The Final Goodbye Read online

  Mandy nodded.

  “Oh, wow. I didn’t know him personally, but he worked at the prison with my dad.”

  Almost everyone worked at either the prison or the hospital.

  Mandy sniffled. “Daniel said it’s my fault, but I did everything right. I-I don’t know what the hell happened.”

  “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?” She gave her forearm a gentle squeeze.

  “Let me sit on your couch for a bit while I get my head together?”

  “Yeah, of course. I don’t have another patient for an hour.” Riley stood and went to the small refrigerator on the other side of the room and grabbed a bottle of water.

  The hospital was within walking distance of Riley’s private practice, so Mandy usually made her way to Riley’s couch anytime she’d had a rough day.

  “Don’t listen to Daniel. He’s probably trying to pass the blame on to someone else.” She crossed the office and handed her the water.

  “Maybe, but sometimes he treats me like a child. It’s tough, you know. I’ve only been here for nine months, and starting as an intern this late in life isn’t easy.” She kept the bottle tight between her palms and stared at it in a daze. “He doesn’t treat the younger residents like this.”

  “Is it worse since we broke up?” Was Daniel that petty to take his anger about their breakup out on her best friend?

  Of course, when Mandy had moved from Phoenix earlier that year, and Riley had met her at the hospital fundraiser, Daniel had been against their friendship. He didn’t like her hanging out with his interns. He thought it’d be unprofessional.

  The man was too uptight.

  “He’s been a bit more agitated with me lately.” Mandy shrugged. “But, I don’t know, he’s like a grieving widow or something ever since you two split.” Her long, sweeping lashes lifted, dampened by tears, and she met Riley’s gaze as she positioned herself next to her.

  Riley grumbled. “He’s been relentless in trying to get me back, and I just don’t have the energy for it to be honest.” She sighed. “It’s been over a month since we broke up, and he still sends flowers.”

  “You’re lucky to have a man like him so in love with you,” Mandy noted softly.

  “Maybe, but I’m sorry if my breakup is impacting your work life.” She made a mental note to talk to him the next time he called, which would probably be around 8 p.m.—like every other night.

  “It’s fine. The guy just misses you. He’ll hopefully get over it.”

  “Hope so.” Riley forced a stiff smile. “But, um, how are things with you and Bobby?” She wanted to take Mandy’s mind off her loss, if even for a moment. “Or are you still contemplating one of the many other daily proposals you get?”

  Five-nine, long brownish-black hair, a fit and toned body that would make twenty-year-olds jealous—Mandy had both staff and patients hitting on her all of the time, and it drove her nuts. She wanted to be admired for her brains and surgical skills, not because her boobs could barely be restrained by her double D bra.

  Last week, Mandy had joked that they should quit their medical careers and go into modeling. She usually talked her off the modeling cliff for about a week before another handsy patient pissed her off to the point where she wanted to, in her words, use her scalpel on his penis.

  The bad thing about their small town was there weren’t a lot of single women, especially ones that looked like Mandy and Riley.

  Riley hated thinking of herself as beautiful, though. She didn’t mind being pretty or gorgeous, but beautiful was a word she’d stripped from her vocabulary fourteen years ago when her best friend had abandoned her.

  He’d always called her beautiful, and after he left, she cringed whenever the adjective was used toward her. The word becoming like a knife to the heart.

  “I don’t think Bobby and I are going to work out.”

  Riley blinked away her thoughts. “Oh, no. Why not? Are you still worried about the age difference? Or, do you have issues that he’s a paramedic and not a doctor?”

  Riley would take a man with a great sense of humor over the MD initials any day. Daniel had fallen short on the ability to make her belly-laugh.

  “Not really.”

  “So, what is it?”

  “There are hospital rumors that he’s sleeping with someone.” She cupped the back of her neck and looked at the ceiling.

  “Maybe that someone is you.”

