The Challenger drove past the clinic all by itself. Smart car. Danny did a double take. The flowers from the doctor’s window boxes looked like the same kind that had been left on the inn’s back porch. Bingo. He knew he’d seen them somewhere. Wishing he drove something less noticeable, Danny found an alley to park in a block away. The streets were deserted, but he strolled back to the doc’s office in the shadows just in case anyone was looking out a window.

Danny stopped in the shadow of a thick shrub. Lights still glowed in the clinic windows. Dr. Chandler had said his office closed at five. Was the good doctor working late? Or was he up to deeds best done in the dark?

The front door opened. Someone hurried out. A woman, from the shape and movement of her shadow. She passed under a streetlight. Carolyn Fitzgerald. She was stuffing a small package into her purse. Interesting. She didn’t look terribly ill or injured or anything else that would cause the doctor to keep his office open late to see her. The real estate agent strode to her car, parked at the curb fifty yards down the street. The engine turned over, and the car pulled out into the street and headed away from town. Red taillights faded into the dark.

The clinic went dark room by room, starting at the front. A few minutes later, Danny watched an SUV pull out of the alley that ran next to the clinic.

Nothing moved, not even Danny. Patience was, if not a virtue, a necessity when casing an establishment. A cool night breeze shifted Danny’s evergreen screen. A car passed, the headlights sweeping within five feet of his feet. The street went silent and dark, and Danny emerged.

He opted for the back door. Did the doctor have a security system? Danny popped the locks, opened the door, and waited. The building remained quiet. Guess not.

He slipped through the door into the darkness of the hall. His eyes had already adjusted to the night. Danny borrowed a handful of latex gloves from the first exam room. Handy, with the breaking and entering and all. Snapping a pair on, he stuffed the extras in his pocket. Inside the doc’s office, Danny used his flashlight to illuminate the hanging files inside the cabinets. He searched three drawers before finding files for Nathan and his uncle.

Read them or steal them?

He did a quick perusal. Lots of info.

The overhead light snapped on. “What the fuck?”

Uh-oh.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“What part of patient confidentiality do you not understand?” Dr. Chandler glared from the doorway.

Danny closed the file and stood. “The part that might keep me from finding a killer.”

“Don’t you think that if I knew anything that might lead to Nathan’s arrest, I’d have told the police?”

“Well, I’d hope.”