Where There's Smoke (32 page)

Someone must have tipped the media that the Dr. Mallory who had first attended Letty Leonard was none other than the infamous slut Lara Porter.

As she had feared, parked outside her clinic were cars and vans designated with call letters.
 
When she pulled her car into the rear driveway, reporters swarmed her.
 
She shoved her way through them and entered the clinic via the back door, which Nancy was holding open for her.

"What in hell is going on?"
 
the nurse demanded as she slammed the door behind Lara.

"The rumor is out that the Leonards are suing me for malpractice."

"Have they lost their minds?"

"I'm sure they have.
 
To grief."

"These people," Nancy said, indicating the reporters just beyond the closed door, "and I use the term loosely, showed up about an hour ago and started pounding on the door.
 
l didn't know what to think.
 
The phone hasn't stopped ringing."
 
Sure enough, the phone rang.

"Don't answer "What do you want me to do, Dr.
 
Mallory?"

"Call Sheriff Baxter and ask him to remove these reporters from the premises.

"Can he do that?"

"He can keep them off my property.
 
They can still park in the street, which I'm sure they'll do.
 
For the next several days, we'll be under siege.
 
Maybe you ought to take this week off."

"Not on a bet.
 
I wouldn't desert you to fight off these jackals alone."
 
As Lara slipped out of her suit jacket, Nancy took it from her and noticed the damp lining.
 
"I've never seen you secrete a drop of sweat.
 
I doubted you even had sweat glands."

"That's nervous perspiration.
 
They ambushed me at the funeral."

"Those buzzards."

"Make up your mind.
 
Buzzards or jackals."
 
It was comforting to know she had retained her sense of humor.

"Doesn't matter.
 
They're both scavengers.
 
I ought to get Clem over here with his shotgun.
 
That would scatter them."

"I appreciate the gesture, but no thanks.
 
I don't need the bad publicity," Lara said grimly.
 
"Before I even got a foothold on being Dr. Mallory, a small-town, doctor, I'm once again Lara Porter, Clark Tackett's married lover.

Nancy's face reflected her regret.
 
"It's such a damn shame.
 
I'm sorry.

"Thanks.
 
I'll need all the friends I can get."
 
She sighed with consternation.
 
"I wasn't actually in hiding, but I didn't want my whereabouts publicized for fear that something like this would happen.

Someone deliberately stirred up this hornets' nest.
 
I don't believe for a moment that it evolved on its own."

"Tackett's the name.
 
Treachery's the game."

Lara looked sharply at her nurse.
 
"Key?"

Nancy shook her head.
 
"Isn't his style.
 
My guess is the old lady.

You're making headway here.
 
Not in leaps and bounds, but in baby steps.
 
She can't tolerate that.
 
Jody heard about that little girl dying, knew that you'd been the first attending doctor, and saw a chance to create a ruckus."

"She could have done that when I moved to town."

"But it would have come out that Clark set you up here.
 
That would have implied that he was still emotionally attached to you.

Jody didn't want to flatter you that much.
 
This time, Clark's out of the picture."

What Nancy said made sense.
 
Lara headed for her office.
 
"I doubt any patients will even attempt to get in today, but I'll be in my office if I'm needed."

She pulled down the window shades so she wouldn't have to witness the destruction of her lawn under the trampling feet of eager reporters.

Once seated at her desk, she consulted the telephone directory.
 
Her personality had undergone some drastic changes since that morning in Virginia.
 
She was older now, tougher, and she wasn't going to take persecution lying down.
 
Reaching for the phone, she dialed a number.

"Miss Janellen?"

"Bowie!
 
What are you doing here?"

She was seated at the kitchen table, staring at the telephone she'd just hung up.
 
He had poked his head around the door.
 
She signaled him in.

"Seems like I'm always sneaking up on you, pulling you out of deep thought.
 
I don't mean to."
 
He moved into the room, looking uneasy.

"The, uh, maid told me to come on back.
 
If this is a bad time for you

"No, it's all right.
 
I'm just surprised to see you here."

"I tried the office first, then the shop.
 
They told me there that you'd knocked off early today."

"My mother wasn't feeling well this morning when I left for work, and I was worried about her."
 
As usual, when in Bowie's presence, she felt tongue-tied.
 
She indicated one of the chairs across the kitchen table from her.
 
"Sit down.
 
I was about to have some tea.

Would you like some?"

"Tea?"
 
Dubiously he glanced at the steaming kettle on the stove.

"Hot tea?
 
It's a hundred degrees outside."

"I know, but, well, I like tea," she said with an apologetic shrug.

"It's soothing."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Something else then?
 
Lemonade?
 