  “Funny.” But it did get her to smile. “Two nurses said they caught him making out in the supply closet with another doctor. And, for clarification, that doc wasn’t me.”

  “Jesus. Are you on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy?”

  Mandy chuckled. “Sometimes I feel like it, although I’m still waiting for my McDreamy.”

  “Yeah, well, spoiler alert: that doctor died.” Riley nudged her in the side. “We’ll go for drinks tonight and get sloppy drunk. How about that?”

  “Yes, that’d be—” Mandy cut herself off at the sound of the office line ringing.

  Riley went over and checked the caller ID. It was her mom. It was doubtful she already knew about Phillip Sanderson’s death, which meant it probably wasn’t why she was calling.

  The worrier in her could never transfer her mom to voicemail, so she shot Mandy an apologetic look and answered, “What’s up, Mom?”

  “You’re going to want to sit to hear what I have to say,” she said in a rush.

  The last time her mom told her to sit was years ago when she informed Riley that her ex-best friend, Ben Logan, had been injured playing baseball. And it had been news that she didn’t, in fact, need to sit for.

  “Spit it out, Mom.” She scratched her short pink nails against the side of her face, impatient.

  “Ralph was killed last night. They found his body this morning.”

  “Say that again.” Surely she hadn’t heard her mom correctly.

  “Murdered. He was murdered, baby girl.”

  She hated when her mom called her that, but . . . wait—what?

  The room started to spin, and little black dots fell like snowflakes before her eyes. What was happening?

  She was on her knees, palms to the floor, gathering oxygen into her lungs with deep breaths.

  “You okay?” Mandy pressed a hand to her back.

  “Shit. I—” Her eyes welled.

  “Riley!” Her mother’s voice sang loudly through the phone that rested near her hand.

  Mandy snatched the cell off the ground. “Mrs. Carpenter, she’ll need to call you back.”

  Ralph was dead.

  Murdered.

  But that wasn’t possible.

  Who would kill him?

  “What happened?” Mandy helped Riley over to the couch, and this time, she was the one getting some water for her.

  Riley polished off nearly the entire bottle before she could think again. She was still processing.

  It’d been years since she’d gone through the stages of grief, and she wasn’t prepared to do it again.

  “Ralph’s dead.”

  “What?” A sharp gasp left Mandy’s mouth. “How?”

  “Killed.” The word sounded foreign on her tongue. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t possibly be real. Her shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t know how, but I sure as hell need some answers.”

  Chapter Three

  Whispered voices and sad eyes—it was a contrast to the bright sunflowers adorning the room.

  Pops of white and yellow were arranged in elaborate bouquets all over the place. They were Ralph’s mother’s favorite flower, and so they’d been his favorite, too. At least, that’s what he’d once told Riley, which was why she’d always brought them over whenever she had visited.

  Most of the town had forgotten about Ralph after he lost his son, and it had broken Riley’s heart.

  She didn’t regret her decision to forgo a great offer at a hospital in D.C. when her fellowship had ended. She’d turned it down so she could be near family, and so Ralp
h would know he had someone he could count on. Of course, Ralph never knew her decision had been, in part, because of him.

  But now he was dead.

  Murdered.

  And for what?

  He had a doctorate in psychology, but when Nate had died, he’d resigned from his professor position in Birmingham and taught at a local community college three nights a week.

  The police still hadn’t released the details about the murder, and Ralph’s body had been held up for a week, delaying the wake until today.

  As much as she wanted to know how and why he had been killed, she also couldn’t stomach the idea of hearing the details.

  He’d been murdered in his office at the college, but his home had been closed off by the homicide detective in charge, which meant they’d been looking for something. Maybe for answers.

  She had planned on holding the wake at her apartment, but then the detective officially cleared Ralph’s home. And in a mad haste, she decided it’d be more appropriate to have the gathering where he’d lived for the last thirty years.

  She scanned the room, and goose bumps scattered over her skin at the sight of the urn, positioned alongside a framed photo of Ralph.

