Page 6 of Blood (A Killer’s Love #4)

CHAPTER FIVE

Kaleb

The offices at the truck headquarters are a welcome sight. If I’m not out on the road, I’m working here.

“Can we wait in your car?” Sam asks as we walk into the main building.

“If you want, but it’s probably going to be warmer in here,” I warn as I wave to Pauline, our overnight manager.

Why didn’t I think of her earlier when I was rushing home? Or call the sheriff? Because I wanted to kill those responsible.

Being back in the office reminds me that a good release isn’t the only thing I didn’t get to do while out of town.

“I need to make a call. Go annoy Pauline.”

“I prefer to annoy you,” Sam sasses, giving me a mischievous smile.

“I know,” I tell her, knocking under her chin.

Little shit. My little shit.

We share a smirk, but after a few minutes, Sam spins on the spot and does as she was told, dragging Shelby with her.

I watch as they disappear into the office across from me before slipping into mine. The minute the door is closed, my smile drops.

The whore in the woods had been my plan for tonight, but I had somewhere to go before coming home.

Digging my cell out of the pocket of my pants, I cringe.

I’m already not in the mood for this asshole.

Watching through the internal window, I see the girls perch themselves on Pauline’s desk.

The older woman points at the radio system we use to communicate with our drivers and says something.

Both their faces light up. You’d think they were twelve, not twenty-two and twenty-three.

The sight relaxes me, and I make the call. He picks up on the fourth ring.

“This is Dr. Brown.”

“It’s Kaleb Cromwell.”

“Oh.”

I hear shuffling and a door close before he talks again.

“Why are you calling me?” he spits. “If anyone finds out, I could lose my license.”

So fucking dramatic. I roll my eyes.

“Have you got something for me or not?” I ask.

“Depends. What do you have for me?”

Greedy bastard.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I’m not in the fucking mood for you. I had a family emergency. I can’t come to your office this month.”

The prick huffs, and I can just imagine the horror on his face right now. His cash cow isn’t coming to town.

“What do you mean you’re not coming to my office this month?”

“What part of that sentence needs to be explained?” I snap.

The line goes dead. He did not!

Motherfucking . . .

This time, he picks up on the first ring, but I don’t give him the chance to speak.

“Do that again, and I will put you in your own fucking morgue.”

I hear him fumble for words.

“I-I-I just wanted you to realize that I’m serious. I need that money. My girlfriend’s pregnant again.”

I’m sure his wife is happy about that. This man disgusts me. Means to an end, Kaleb, you need him, I remind myself.

“I’ll pay double next month,” I offer.

“I need it now,” he whines.

I open my mouth to ask why he can’t wait—the baby isn’t going anywhere—but stop myself. I don’t care. Not about him, not about whatever fucking issues he’s having. What I care about is the information he has.

“So I’ll pay by card.”

“How do I explain that?”

“I don’t fucking care.”

Shelby sits in a chair next to Pauline, and they start doing paperwork together.

Maybe she needs a job. I make a mental note to check her finances again since it’s been a while. My family and I made sure she was okay after her father passed earlier this year, but she’s not been around the house as much since her stepmom moved out of town.

Losing one parent is hard, but two . . .

Pain fills my chest at the thought of losing Helen or Christopher. My eyes search for Sam.

“If you don’t have any money, I don’t have any information,” Brown says. His voice shakes, but there’s an undertone to it. He means it.

Shit!

My gaze finds the two women filling out forms.

“Bill me as a patient,” I suggest.

“What!”

“You’re a doctor, aren’t you? Bill me for a consultation or medication.” I shrug.

“I’m a coroner,” he replies dryly.

“Who also works as the town’s only doctor. It’s either that or you don’t get your money.”

A minute of silence stretches between us. This dick really thinks I didn’t check him out before approaching him three months ago.

“I don’t like it,” he finally adds.

And I don’t like you. The previous coroner had been honorable, a good man. His replacement, not so much. This one has a gambling addiction and morals for sale. I’m stuck with him for now. Once I find her, he might just go missing.

