Murder in the Aisles by Olivia Hill Page B

desk in the tightly confined space.
    â€œI’m sorry. I…just remembered an important…meeting that I must attend.” She grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œWhoa…what the hell is going on? First you bug me to death about this disk. I get you the information. Get you in here for you to see for yourself and you suddenly realize that you have a meeting! Are you fucking with me or what?” His outrage had tinged his skin.
    â€œI’m sorry. I have to go!” She spun away and was a step short of actually racing down the hall.
    Mark jumped up behind her, but rather than follow her out, he stood in the doorway and watched her make a beeline for the exit.
    * * * * *
    The bite of the cold air helped. Rather than immediately get into her car, Felicia stood in front of it for a moment to make sure that the last of the attack had passed. It had been years since she’d had an episode like that. Therapy and mental exercises had helped tremendously. She’d gotten to a point in her life where that night was no longer the focal point of her existence but rather a shadow that she knew was there but was powerless to hurt her. She took a final look around, got in her vehicle and turned it on. Mark must think that she was a complete nutcase. A tear slid down her cheek. Maybe she was.

Chapter Twelve
    Conflicted, Mark walked back to his desk undecided about what to do. Should he call her or just leave it alone? The case was closed anyway. But clearly something was totally off-center with Felicia. Why was the question, and what brought it on? It must have been pretty powerful to get her to leave without even seeing what she’d come for, something that to her was vitally important. He ran his fingers through his close-cut hair, made a mental note that he needed a haircut and plopped down in his seat. He frowned in concentration and rewound the last few moments in a loop through his head and stopped when the filmstrip got to the part where he handed her the water. He’d looked right in her eyes and he’d seen that look hundreds of times in the eyes of victims. Terror .
    Eddie peered around from the side of his newspaper. “What happened with the good-looking doctor? I saw her fly out of here like she was being chased.”
    Mark linked his fingers behind his head and leaned, cautiously, back in his seat. “Wish I knew. One minute she was fine, the next,” he snapped his fingers, “gone.” He shook his head slowly.
    Eddie put his paper down, lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose and leaned forward. “Look, I’m not one to tell you how to run a case, but you know your ass will be in a sling if the captain finds out that you’re still pursuing a closed case with no cause.”
    â€œYeah, yeah, yeah,” he groused with a wave of his hand to swat the advice away. “I know that. But my gut is telling me that there’s more to this thing.”
    â€œYou sure it’s your gut and not your Johnson talking? A blind man could get turned on by her.”
    â€œSeriously, Eddie, seriously. That’s what you think of me?”
    Eddie gave a careless shrug and snapped his paper back open. “Only an observation.” He lowered the paper again and pointed a warning finger at Mark. “Just watch your ass and get some real evidence before this all blows up in your face. Because that would really piss me off if they threw you on desk duty and me back out on the street.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.” Mark pushed back from his desk. “I’m heading out.”
    â€œDon’t forget what I said.”
    â€œAs if you would let me. See you in the morning.” Mark checked his pocket for the disk and headed out.
    Mark jogged down the steps of the precinct building and double-timed it to his car. It had started to snow again. He couldn’t remember hearing the forecast but he sure as