Page 12 of Nica (Texas Boudreau Brotherhood #17)

N ica drove too fast down Orchard Road, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

When the call had come earlier that morning, she’d been half asleep, and had gone looking for Gabe, because he wasn’t beside her when she woke.

Her mind still reeled with the news, a break-in at the medical clinic.

Gabe had barely muttered a goodbye before rushing out the door, leaving his coffee half-finished on the kitchen counter.

She hadn’t planned on following him. It would look odd if she showed up at the clinic when she wasn’t sick.

But then she remembered the anonymous phone calls he’d been receiving.

The ones threatening to expose Gabe’s past, to tell everyone about the controversial death of a patient when he was in California.

Threats to go to the press. It wouldn’t matter that Gabe had been cleared of any culpability in the woman’s death, the implication was more than enough—he’d not only lose the confidence of the citizens of Shiloh Springs, but he’d most likely lose patients.

Nica pulled into the clinic parking lot, surprised not to see Gabe’s green pickup among the collection of vehicles.

Two sheriff’s department cruisers were parked haphazardly near the front entrance, lights still flashing.

Through the open doorway she spotted Dusty Warner, her brother’s right-hand man at the sheriff’s station.

She couldn’t help wondering where Rafe was, because this was something big enough he’d want to investigate personally.

“So strange,” she murmured, glancing toward the clock on her dash. Gabe should have beaten her here by at least ten minutes.

The clinic’s automatic doors were propped open, and she could see several people inside.

When she walked through, she looked at the controlled chaos, along with multiple voices all seeming to be talking at once.

Patient files were scattered across the floor like fallen leaves.

The waiting room chairs had been upended, potted plants knocked over, soil spilling across the recently waxed linoleum.

Lisa Hartwell, the receptionist who’d worked at the clinic since Mrs. O’Malley retired, sat on the one upright chair, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

Dusty stood next to her, notepad in hand, his tanned face set in grim lines.

Two technicians in blue coveralls moved methodically around the space, checking surfaces for fingerprints and collecting evidence in small plastic bags.

She drew in a deep breath, trying to come to grips with the fact somebody had broken into the town’s only clinic.

The one old Doc Jenkins had managed since she’d been a kid with scraped knees or when she’d had strep throat.

In her mind, the clinic was sacrosanct, and to think somebody defiled it seemed inconceivable.

“Nica,” Dusty acknowledged with a nod when he spotted her. “Looking for Dr. Summers? Haven’t seen him yet. Rafe will be back in a bit, he had to run back to the station.”

Alarm bells rang in her mind. Why wasn’t Gabe here?

Had something happened to him? If somebody had the audacity of breaking into the clinic, would they have ambushed him on his way here?

She didn’t remember seeing his truck anywhere along the way, but she honestly hadn’t been paying attention, too focused on getting here.

Dusty shook his head. “Lisa got here, noticed the mess, and called 911.”

“I’m not—” Nica stopped herself, wondering why Dusty assumed she was looking for Gabe.

No one knew she and Gabe had eloped. As far as the town was concerned, she graduated with her master’s degree and came back home to decide what she wanted to do with her life.

There were sure to be shock waves throughout the county when the news came out that she was Mrs. Gabriel Summers.

“I just heard about the break-in. Thought I’d see if I could help. ”

Lisa looked up, her mascara smudged beneath red-rimmed eyes. “It’s awful, Nica. Just awful. Who would do something like this?”

“Any idea what they were after?” Nica asked, stepping carefully around the fallen coat rack.

“That’s the odd thing,” Dusty said, scratching his golden-blond hair. “Drug cabinet wasn’t touched. Lock’s still intact, which means they either weren’t after drugs, or got spooked before they could touch the drugs. This wasn’t your typical pharmacy heist.”

Nica turned to see Gabe stride in, her brother Rafe close behind him. Relief flooded through her at the sight of her husband, though she maintained her distance. Gabe’s eyes found hers immediately, a silent message passing between them— I’m okay.

“Dr. Summers,” Dusty greeted him. “Was wondering when you’d get here. Place is a mess.”

“Sorry for the delay,” Gabe said, his voice steady despite the tension evident in his jawline. “I stopped by the sheriff’s office first. Thought it best to bring Sheriff Boudreau up to speed on a few things that’ve been happening.”