“And I don’t like paying ten thousand a month, yet here we are. Now, have you found anything?”

“I’ll have to charge more than normal, taxes and stuff,” he mumbles, still negotiating, but I’m done.

“I don’t care. Charge what you want. Did you find her?”

Sam fills my vision, waving at me through the office windows. My throat feels thick. Two women who I’m obsessed with and neither one that I can have.

The woman who birthed me and the woman I live for, my sister. Adopted or not, that’s what she is.

But I’m not adopted, am I? My birth mother hadn’t cared enough to find me after I ran from her pimp. And even with all the money and resources the Cromwells have, they’ve never been able to find her.

Didn’t help she would leave the game for whatever man wanted her, uprooting us from home to home, never staying for more than a year or two. If we were lucky.

And then there’s the fact that she might already be dead.

Blinking, I turn away from Sam.

Helen and Christopher took in an angry, scared boy and showed me love. My brothers showed me how to be at peace with who I am.

“No,” Brown says. “The states had thousands of Jane Does in the past ten years alone. I’ve only managed to check records going back a few years, but none of them match your description.”

“She’ll be different now.”

“I know, I know. I checked. I even widened the scope you gave me. No females between forty and fifty, which is what she’d be now. Well, one came into the hospital the week before last, but it wasn’t her.”

I’m actually going to kill him.

“Did you go look at her?”

“No!” he screeches. “You can’t just go around looking at dead people in other morgues. Not even in my job. I looked at the pictures on their system. I used to work there, and they never revoked my access.”

I know. It was the second reason I picked him. He can look at places others can’t.

“She was O negative. You said the woman who you’re looking for was AB positive. Right?”

“Yes.”

A memory of my mother being beaten by a John when I was seven assaults me. It had been bad, worse than usual. We’d had to go to the emergency room, and a sweet lady had let me sit at the nurses’ station and color. She’d complimented my neat coloring and steady hand; said I’d make a good doctor.

I smirk. She wasn’t wrong. I am good with knives and have even used a scalpel a few times. I’d seen my mother’s chart, colored on it. She was AB positive.

“Well, she can’t change that. It wasn’t her.” He pauses briefly before asking, “What billing info do you want to use?”

I roll my eyes and catch sight of Sam and Shelby heading this way. Great, now both of them are bored.

I reel off my home address and reach for my wallet. Flipping it open the same time Sam nudges the office door open just enough to poke her head in.

“Are you done?” she whispers.

I shake my head.

She pouts. “We’re hungry.”

“Hungry.” Shelby nods, her head appearing beneath Sam’s.

I raise a brow and point at Samantha. She knows what she’s doing. I hate people being hungry. Anyone. When you spend the first half of your childhood begging to be fed, it stays with you.

I never go hungry, and no one I love will either.

“We want waffles,” Sam says, but it sounds more like a question.

Shelby nods below her.

Is she kneeling on the floor? The thought makes me chuckle.

“Waffles,” Shelby sings.

Sam quickly joins in, “Waffles,” pushing the door farther open. She wiggles her arms like noodles and shakes her hips. She looks like a tube man.

Shelby laughs, and before I know it, I have two grown women dancing for waffles in my office doorway.

I hold up two fingers and mouth, “Two minutes.” But my smile softens the blow. They slowly back away, wiggling and whisper-singing waffles. Sam holds two fingers up and mouths back, “Two minutes,” as she closes the door.

I glance down to grab a card.

What the fuck?

An empty wallet stares back. Fucking cunt! I threw my wallet down beside the blonde before I tried to call my dad. Bitch! She took everything—cash and cards. The only thing in there is my driver’s license.

“Are you there?” the doctor asks.

“Yeah, one second.”

I riffle through my desk drawers until I find what I’m looking for. Bingo! Snapping the card up, I breathe a sigh of relief. “Change of address.”

I rattle off the company address and card details.

