“As a matter of fact, I was.”
Brady let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that oughta do it.”
“Gavin has that effect,” Hayley agreed blandly.
Just the thought of having the world-famous attorney on his side was heartening. But then something more important occurred to him. “If they end up pushing the criminal side of this, Ashley might need some legal help.”
Quinn nodded. “She’ll have it.”
And Brady stopped his pacing and sat down, marveling at the whims of fate. The Foxworths’ arrival at the scene of Ashley’s accident had been the most serious case of right place, right time he’d ever encountered.
Chapter 18
Brady was glad for the warning Dunbar had given him not to think too much about how Foxworth got things done. But surely Andrew Jordan’s own child would have the right to access his records? And she’d given them permission, so perhaps it wasn’t a violation to be sitting here reading about a man long gone.
But more disturbing, to him, were the similarities between the cases of father and daughter. The same sort of deterioration, from occasional breaks in stability to progressively more serious problems with confusion, memory and perception.
“We’re working on the official report on the suicide,” Quinn began, but Brady shook his head.
“Don’t bother. I read it.”
Quinn gave him an assessing look. “So your gut’s been talking back on this for a while, then.”
He didn’t see any point in denying that he’d dug into this more than he normally would. He just hoped they didn’t push for an answer beyond that gut feeling, because he was afraid he didn’t have one. At least, not an answer that didn’t involve emotions that, in his experience, did more to cloud judgment than hone it.
“Yes. He was found in his den, one gunshot to the head, gun on the floor beside him, only his prints on the weapon.” He hesitated, then realized he was already in so deep it would hardly matter. “It was cut-and-dried. Nothing unexpected or odd. And with the supplemental, it was pretty clear.”
The supplemental report was an addendum to the official report, and it was often held back and kept confidential for varied reasons. In this case it was speculation on the impetus for Andrew Jordan’s suicide. Quinn didn’t push, which made it easier for Brady to go on. “Apparently the shrink—Dr. Andler—was going to have him committed.”
“Involuntary?” Quinn asked. Brady nodded. “He could have fought that.”
Brady sighed. “Maybe he didn’t have any fight left in him by then. He’d been going steadily downhill for nearly a year.” He met Quinn’s gaze then. “Ashley said she could never understand why he did it...until she reached that point herself.”
“There are a lot of similarities between their situations,” Quinn said.
“Yes.”
Logic told Brady that the mental problem that had driven Ashley’s father to take his own life could indeed be something hereditary, some genetic quirk passed on from father to daughter. And with that admission came images, imaginings he could well have done without, of arriving at the lookout too late, of her broken, lifeless body at the bottom of the drop-off.
He suppressed a shudder, a reaction that was a warning in itself.
Just means your looks have to carry more of the load.
Not a problem for him.
If he’d needed any further proof that he was tumbling down a rabbit hole, Hayley and Ashley’s teasing exchange slamming into his mind just then would have sufficed. The simple fact that his pulse had kicked up and his stomach had knotted at the idea that she liked his looks was a warning that screamed far louder than that little voice in the back of his mind.
He felt the sudden urge to bail on this whole thing, to grab his stuff and get out. Go home, where he should have been and stayed. If he’d gone straight there Sunday night, he never would have gotten sucked into this.
And Ashley would be dead. Lying crumpled and broken and probably frozen by now. A lump of dead meat, with no life in those vivid green eyes.
He felt a nudge—a wet one—on his hand. Looked to see Cutter there, staring at him with those uncannily clever eyes. Again the dark nose nudged, harder, until he wasn’t sure if he’d lifted his hand to the dog’s head or the animal had just managed to slide his head under his fingers. And it was second nature to give the dog what he wanted, so he stroked the soft fur.
Only then did he remember his earlier thoughts about how odd it was that petting Cutter seemed to make problems fade. Petting any dog helped, but this one was...different. He felt the peace steal over him, as if the animal were somehow communicating that everything would be all right. As if he had a certainty his human companions lacked about how things would turn out.
“So we follow your lead and everything comes up roses, is that it?” he murmured to the dog.
The dog made a low sound that sounded oddly like approval and followed it with a tilt of his head and a swipe of his tongue over Brady’s wrist. He couldn’t help smiling and gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. Cutter sighed happily and leaned into the touch.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” Hayley said. “How much better he makes you feel?”