A soft drink?
 
A beer?
 
Key keeps beer in the fridge."

"No, thanks.
 
Besides, I can't sit down.
 
I'm dirty."

He looked wonderful to her.
 
Until he called her attention to it, she hadn't noticed the dirt smeared on his jeans and shirt.
 
Hunks of it clung to the soles of his boots.
 
It was embedded in the grain of his leather work gloves, which he'd stuck into his belt, and his hat, too, was dusty.

"Don't be silly," Janellen said.
 
"Mama made my brothers work during their summer vacations.
 
They used to come in all sweaty and stinky not that you're stinky," she said hastily.
 
"I just meant that this kitchen was built for working men to .
 
you know, to enjoy and relax in."

Realizing that she was blabbering, she forced herself to stop.
 
"You obviously came here to discuss something with me, so sit down, please."

After a moment's hesitation, he lowered himself onto a kitchen chair, balancing his buttocks on the edge of the seat.

"Wouldn't you like something to drink?"
 
she repeated.

"Lemonade, I guess."
 
He cleared his throat.

"You were a million miles away when I came in," he remarked after taking a long swallow of his drink.

"I'd just had a very disturbing telephone call."
 
She debated whether she should discuss the call with him.
 
He was looking at her expectantly, and it would be a relief to talk about it with someone who was uninvolved and therefore impartial.

"Have you been following the story of the little girl from Eden Pass who almost lost her arm?"

"I heard she died."

"Yes.
 
Her funeral was today.
 
Such a tragedy."
 
She paused.
 
"The doctor who treated her for shock and took her to Tyler-" "Dr.

Mallory."

"Yes.
 
Well, she she called just now.
 
See, she was once my older brother was "I know."

She gave him a grateful smile.
 
"Then you can imagine how embarrassing and uncomfortable it's been for us to have her here in Eden Pass."

"How come?"

The question was totally unexpected, and for a moment she was taken aback.
 
"Because she brings back such bad memories for us."

He didn't seem convinced, so she felt compelled to explain.
 
"Lara Porter ruined Clark's political career."

Bowie cocked his head to one side and lightly scratched his neck as though ruminating on her point.
 
"She's not a husky old gal by any stretch.
 
I don't figure she could wrestle him down, strip him naked, and force him into bed with her, do you?"

This wasn't the first time Janellen had considered that, but only privately.
 
If she had verbalized her thoughts, Jody would have gone through the roof.

Prudently Janellen avoided further discussion in that direction.

"Somehow the media found out that Lara Porter is in Eden Pass, 160

Sanora Brown passing herself off as Dr. Mallory.
 
Apparently she was accosted by reporters at Letty Leonard's funeral this morning and had to call Sheriff Baxter to disperse those who've besieged her " Bowie smacked his lips with disgust.
 
"Imagine them disrupting that little girl's funeral like that."

"I know.
 
It was ghastly of them."
 
For a moment she reflected on the continuing turbulence caused by her brother's affair with Lara Mallory Porter.
 
"It's believed that the Leonards are going to file a medical malpractice suit against her," she told Bowie, then paused to take a deep breath.
 
"She thinks my mother is responsible."

"Is she?"

"You don't sound too sure.

Her fingertips brushed her lips once before moving to her blouse.

It didn't have buttons, so she fiddled with the fabric, then nervously laid her hand on the table near her untouched cup of tea.

"I don't know if she is or not," she admitted at last.
 
"Dr. Mallory called to speak to her.
 
Maydale told her that Mama was resting.
 
She wouldn't take no for an answer and demanded to speak to whoever was available."
 
She fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers.
 
"I wish Key had been here.
 
He's a pro when it comes to confrontation.
 
He would have known what to say to her."

"What did you say?"

"That I'm sure our family didn't cause her recent hardships."

"Think she bought that?"
 
Bowie asked skeptically.

"She said she doubts that I would be that spiteful, but that she wouldn't put anything past my mother or my brother."
 
In a small voice she added, "I'd hate to think they could be that cruel."

She stared into space for a moment, then returned her attention to her guest.
 
"I'm sorry, Bowie.
 
I didn't mean to take up your time with my family's problems.
 
What did you need to see me about?"

He rolled his shoulders.
 
"It's probably nothing.
 
In fact, I tried for several days to talk myself out of bothering you with it."
 
He had set his hat on the table.
 
Now he scooted it aside and leaned forward.

"You ever notice anything peculiar about well number seven?"

"No, should I?"

"Probably not, but I figured I had to get it off my chest.
 
See, it's not yielding as much natural gas as it should.
 
At least, that's my opinion.
 
Its production doesn't jive with comparable wells."