Page 111 of The Cajun Doctor

“He stole something from me.”

Oh, so that’s how he was going to play this. “Money?”

“Not specifically. Something a lot more valuable than mere cash.”

Mere cash? Bite your tongue, Nick. Cash has never been mere to you. Ever. “How do you know Angus anyhow?”

“He is . . . was . . . working for me.”

She tilted her head to the side. “In what capacity? Angus has no medical training, as far as I know.”

“Computers.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t know where he is. Why would I?”

“I’ve checked everywhere else? And he disappeared the same time you did. I sense a connection.”

She tried her best, but she felt a blush coloring her cheeks. And Nick saw it, too.

“You do know where he is! What a goat fuck this is turning out to be! The time for games is over, sweetheart. I want Angus, and I want him now. Either you bring him to me, or I go to the police.”

“The police?” She frowned in confusion. “What would you tell the police?”

“Well,” he eyed his bookcase unit, “several valuable items of mine seem to have gone missing. A Samuel Remington bronze sculpture, two Newcomb vases worth ten thousand dollars, and an antique silver vase that once belonged to Robert E. Lee.”

She barely stifled a scoff at that last. Her grandmother had been from Scotland, not the South. More important, Samantha realized that Nick was going to fabricate thefts by hiding the objects himself. But this was just a ploy, it had to be. Nick wouldn’t take any chance of Angus being in police custody and spilling the beans about his illegal activities.

What then did Nick hope to accomplish with Angus now? Surely he didn’t think he could continue with his baby selling gig. The answer came to her immediately and ominously. Nick was going to kill Angus. He had to. How else would he ensure that Angus would forever remain silent?

But Nick a murderer? Was that possible?

Desperate men did desperate things, she reminded herself of the FBI agent’s words. And Nick had too much to lose now. Money. His medical license. His reputation. Prison. Oh, yeah, those were reasons to turn an already immoral man to evil.

“Where’s that brother of yours hiding? And, by the way, I don’t suppose he has a pregnant girl with him. Lily Beth Fontenot ring any bells?” Nick stood and was coming around the desk, hands fisted with fury, convinced now that she knew something.

She stood, too, not wanting to be sitting while he hovered over her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nick. First, Angus is not my brother, not even my stepbrother. And why would he have a pregnant girl with him? Oh, my! Is that what this is about? Angus getting some girl pregnant? Well, that’s not the end of the world, is it?”

“I’ll tell you what’s the end of the world. You. If you don’t stop these games and tell me where those two idiots are. They owe me! They owe me big-time.”

She shoved her chair to the side and was backing up with each slow, threatening step Nick took toward her. “You want to stop playing games? I do, too. Tell me exactly what the problem is. What is so urgent that I had to come here today?”

Just then, the door swung open and Angus rushed in, followed closely by the receptionist who was yelling, “Hey, you can’t go in there.”

“No? Watch me,” Angus yelled back, shoving the receptionist back out and slamming the door in her face.

Both she and Nick stared at Angus with amazement. His blond hair was standing on end, half in and half out of a ponytail. One of his athletic shoes was unlaced. And he was out of breath, as if he’d run up all three flights of stairs, instead of using the elevator. Did the FBI and police know he was here? Had they chased him, and that’s why he was so disheveled? What the hell next?

“Angus! What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t let you do this for me. Nick, let Samantha leave.”

“What? Are you crazy, Angus? Nick isn’t holding me here,” Samantha said.

“C’mon, Nick, you and I can handle this. I won’t tell anyone about the baby selling scheme. I can’t give you Lily Beth, but I won’t rat on you about the past stuff.”

Oh, good Lord! He was going to spoil it all.

Nick looked from Angus to Samantha with sudden understanding. “You told her,” he accused Angus. “You friggin’ fool!” He began to back up slightly, and tripped over her handbag, which spilled onto the floor, disclosing a wallet, a hairbrush, her cell phone . . . and the wiring device.