My Sunshine (38 page)

“It happened!” Belinda cried.

“In your dreams, maybe.”

Belinda made a bestial sound low in her throat, and the next instant the fax machine went crashing to the floor.

“Hey!” Isaiah yelled when the crazed woman headed for the office files. “Stop it, Belinda. What the hell are you doing? That's vital information on hundreds of animals!”

When he grabbed her arm to stop her from tearing folders from the shelf and throwing them to the floor, she whirled and attacked with fists, fingernails, teeth. Isaiah didn't want to smack her, but, oh, man, he was tempted.

“Belinda, stop it!” he cried.

She just kept swinging. He took a right hook to the eye, a left to his nose. The blows didn't really hurt, but Isaiah crossed his arms over his head and doubled over at the waist to protect his face anyway.

The woman had gone clear over the edge. Isaiah had never seen anyone lose it so completely.

“Val, call the cops!” Instead of racing for the phone, Val stepped in close and said, “Belinda?”

When Belinda stopped pounding on Isaiah long
enough to glance over her shoulder, the wiry office manager smiled sweetly, and then she swung, nailing Belinda squarely in the face with a knotted fist. The tech dropped to her knees like a bag of wet cement.

“My nose! My nose!” Belinda cried.

Val stood at the ready to hit her again. “He can't fight back, you vicious little tramp, but I'm more than willing. You want to go a round or two with me, honey? Please, make my day.”

Belinda scrambled to get away. Isaiah was already diving for the phone when the tech gained her feet and dashed from the building. Val started after her. Isaiah caught the office manager's arm.

“Let her go,” he said. “The police can deal with her.”

Val sighed and dusted her hands on her slacks. “What a pity. I was just getting warmed up.”

 

An hour later Isaiah sat in his office with a grandfatherly police officer who'd asked him dozens of questions and been taking copious notes. Isaiah liked the fellow. He had gray hair, a ruddy complexion, and intelligent blue eyes.

“This isn't a mere fixation,” Isaiah encapsulated, “but a sick obsession. I never encouraged Belinda. She just somehow got it into her head that we had a future together.”

“It happens,” Officer Keenan said. “People think it's always men. How wrong they are.” He closed his tablet and put the pen in his pocket. “Your theories on the drug theft make sense to me. If you and Ms. Townsend forgot to lock her car the afternoon
before last when you were trying to deal with the puppies, it would have been easy enough for Ms. Baxter to get inside the car, pull the trunk lever on the dash, stash the drugs, and then lock all the doors. As for Ms. Townsend's security code, if you or your brother is in the habit of leaving your clinic keys in a coat pocket or desk drawer, anyone could have grabbed them and gone through your files.”

“Is Laura in the clear, then?”

Keenan smiled. “I sense you're fond of the lady.”

Isaiah nodded. “You could say that.”

The officer pushed to his feet. “She's not entirely off the hook, but I'm leaning very strongly in that direction. Let me run a background check on Ms. Baxter. Men and women who become obsessive about members of the opposite sex usually have a history of such behavior.”

“How long do you think that will take?”

“With the information you've given me, I may be able to come up with something by tomorrow. The background check itself will take much longer.”

“You're going to call the college she attended?”

“And all the employers she listed on her job application.” Keenan settled his billed hat on his head. “Next time around you might be wise to check out all the references yourself before you hire someone, Dr. Coulter. These days you just never know about people.”

Isaiah couldn't argue the point. He'd been shorthanded when Belinda had applied for a job. She'd been well qualified. He'd bypassed all the preliminaries and hired her on the spot. “I'll be more careful from now on—I guarantee that.”

After Officer Keenan left, Isaiah tried once again to call Laura. The phone rang and rang. Finally her recorded message clicked on. Hearing her voice, so halting and sweet, almost brought tears to his eyes. He wished she would at least talk to him. Evidently she was screening her calls, and when a balloon came up in the window, she knew not to answer.

He thought about going to her apartment, but a quick glance at his watch had him springing to his feet instead. He had surgery in ten minutes. Love would have to wait.

 

At about four thirty that afternoon, Isaiah had just finished spaying a young Lab when Val popped into the surgery. “Officer Keenan is on the phone,” she said.

Isaiah angled his bent arms backward to relieve a kink between his shoulder blades. “I'm done here. I'll take it in my office.” He glanced at Susan, who'd been filling in all afternoon for Belinda. “Can you take it from here for me?”

The stout blonde nodded. Isaiah tugged off the surgical gloves, dropped them into a receptacle, and peeled off his lab coat, tossing it into a laundry basket as he pushed out the door.

Keenan got right to the point when Isaiah picked up the phone. “Bingo,” he said. “Belinda Baxter has a nasty history.”

Tugging a stethoscope from around his neck and tossing it on his desk, Isaiah said, “After what I saw this morning, I'm not surprised. What's the scoop?”

“University of Colorado, 1993. Ms. Baxter
accused a male athlete of date rape. At the preliminary hearing, her version of the story was contradicted by several credible eyewitnesses, both male and female. They claimed she had a crush on the guy and retaliated when he told her he wasn't interested.”

“Shit.”

“The following year, she fancied herself in love with a professor. When he spurned her advances, she grew furious and accused him of coercing her into giving him sex in exchange for passing grades. Again, her story didn't hold together.”

“I can't believe this,” Isaiah said wearily.

“In short,” Keenan went on, “the lady has a screw loose. We're trying to locate her for questioning. Unfortunately she seems to have vacated her apartment. We think she's left town.”

Isaiah hoped she'd left and would never come back. If he never saw Belinda again, it would be too soon. “Does this mean Laura is no longer a suspect?”

“Going on what little I've already learned, I'm convinced that Ms. Townsend was set up. I'll call her the moment we hang up and give her the news.”