Brady could only shake his head in wonder. “Where’d you find this guy?”
She sat down beside him. “I didn’t. He found me.” He raised a brow at her. “He just turned up one day on my doorstep. At a bad time in my life. I’d just lost my mother.”
“Damn.”
“Yes,” Hayley said simply. “I genuinely tried to find his owner, ran ads, made calls, but by the time it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, I couldn’t imagine going on without him.”
“So he stayed.”
“I don’t think I could have gotten him to leave if I tried.”
“He can obviously be very...determined.”
“And persistent.”
“Like the Colorado River was persistent?” he asked dryly.
“Carving out the Grand Canyon?” Hayley grinned at him. “Exactly like.”
Brady looked back at the dog, who now was looking at him with his head tilted and what looked absurdly like a smile. If he were human, Brady would have said it was a “Good, you finally figured it out!” expression.
But he was only a dog.
* * *
“Dr. Sebastian is...very different,” Ashley said.
“From Dr. Andler?” Hayley asked, and Ashley nodded. “How so?”
She glanced at Brady, whose jaw was tight, as if he were keeping his mouth shut with an effort. It nearly made her smile, because she knew his opinion of Dr. Andler and could only imagine what he’d be saying if he did speak.
She felt a little guilty for saying it, but Dr. Sebastian had impressed upon her the importance of being honest with them. “She listens. Truly listens. Dr. Andler mostly talked. And...he basically assumed he knew what was wrong with me. That it was the same thing as my father. She did not.”
And the woman had made her feel better after one encounter, online, than Dr. Andler ever had. Admittedly, it had been one three-hour session, but still. Ashley wondered what the doctor and Quinn were discussing back in the media room—Brady’s bedroom. She’d given her consent for full disclosure, and the doctor had asked for a private moment with Quinn.
“She’s very aware how easy it is to misinterpret or miss things altogether,” Hayley said. “From personal experience.”
Ashley gave the woman a steady look, wanting her to know she was able to talk about this rationally. “I gathered. She told me about her son. That he killed himself at seventeen.”
Hayley’s expression was sad. “It was tragic.”
“She said she blamed herself for missing the signs. That it’s what led her to specialize in at-risk patients.”
“Yes. And she’s helped a great many.”
“She also told me what Foxworth did for her.”
Hayley nodded. “That was Liam Burnett and Ty Hewitt. They dug deep, Ty online and Liam on the street.” She smiled. “Liam can look like a teenager if necessary, and he used that to good effect.”
“She said they found a friend of her son’s who was able to help explain what had happened, and who told her that the only reason he made it as long as he did was because he didn’t want to hurt his mother. That he’d loved her and knew she loved him. It didn’t make it right, but it helped her heal a little. Gave her a reason she could accept, even amid the grief.”
“And now she’s helping Foxworth?” Brady asked. “Because of that?”
Hayley turned to look at him. “Yes. It’s how we work, since we don’t charge money for what we do.”
“Only in help for someone else down the line?”
Hayley nodded. Ashley found herself watching Brady rather intently, curious what his reaction would be. And felt a sweet sort of warmth when he shook his head almost in wonder, and there was a matching tone in his voice when he spoke.
“That’s enough to almost give me hope for the human race,” he said.
“Another reason we do it,” Hayley said. “So people like you don’t lose hope.”
He blinked. “Like me?”
“The good guys,” Ashley said.
Brady’s gaze shot to her face, but before he could speak, Quinn was there. He walked over to Hayley and brushed his fingers over her cheek. Ashley had noticed he always did that when he’d been away, even if it was only in the next room—he went to his wife and made contact in some way, a hand on her shoulder, a touch to her hand or that brushing of fingers. As if it were his way of assuring the connection between them was still there, still strong. And Ashley felt a hollow sort of ache inside, both at having never known that kind of link with someone and at how close she’d come to throwing away even the chance for it someday.
And she managed not to look at Brady as that thought crystallized, and along with it the acknowledgment that the closest she’d ever come was when she’d been in his arms. Those moments on the patio, in that snow-secluded spot, had become a touchstone amid the chaos. She’d wanted more, so much more. She’d wanted him to kiss her, for starters, and wanted that to be just that, only the start.
But he’d pulled away. And when she protested, asking if he didn’t want what she did, he’d quietly said, “What I want doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m not taking advantage of the situation.”
And she’d known then he was indeed what she’d just called him. One of the good guys.