  It was simple. Not too flashy. Pewter with a Grecian feel; it was crafted from solid brass and accented with three deep ebony lines. The urn could hold the ashes of a person who weighed up to two hundred pounds, she’d been told—and had wanted to throw up instantly.

  “On sale for ninety-nine dollars, too,” the elderly man had said when selling it to her as if price mattered. How much was a vase really worth if it held the ashes of someone you loved? Could you put a price on such a thing?

  Her stomach knotted, and she looked at Ralph’s picture, such a reminder of the boyfriend she’d once lost. The same blond hair and eyebrows as Nate. The same green eyes and freckles on his nose.

  It had been difficult to spend time with Ralph right after Nate’s death. They’d looked too alike; plus, it hadn’t helped that every wall served as a memorial to Nate and that most pictures included herself and Ben.

  Ralph had never spoken ill of Ben. He even wanted her to forgive him for leaving.

  Cowardly—that’s all she could think when she thought about Ben.

  Sure, he’d taken off to join the Marines instead of going to college—and being a coward is a contradictory term related to the military, but still . . . he’d left.

  Sudden chills skated down her spine when she realized her ex was standing next to her. His black hair was perfectly gelled and styled, his hard jaw tight like always, and his muscular body filled out the tailored black suit to perfection.

  He was attractive, she couldn’t deny that. And he was a genius, already on his way to becoming the chief of surgery. Of course, it was a step down compared to the job he’d said no to in Cleveland. Refusing to move with him had been the final blow to their relationship.

  “You didn’t need to come.” She surveyed the crowded room, taking note of the people that had abandoned Ralph over the years only to show up too late.

  “I’m paying my respects.” Daniel’s hand rested on the small of her back. “He was your friend, so I wanted to be here for you.”

  “Well, thank you.” Sorrow thickened her throat, making it hard to swallow.

  “How are you holding up?” He rubbed his hand up and down her back in soft strokes.

  “Not great.”

  “You know I’m here for you if you ever need anything.” His hand slipped up to her shoulder, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Like, if you want help packing up his home. Or you just want to talk.”

  She pressed her lips together in a tight-lipped smile. “Maybe.”

  And that’s when she saw them—Ben’s parents.

  It had been excuse after excuse from them as to why he never came home.

  Deployed.

  Playing pro ball.

  Running a security firm in Vegas.

  Always busy. Always too important to be bothered with their small-town life.

  His mom’s long, brown hair was up in a bun, her brown eyes enhanced by dark black liner, her long lashes a reminder of Ben’s. And his dad—he was a spitting image of her ex-best friend. Tall, broad-shouldered, fit, with short black hair and the same blue eyes.

  In the summer of ’85, Riley, Nate, and Ben had been born. On the same day. On the same morning. They’d shared some sort of special bond and had been nearly inseparable since the moment they’d left the hospital.

  And when Nate’s mom had died of cancer, Ben and Riley had been his rock. They’d helped a six-year-old through the roughest time of his life.

  She blinked back more tears as the memories created a fresh wave of pain.

  “Riley?” Daniel arrested her attention from her ocean-deep thoughts, saving her from drowning in the past.

  God, Mandy was right, wasn’t she? The man really did love her. Why couldn’t she love him back?

  Her drunken one-night stand two weeks ago proved she didn’t have any lingering feelings for Daniel. Her only regret was choice in rebound. Patrick was a surgeon who worked on the same floor as Daniel.

  She doubted Daniel had found out about it, though, or he wouldn’t be so friendly right now.

  Maybe it was time for her to move. To start over in a new city with new people.

  With Ralph gone . . . why not? He’d been one of the reasons she’d turned down Daniel’s request to move to Cleveland, but now, was there anything stopping her from leaving?

  Sure, she had her parents here, but they’d always wanted more for her. They still had high hopes she’d become a big-city doctor in D.C. or Atlanta.