“If it's not against procedure, can you postpone that call?” Isaiah asked. “I'd like to deliver the news to her myself, if that's all right.”

Keenan laughed. “I'll give you a couple of hours.”

“I appreciate it,” Isaiah said. “And Officer Keenan? Thank you for all you've done.”

“Just doing my job, son.”

Because Laura's Mazda was impounded, her grandmother had driven her to a grocery store, and Laura was restocking her refrigerator with perishables when a knock came on her door. She froze with a jug of milk in her hand. Since early morning she'd been expecting Isaiah to show up. How like him to wait until he was finished at the clinic for the day.

The thought made Laura's heart hurt. Some women might be offended when they played second fiddle to a bunch of dogs and cats, but she wasn't one of them. One of the first things she'd come to love about Isaiah was his devotion to the animals in his care.

Laura shoved the milk in the refrigerator and headed for the front door. She couldn't avoid him forever. He'd called at least ten times. Knowing Isaiah, he wasn't likely to stop until she talked to him. She felt stronger today, less likely to fold under pressure. No matter how many times he said he loved her, she would stick to her guns, not because this was easy for her to do, but because her decision to end the relationship would be better for him in the long run.

Before opening the door, she took one last breath for courage. She was surprised to see Belinda standing on the landing. Laura was about to say hello and invite the technician in when she noticed the wild look in Belinda's eyes and the dried blood under her nose. A heartbeat later she saw the butcher knife clutched in the technician's hand.

Laura reacted quickly, throwing her weight against the door to slam it closed, but Belinda was
faster and had the advantage of greater weight. Laura was thrown off balance as Belinda shoved her way inside. Before Laura could regain her footing, the brunette was upon her.

During rehab Laura had studied tai chi to help her stay calm, improve her equilibrium, and strengthen the right side of her body, which had been weakened. One particular technique called Push Hands had taught her how to defend herself nonaggressively, using her weight and balance to overset an opponent.

When Belinda stabbed downward with the butcher knife, that Push Hands training saved Laura's life. She caught Belinda's wrist, shifted her weight, and threw the other woman off her feet. Belinda hit the floor. Laura tried to run outside to scream for help, but to her horror Belinda sprang upright, lunged into her path, and came at her again.

“Bitch!” Belinda snarled. “He won't think you're pretty when I get done with you.”

Laura bent her knees and bounced on her toes, doing a macabre dance with the knife blade in Belinda's hand, darting to one side, leaping backward, sometimes evading a lethal stab by mere inches.

“Don't—do—this,” she managed to push out. “Please—don't.”

Belinda only laughed crazily and came at Laura again. Laura jerked away, but this time she wasn't quite fast enough. Belinda grunted and stabbed downward viciously. Laura met the swing with a hard upward shove that knocked the other
woman's aim off. Before Belinda could regroup and stab at her again, Laura propelled herself forward, hitting the tech in the midriff with her shoulder.

Belinda whooshed in startled dismay, staggering backward and losing her balance. The backward stumble carried her out the open doorway. Laura didn't wait to see where or how the woman landed. She threw herself against the door to slam it closed, shoved the dead bolt home, and then raced for her purse to get her cell phone.

For a horrible moment she couldn't remember the symbol Gram had programmed in for the police. Panicked, expecting Belinda to break through one of the windows at any moment, she scrolled down with frenzied urgency. Balloon, horse, cake, cat, dog.
Oh, God.
And then she saw it.
Star, to represent a badge.

Hands shaking so violently that she could barely control her fingers, she punched the little green phone on the console to place the call.

 

Isaiah brought his Hummer to a fishtailing halt when he saw the police cars nosed in to the curb in front of Laura's garage apartment. Lights were flashing. Uniformed men were racing back and forth across the yard. For a terrible moment he thought the crumpled form of a woman lying on the snow was Laura.

“Holy Mother.” Isaiah left the Hummer in the middle of the street. “Laura?”

He leaped over the curb and the snow-covered median to land on the icy sidewalk. He was still running when he saw that the woman had dark
hair. He slowed his pace, his gaze fixed incredulously on her limp body.
Belinda?
He looked up and saw the broken railing.

“What happened?” he asked a police officer in a heavy blue bomber jacket and a hat with lined earflaps. “Is the lady who lives here all right?”

“She's fine. I think she's upstairs.”

Isaiah took the steps three at a time. When he reached the landing he saw Laura standing in the open doorway, speaking to a police officer. She looked a little shaken up, but fine otherwise, except that she shivered from the cold.

“An ambulance is on the way,” the policeman was saying.

“I—didn't—mean—to—hurt—her.” Laura glanced past the policeman and saw Isaiah standing there. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know. “Isaiah?” she cried.

He pushed past the cop to pull her into his arms. “What the hell happened?”

Laura clung to his neck. She was shaking so violently that the tremors ran clear through him. Haltingly she recounted the incident. The cop filled in the blanks. Isaiah glanced over the edge of the landing. All he could see of Belinda now was her dark hair spread over the snow, because she'd been covered with a blanket. He knew it was bad of him, but he felt that she deserved whatever she got.

“Is she dead?” he asked the policeman.

“No. Neck injury, we think. The paramedics are on their way.”

Isaiah tightened his arm around Laura's waist
and led her back into the apartment. All his rehearsed speeches would have to wait.

 

An hour later Laura was curled up at one end of the love seat, sipping a second cup of tea. Isaiah sat across from her on an easy chair. Belinda had long since been transported to the hospital by ambulance, and only a few minutes ago the police had called to report that her injuries were minimal. The snow had cushioned her fall. She'd only been knocked out. As soon as the doctors released her, she would be taken to the police station and booked on a number of charges, not the least of which was attempted murder.