far from feeling, she moved closer toward him and bravely held his gaze.

  “You wanted to speak with me, Doctor?”

  He stared down at her, his expression one of uncompromising granite.

  “Yes, as it happens, I took a call from staffing a few moments ago. It seems they’re down on doctors in the clinic this morning. Three staff members have called in sick and they have a bunch of police officers booked in for their routine physical exams today. Nothing too demanding, but the clinic needs some help. I’ve offered to let them have the use of your skills for the day.”

  Chanel started in surprise. It was the last thing she’d expected. While it wasn’t an invitation to carry out brain surgery, it was a definite nod to his confidence in her as a doctor. Up until then, she’d only ever dispensed diagnoses and treatment decisions under supervision. The thrill of being allowed to deal with patients independently was beyond exciting. Perhaps he’d reconsidered his threat to make her life difficult?

  “Thank you. I’d love to do it,” she said and offered him a sincere smile of gratitude.

  “You might not thank me after you’ve had to deal with a dozen or more irritable police officers. None of them like being told they might not be in the best of health. They all think they’re invincible. A bit like us, right?” He grinned and it seemed so genuine, she couldn’t help but respond.

  “Right.”

  “The clinic opens in twenty minutes. You’ll find it on Level Two. Ask for Janet. She’s the nurse in charge.”

  “Level Two. Janet. Right, no problem. I’ll leave right away.”

  “Don’t let me down,” he warned.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Bryce hunched forward over his desk and pressed his cell phone to his ear. He listened for the third time to yet another voice mail message left by his wife’s doctor requesting that Bryce return his call. Biting back a sigh, he did his best to school his features into a mask of indifference. No use in alarming his colleagues unnecessarily or worse, opening himself up to a pile of questions he had no desire to answer.

  The pointedness of the doctor’s message hadn’t gotten any easier to hear, despite the number of times he’d listened to it. The unspoken meaning was clear: The doctor wanted to discuss treatment options for his wife.

  He scoffed quietly at the medical-speak. Treatment options? As if treatment was a priority. The medical staff had stopped treating Angela years ago. Now she was a patient taking up room in a much-needed hospital bed, caught up in a health system that was stressed to its limits. Treatment options, my ass. They wanted to talk about turning off the machine.

  With another sigh, he ended the call and then immediately called his grandmother. He’d been trying to reach her all afternoon, but her phone continued to ring out. It concerned him when he couldn’t reach her. It wasn’t that he immediately assumed the worst, but she was an elderly woman in failing health. The facts couldn’t be denied.

  He left yet another message on his grandmother’s message bank and then dropped the phone back into his shirt pocket. On top of the call from his wife’s doctor, it had been a shit of an afternoon.

  “Bryce, you haven’t forgotten that medical, have you? You’re scheduled for five o’clock.” Holt came to a stop beside Bryce’s desk.

  Bryce automatically nodded in response, even though the routine physical at the hospital had completely slipped his mind. He glanced at the clock on the wall of the squad room. He had fifteen minutes to get there.

  Collecting his wallet and keys from the top drawer of his desk, he strode toward the exit. On his way, he checked his phone for messages or missed calls, but there was nothing. With his jaw clenched against another surge of apprehension, he left the building.

  Traffic down to the harbor was light and he made good time. His phone showed a few minutes to five when he pulled into the hospital car park. Jogging to close the distance between him and the entryway, he threw a brief wave to Marjorie and Dottie on his way to the elevators and punched in Level Two.

  The route was a familiar one. It was a requirement for all New South Wales Police officers to undergo a mandatory physical examination every year. Even though he hated to succumb to the poking and prodding he’d inevitably be forced to endure from some trainee doctor, he’d been in the police service long enough to know there was no point protesting.

  He pushed open the door that led to the clinic and came up short. Chanel Munro leaned against the counter, her attention fixed on the file in her hands. She looked every bit as fresh and beautiful as she had the first time he’d seen her and it took all that he had not to stare.

  “Detective Bryce Sutcliffe?”

  She called out his name and looked around the waiting room. The two other occupants shook their heads. Bryce stepped forward.