Rafe showing up at the same time as Gabe made sense now.

As the town’s elected sheriff, her brother handled all the major cases in Shiloh Springs, covering the town and the entire county.

But something in the way he looked at her—a mixture of concern and something she couldn’t put her finger on—made Nica uneasy.

“Doc, you might want to take a look at what they did to your office,” Dusty said, gesturing toward the hallway. “And the message they left. Spray paint. On your wall.” Dusty hesitated. “It’s about somebody named Melissa Carpenter.”

The color drained from Gabe’s face and Nica fought her need to go over and hug him, promise everything was going to be okay.

She recognized the name, Melissa Carpenter, the same name she’d seen in the papers she’d received.

The one’s accusing her husband of murder.

The patient she’d talked with Gabe about the night before.

But clearly somebody meant to taunt Gabe, to torture him with echoes of the past. She watched his shoulders stiffen and his eyes darken.

“I need to see it,” he said, already moving toward the hallway that led to his office.

Nica moved to follow, but Rafe caught her arm, pulling her back.

“We need to talk,” her brother said quietly. “Now.”

“Rafe, I should—”

“He’ll be fine with Dusty.” Rafe’s grip on her arm tightened slightly. “What I have to say can’t wait.”

She recognized that look on her brother’s face.

Ten years her senior, Rafe had been more her big brother, her confidant, her second father who never failed to protect her, to offer advice, and keep her grounded and focused.

But when he used that tone, she knew there would be no avoiding whatever he needed to say to her.

Nica let him guide her to a quiet corner near the pharmacy counter, away from the technicians and Lisa’s quiet sobbing.

“What is it?” she asked, crossing her arms defensively.

“Gabe came to see me this morning,” Rafe began, his voice low. “Wanted to talk to me before heading over here to check out the break-in. He wanted to tell me about some anonymous threats he’s been receiving.”

Nica’s heart sank. Had Gabe told Rafe everything? “He did?”

“Someone’s been calling him, threatening to go public with information about an incident in California. Something that happened when he was performing surgery at Stanford.”

Nica’s mind raced. His past as a surgeon in California wasn’t an issue, not until some malevolent stranger made it one.

He’d left his prestigious position as a partner for a cardiothoracic surgical group at Stanford, where he was the rising star, the “golden boy” who everyone knew would become a leader in his field.

She knew the truth, but she couldn’t help wondering why he’d felt the need to share with Rafe.

“It would ruin his reputation.” Nica knew without Rafe saying a word what he meant. Small towns like Shiloh Springs thrived on gossip. Even unfounded rumors could devastate a medical career.

“There’s more,” Rafe continued, his gaze intensifying. The frown marring his face had Nica tensing, some sixth sense told her he was about to drop a bomb. “He told me about you two.”

Nica froze. “What about us?”

“The elopement, Nica. Three months ago, the two of you heading to Brazos County.” Rafe’s expression softened slightly. “He wanted me to know in case anything happens to him.”

She felt the blood rush to her face. Their secret—the hasty wedding after just a few months of dating, the decision to keep it quiet until they could figure out a way to break it to her parents—now exposed.

It had been her choice not to tell them; Gabe had wanted to talk to them the day they eloped.

Now, looking at the stony expression on her brother’s face, she wondered if she’d made a huge mistake.

“We were going to tell everyone,” she said weakly. “Eventually.”

“You’ve been married three months and didn’t tell Momma and Dad?” Rafe’s voice held a note of disappointment that stung worse than anger would have. “You know how much Momma has dreamed of the big white wedding for her only daughter. She wanted to see Dad walk you down the aisle.”

Guilt twisted in Nica’s stomach. “It’s complicated, Rafe.”

“Life’s full of complications, Sis. I’m giving you until tomorrow,” he said firmly. “Sunday dinner. You and Gabe are going to tell them.”

“Rafe—”

“No arguments. There are enough secrets in this mess without keeping your marriage from your family.” His expression softened. “Momma and Dad deserve to know their daughter is married, Nica, especially with whatever trouble your husband’s mixed up in.”

Before she could respond, a crash echoed from down the hallway, followed by Gabe’s voice, sharp with anger.

“I can’t believe they did this!”

Nica’s eyes met Rafe’s.