When the Wind Blows Read Online Free Page B

practice slide.
    It took him less than three minutes to get back to the animal hospital. The Inn-Patient, as she called it. This was where
     it would really start for him.
    There was a bright light burning on the front porch, and a shimmering, yellowish light in a window on one side of the house.
     A Manx cat sat guard at one of the other windows, eyeballing him suspiciously, not moving a whisker.
    He stopped to catch his breath, or maybe just to stop his heart from racing so much. He checked to see if anybody else was
     out there with him.
    He needed to forage around inside the animal hospital—but probably not tonight. He passed close behind a matching pair of
     tall pines. He was less than ten feet from one of the brightly lit windows.
    He jumped back suddenly.
    Jesus! She had scared the hell out of him.
    Frannie O’Neill was standing right there in the window, framed in soft light. She was naked as the day she was born. He sucked
     in a quick breath. It was the last thing he’d expected to see. Like being poked in the eye.
    She didn’t see him, thank God. She was busy drying her long brown hair with a fluffy white towel. Pretty hair. Pretty everything,
     in fact.
    She was a whole lot more attractive than she made herself out to be. Very pretty, very alive eyes. Slender, and in good shape.
     Seriously good shape, actually. Her skin had a healthy glow. She was thirty-three, he remembered from his notes. Her husband,
     Dr. David Mekin, had been thirty-eight when he died. When he was murdered.
    Kit turned away. She was still up, so there was no way he could check out the house tonight. He didn’t want to spy on a naked
     Dr. O’Neill from outside her bedroom window. It made him feel like a creepy little shit. No matter what else he might be,
     he wasn’t a Peeping Tom.
    He made his way back to the cabin—with the image of Frannie O’Neill still on his mind. Actually, she was
burned
into his optic nerve. Her eyes had a special glint that hinted at a sense of humor he hadn’t experienced during their initial
     meeting. She was definitely prettier than he’d expected her to be.
    And she might be a murderer.

Chapter 8
    T UESDAY MORNING was finally here.
    Anne Hutton had been waiting on pins and needles, but right now she felt fine, strangely relaxed and ready.
    Actually, Annie Hutton had a high level of comfort and well-being whenever she visited the in vitro clinic at Boulder Community
     Hospital. The staff at the clinic seemed to have thought of everything and its potential negative or positive effect on mothers-to-be.
     They were just super and she was fortunate to be working with them.
    The toney waiting room had warm yellow walls with bright white trim. There always seemed to be freshly cut flowers. And an
     array of all the right magazines, current issues, too
:Mirabella, AD, Town & Country, Parents, Child.
    Best of all was the “up,” positive, well-trained staff, and especially her doctor, John Brownhill. Dr. B. was talking to her
     now, asking all the requisite questions during her eight-month checkup. He seemed so
interested
in how she was feeling. Was she experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions, anything unusual?
    “No, everything is fine, knock on wood,” Annie said. She smiled positively, mirrored the confidence she felt from him and
     the rest of the staff.
    Dr. B. smiled back. Not too much, not condescending or anything like that, just right. “That’s great. Let’s run a few tests
     and get you out of here in time for the ‘Rosie’ show.”
    Annie knew that in spite of how relatively chipper she felt, she was still a high-risk patient. Dr. Brownhill told her she
     had insufficient placenta. On this visit, Dr. Brownhill and his nurse, Jilly, were going to use a fetal heart monitor to check
     the level of stress to the fetus during contractions. The idea of the FHM test made her a little nervous, but she tried to
     be as upbeat as her doctor and nurse.
    Jilly squeezed electro-conductor jelly onto