  Riley caught sight of Mandy coming into the room, and Bobby trailed behind. He stopped to talk to a professor who had worked with Ralph.

  “Could you be nicer to Mandy, please? Don’t give her such a hard time.” Her eyes landed back on Daniel’s, and she lifted her brows, waiting for an answer.

  His gaze hardened. “If I’m tough on her, it’s to make her a better surgeon. She’s ten years older than the rest of my doctors.”

  “So, she has to work twice as hard? That’s bullshit, and you know it.” She cursed again when she realized she’d drawn attention from the room. “I need some air. We can talk about this later, I guess.”

  She sidestepped him and approached Mandy. “Hey, you came with Bobby?”

  “No, we just arrived at the same time. I didn’t even know he knew Ralph.”

  She didn’t remember Bobby ever hanging out with Nate back in school, but maybe it was possible. And then, Bobby had joined the military, just like Ben, after graduation. But unlike Ben, he’d come back home.

  “Looks like Daniel came, too, huh?”

  “Yeah, for support.” The intensity of the day had been chipping away at her, and now she wasn’t sure if she had the energy to make it until sunset. “But, uh, I need to splash some water on my face before I lose my mind. Sorry.”

  “Of course. If you need anything, let me know.”

  “Thanks.” She took off toward the nearest bathroom. The door handle rattled as she gripped and shook it.

  “Occupied,” someone called out.

  Shit. She’d use the upstairs one. She was too frazzled and impatient to wait.

  Her heels clicked on the wooden steps as she went up the old, creaky stairs.

  The bathroom was the first door on the right. She hadn’t been upstairs since Nate’s death, but she still remembered her way around.

  She heard a faint sound coming from down the hall, so she paused outside the bathroom and continued to listen.

  Her stomach folded in on itself when she realized she wasn’t alone. Pivoting, she started in the direction of the noise, walking down the hall with careful steps, but her heels on the wood floors made for a bad combination.

  Once outside Nate’s door, her heart crawled up into her throat at the sight of someone inside.

  What if he was the killer, and he was there looking for something?


  But . . . the man was holding a framed photo. Although his back was to her, his head was tipped forward as if in mourning.

  He had black hair that brushed against the collar of his blazer. Long legs were covered in dark slacks, and broad shoulders filled out the jacket.

  She worked up her nerve and took a small step into the room, her heart pounding so loud it was in her ears.

  “You should leave. Ralph wouldn’t want you in here.” Her pulse continued to quicken as a large hand set the frame back on top of the dresser.

  “Been a long time, Ri.”

  At the sound of the husky voice, she staggered back into the hallway.

  It was as if she were in quicksand and sinking fast.

  Her mind blew to the past, to their shared seventeenth birthday.

  “Friends, forever? No matter what?” she asked Ben and stared into his blue eyes.

  “Ri, nothing could tear us apart. You, me, and Nate—they’ll have to bury us together,” he answered.

  No . . . “Don’t call me that.” She hated that her voice trembled as the words nearly bled from her lips.

  Her eyes squeezed closed, and her hands seized hold of her stomach as if she might fall forward and throw up.

  “It’s Dr. Carpenter, now,” she said wryly after a minute of silence swept through the room, almost cooling her now flushed skin.

  She couldn’t open her eyes because then this would become real.

  Ben Logan would be standing in front of her.

  She wanted to edge back even more, but she couldn’t get herself to move.

  She was trapped in a sea of memories.

  Pillow fights, stargazing, late-night swims in the lake, beach vacations, and to the very last time she saw him, which was seven years ago. Of course, Ben hadn’t seen her then.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” She loosened the words from her throat and hoped she’d delivered them with the necessary punch.

  “I know,” he said in a flat tone.

  When her eyes opened, she couldn’t stop herself from taking all of him in as if she’d never seen him before.

  Fourteen years had turned him from a teenager into a man.

  Muscles where there hadn’t been.