Monday's Child by Clare Revell

yesterday. I canna imagine why. Yer such a nice guy. Dave should have more friends like ye and keep in touch better. It must be a guy thing. I canna say I have any friends I dinna chat with almost daily, even friends from years ago.”
    Dave tugged at his wife’s arm. “I explained all that, love, but yer right. We all know how chatty ye women are, and yer already starting by digging information out of poor Luke here. I told ye, Luke and I met on an international case a few years back and have kept in touch via email off and on through the years. Never mentioned him because I dinna ever think he’d be able tae visit, him being in America and all. Now, we need tae go.”
    Luke saw them out and went back upstairs, glad he’d dodged that bullet. Lord, give me the help I need to keep Sara safe and to ward off as many questions as possible.

     
     
     
     

6
     
    Sara fixed her gaze on the view of the sea, imagining herself walking on the beach. She was so lost in her thoughts, the knock on the door made her jump. “Come in.”
    Luke crossed the room. “How are you doing?”
    “I’ve felt better, but I’m blaming the stress. So what’s happening?”
    “The doc’s on his way. He’s the police surgeon, so we don’t have to lie to him. Dave’s going to get the shopping done. Carole wanted to know why we need more bedding. I told her that your aunt wanted to come visit. She didn’t ask any questions, but she might wonder why your aunt, and not your parents.”
    Sara moved as Luke sat next to her and responded to the hint in his voice. He probably needed to know her background a bit more, since they were supposedly married and all. “My parents are dead. They died in a train crash when I was six.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Aunt Mary raised me. She’s all the family I have, and I can’t even contact her. Have you any idea how alone that makes me feel?”
    “Actually, I do.” Luke growled when the doorbell rang and then grinned. “I’ll be back.”
    Sara couldn’t bring herself to smile. Her gaze followed him across the room before she turned her attention back to the view from the window.
    Within seconds, voices sounded in the hall and then footsteps climbed the stairs. Sara turned over as the door opened. The two men stood there, one a stranger, resembling the picture of Doctor Foster in the nursery rhyme book she’d had as a child. Tall, with fair hair and steel gray eyes under his wire rimmed glasses, he wore a thick gray coat over a black suit and tie, clasping a black bag in his left hand. All he lacked was the black top hat.
    “Sara, this is Doctor Scott.” Luke turned to Scott. “Sara’s medical records will take a little while to get here, but headquarters can fax them to you if you go through Dave at the station.”
    Scott put the bag down and took off his coat and gloves, revealing a plain wedding band. “Nae problem. Can ye give me a brief history?”
    “I was shot in June. I spent three weeks in hospital having my leg put back together again, just like Humpty Dumpty.”
    “I don’t think the prior injuries tae yer leg would cause the symptoms ye describe. Can ye be more specific about how ye feel?”
    “The leftenant’s making a fuss over nothing.”
    Luke cleared his throat. “It’s Luke, not lieutenant.”
    “I said leftenant , and besides you were the one that said we don’t have to lie as Doctor Scott is the police surgeon and therefore knows the truth.” She returned her gaze to the doctor. “It’ll pass, Doctor. It always does.”
    Scott’s tone became insistent. “What will pass?”
    Sara sighed. How did she do this without Luke finding out her secret? “I feel sick until lunchtime. I can’t drink tea, and I get a lot of heartburn and leg cramps.” She took a deep breath. “I’m tired, but I’ve not been sleeping well because of the nightmares. It’s silly to waste your time like this. The leftenant shouldn’t have rung you.”
    Luke rolled his eyes. “You were