  “I’m Detective Sutcliffe.”

  She turned to face him. He could tell the exact moment she recognized him. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted ever so slightly. A moment later, she smiled at him and Bryce felt it all the way down to his toes.

  “Detective Sutcliffe, I’m Doctor Munro. I’ll be doing your physical examination this afternoon. If you wouldn’t mind following me, we’ll get started.”

  She turned and headed toward a closed door. Bryce took a moment to collect himself. His reaction to her was ridiculous. She was a doctor, a part of the profession he found very hard to tolerate. After all he’d endured with Angela—first with the endless rounds of IVF and then later, he’d thought he had enough of doctors to last him a lifetime.

  “Detective Sutcliffe?”

  He looked up. She’d come to a halt a few yards in front of him, her eyebrow raised in silent query. Heat crept up his neck. He felt like a recalcitrant child refusing to take their medicine. With gritted teeth, he picked up his pace and followed her into the room. She closed the door behind him.

  “Take a seat,” she said and indicated the chair that stood opposite a plain wooden desk, largely free from clutter.

  “I’m sure you know how these work. It says in your file you’ve been employed by the New South Wales Police Service for more than a decade. I’m going to ask you a few questions about your general health and then I’ll carry out the physical exam. Is that all right with you?”

  Bryce nodded reluctantly. “Sure.”

  Chanel put his file on the desk and then walked around behind it and took a seat. She opened the file and scanned its contents, every now and then nodding approval.

  “You appear to be in good health, Detective. Are you still jogging every day?”

  “When time permits.”

  “Has anything been troubling you since your last visit? Is there anything in particular you’d like me to look at?”

  Bryce stared at her and did his best to hold back a grin. In any other circumstances, he might just be tempted to joke with her. Instead, he replied somberly.

  “No, Doctor. I do what I can to stay fit and I limit my alcohol intake. I also try and keep my diet in check. My grandmother does her best in that regard.”

  She smiled and made a note in his file, but the mention of his grandmother reminded him he still hadn’t heard from her. With a frown, he pulled out his phone and checked for messages. Misinterpreting his actions, Doctor Munro frowned back at him.

  “I promise not to take up too much of your time,
Detective Sutcliffe. I understand how busy you are. If you cooperate, I can have you out of here as soon as possible. It’s important I conduct a thorough examination. Your employer relies on the information in my report and quite frankly, my employer expects me to do my job. If you don’t mind, I’d ask that you refrain from checking your phone and give me your full attention.”

  There was a new edge to her voice and her cheeks were flushed with anger. He immediately felt contrite. The feeling annoyed him, but he forced himself to apologize.

  “I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that—” He broke off, unwilling to say anything more. It wasn’t any of her business why he felt the need to check his cell phone.

  Her gaze remained pointed. He debated about blowing her off, but decided against it. She was probably one of those doctors who wouldn’t let it go until she was satisfied with his answer. Besides, the sooner he gave her what she wanted, the sooner he could get out of there.

  “It’s my grandmother.”

  “The one who makes sure you’re eating right.”

  He gave a wry grin. “Yes. I live with her, watch out for her. We… I guess we watch out for each other.”

  “How lovely.”

  She sounded so genuine, Bryce couldn’t help but believe she meant it.

  “I try and check in with her whenever I can. She’s eighty-three and her health’s not the best. I’ve been trying to contact her all afternoon. She’s not answering her phone.”

  Understanding filled the doctor’s eyes and her expression turned serious. “Do you think something might have happened to her? Would you like to call an ambulance?”

  Bryce shook his head, feeling a little foolish. “No, of course not. She probably just forgot to charge her cell. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions just because I can’t reach her.”

  “It’s okay for you to be concerned. Elderly people can have sudden health crises that none of us see coming. It happened to my dad a couple of Christmases ago. Scared us all to death. Would you like to try her again?”

  The kindness in her eyes hit him like a blow to the gut. He couldn’t remember ever feeling kindness from a member of the medical profession and if he had, he’d buried the memory way down deep inside.