“Pleasure doing business with you. I’ll see you next month. Cash.”

I don’t reply. Instead, I give him a mental middle finger and hang up.

Heading out, I shoot a text to our accountant and ask him to cancel all of my cards and get me replacements ASAP.

Hurrying to the front door, I wave to Pauline. Time to feed my baby and her BFF.

I catch up to them quickly, squeezing my way between them. Once in front, I reenact their dance from in front of my office.

“Waffles, waffles, waffles,” I chant, waving my arms and sashaying my hips.

“I feel like we should be paying for this show.” Sam’s laughter gets louder when I wiggle more.

Rounding to the driver’s side, I unlock my car. “Banana and toffee,” I state, pointing at Sam. “Banana, toffee, and pecan,” I say, pointing at Shelby.

Buckling up, I call my favorite café through the car.

“Judy’s café, how can I help?”

“How’s my favorite girl?” My smile beams at the giggle that greets me.

“Better now that my favorite boy has called,” Judy sweet-talks me. The woman is probably close to eighty and still works her ass off.

“I’m going to tell your husband you said that,” I tease.

“Oh hush. He already knows. He’s my favorite man, and that’s all he cares about.”

Sam scrunches her nose. But I think it’s sweet. Even in their golden years, Judy and Duke are inseparable.

“I thought you were away driving for a few more days?”

“I was, but Charlie went into labor, so I’m needed for Sam and Shelby,” I explain.

“Ahh, say no more.”

Like the rest of the town, Judy knows how close our family is.

“What would my favorite customer like?”

I repeat the girls’ orders and then add on my own. “Strawberry waffles.”

“Extra strawberries, extra waffles,” Judy finishes for me.

“I’m feeling extra cream today too, please,” I add.

“Ohh.” Shelby sits forward in the back seat. “Can I have extra cream too, please?”

I raise a brow and point a finger at Sam, who shakes her head.

“Extra on the pecan one, please, Judy, for takeout.”

“You’re not coming in?” Judy asks, her voice tinged in disappointment. We do love to have a good gossip session when I’m back in town.

“Not today. It’s been a long night, and I need food and sleep.”

And a good fuck. But two out of three isn’t bad.

“Well, you head on around back, and I’ll bring it to you. No wait for you.”

“We’ll see you soon,” I say, ending the call.

Chants of, “Waffles, waffles, waffles,” fill the car as I take us across town. Clearly, we’re all desperate for sleep.

When we get there, Judy is waiting out back as promised.

Sam and Shelby stay in the car where it’s warm while I jump out to get our food.

Holding my arms out, I wrap Judy up in a solid hug. She’s the grandmother I never had.

“I hope you’re being careful with the burglaries happening.”

“Duke’s inside. Refused to let me come to work alone like I’m some kind of child. I’d like to see someone try to rob me.”

“I wouldn’t,” I whisper, pulling her in tighter. “Call me if you need me?”

Judy nods, patting my back. “You’re a good boy. I’d have had to bribe Junior to watch his sisters.”

“How do you know I wasn’t bribed?” I ask, pulling back.

Her palm is soft against my cheek. “Because I know you.”

Smiling, I raise my shoulders and give a sheepish look. “I’m not so good. I’m having a cash issue, and I’m out until I get new cards. Put it on my tab?” I plead, nodding down at the food bag.

“Tab?” she practically shrieks. “Kaleb Cromwell, you get to eat here for free. We’re here because of you,” she declares, waving her arm to show the building.

“You’re here because you’re the best cook in town. I just financed it. Selling out of Duke’s gas station just wasn’t doing it for me. I needed better access to your food. All day, every day. I may have helped you start, but you keep it alive.”

“Well, it still stands.”

“I’ll pay for it next time,” I promise, dropping a kiss on her left cheek. “Besides,” I call out on my way back to the car, “the amount I eat here, I’m your profit margin.”

Judy laughs, waving to the girls as we pull out and head home. Finally.