Patty’s aunt was sitting on the table. And a gash was right. She had a line of blood that had run down her left temple and gotten all over the shoulder of her white blouse. There was more on the white paper on the exam table.
“Glad you’re here.” A man who was evidently one of the ER docs was standing nearby with small table containing suture material. “She’s not letting us clean her up.”
Patty moved closer. “Aunt Grace, you’ve hurt yourself. You need to let these people help you.”
“I’m not hurt, Patricia.” The woman’s eyes were still sharp and observant, despite her memory issues. And she had to be semi-lucid if she’d gotten in a taxi and arrived here.
That sharp gaze swiveled to him, and she frowned. “Who are you?”
“I’m Daxon Morrow. A friend of Patty’s.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. But how else could he introduce himself?
Her head tilted, and she studied him before her attention shifted to Patty. “Let me see your locket.”
Patty’s face turned bloodred. “I haven’t worn that locket in years, Aunt Grace. How did you even remember that?”
“I only remember the important stuff. And I think I know him.” The woman blinked. “Or I think I do. I don’t…where’s your locket?”
The confusion was a sign of dementia. As was repeating the same information. And from what Patty said, the locket wasn’t even something she currently wore. So what had brought that on?
“Is it a special locket?” he asked. Maybe if he distracted her, it would make it easier to get the sutures in.
Grace nodded. “It has a picture of her boy in it.”
A boy? But Patty had said she’d miscarried. Had she lied?
No. There’d be no reason to. And from the way she’d revealed it, he was certain she hadn’t made it up. So who was the boy? Someone imagined? Or was one of Patty’s boyfriends?
His jaw tightened at the thought.
“Aunt Grace. I don’t know where the locket is. I think I lost it.”
“No, it’s in your special drawer. The one you think I don’t know about.”
“Oh Lord…” If anything, Patty’s face had turned an even darker red.
Why was she so embarrassed? It wasn’t as if it was a picture of him in there.
His eyes found hers, and her glance flitted away as soon as they did. Surely not.
He stepped closer to Grace. He’d offered to help, so he needed to do that, not fixate on a thought that had arrived unbidden. But now that it was there, he was going to have a hell of a time trying to push it back out. “Grace. You need to let us look at your head.”
Unexpectedly, she nodded with all the pomp and circumstance of royalty. “Okay. But not him. You.”
She shot a glare at the ER doc that could have pierced steel.
The man’s brows went up, but he smiled. “Okay by me. We’ve been busy today.”
“I can do it,” Dax said. He would gladly sit here and stitch the area over her brow. Anything that would keep him from wondering if that boy in Patty’s locket…might be him.
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