Chapter 19
“Obviously it would take more than one session, but Dr. Sebastian says she would question your situation enough to ask to see your records,” Quinn said.
Brady saw hope flare in Ashley’s eyes again and felt a gut-deep hope of his own, that they weren’t building dreams that would turn into more nightmares for her. Even as he thought it, the flare faded and her brow furrowed.
“But why would she think anything different than Dr. Andler, given my father’s history?”
“That’s just it,” Hayley said. “She didn’t know your father’s history beforehand.”
Brady went still. Said slowly, “So she didn’t go in expecting to find the same thing.”
“Exactly,” Quinn said. “That doesn’t mean it’s not there, but it’s human nature to find what you expect to find.”
“I thought that’s what all that education was supposed to beat out of you,” Brady said dryly. Ashley laughed, and he felt an odd tingle down his spine.
“Dr. Sebastian would agree, I think,” Hayley said with a smile.
“She did say,” Quinn added, “that if she had to judge based on this one session, she would greatly hesitate to put you on medication just now. She believes in spending enough time looking for the source of the problem before deciding on that.”
Ashley’s brow furrowed again. “Dr. Andler put me on meds after our first session. In fact, he had it ready there in his office, he was so certain I’d need it.”
“He dispensed it? Directly?” Quinn asked.
“Yes.”
“He can do that?” Hayley asked in turn.
“Any licensed physician in the state can, and without a pharmacy permit,” Brady said. He grimaced. “It’s a big added revenue stream for a lot of them.”
Quinn looked thoughtful. “Does he charge more than a pharmacy?”
Ashley looked embarrassed. “I don’t know. My mother takes care of the bill and often picks up the pills for me, since his office is right down from city hall.”
Now that was a thought, Brady mused. He wasn’t sure exactly what the possibility meant in relation to Ashley, but it was a blip on the radar, and he noted it. Psychiatrist as drug dealer. Pushing pills for profit. It was a refrain he’d heard before.
“Are you seeing this guy because you trust him or because your mother does?” Brady hadn’t meant it to sound like an accusation, but that’s how it came out. He was usually pretty good at questioning people, at taking the right approach, the right tone, but he seemed to have lost the knack with her.
“I...trust him,” she said, but he didn’t miss the hesitation.
“Why?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Why do you trust him? For that matter, why does your mother? He didn’t save your father.”
She drew herself up and faced him steadily despite his tone. And the part of him that wasn’t trying to figure out why he was suddenly pushing her was cheering for that.
“Sometimes there’s no saving someone. Or you’re too late. If you hadn’t arrived in time to stop me the other night, should my mother have blamed you?”
I would have. “That’s different,” he muttered.
“Why? Some would say you both failed at your job.”
“I would say that,” he snapped.
“I know.” She said it softly, quietly, but his anger, or whatever this was, drained away as surely as if she’d punctured him with the words. Somehow she had turned it all around on him.
He heard a low chuckle and looked up to see Quinn smiling. “She’s got teeth. Good to know.”
“Good to see.” He said it as quietly as she had spoken. And he meant it; it was very good to see that spirit in her, see her stand her ground. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that color tinged her cheeks at his words. As if they’d pleased her.
“Now what?” she asked Quinn.
“Dr. Sebastian will be going over your father’s records. Just to see if anything strikes her beyond the obvious similarities.”
“You mean she’s going to decide if Dr. Andler is right in assuming I have the same problem?”
“She’ll give us her opinion, always limited by the fact that she’s only had this short time with you, and not in person.”
“Does that make a big difference, not being in the same room with her?” Brady asked.
“It can,” Hayley answered. “Dr. Sebastian is amazingly adept at reading people, but that’s a talent better utilized face-to-face.” Brady lowered his gaze to his hands, to where his fingers were tapping restlessly on the arm of the chair he was in. “And yes,” Hayley added quietly, “she blames herself for not reading her son in time.”
Brady grimaced. “Was I that obvious?”
“Only to be expected, given your recent...discussion,” she answered, with a glance at Ashley.
He was saved from having to answer by the ringing of his cell phone. It was on the kitchen counter, so he got up to get it while Hayley rose and went to open the door for Cutter, who had been outside.
A glance at the screen told him it was the detective lieutenant. And for the first time in his career, he hesitated in answering a call from a superior. Because usually vacation days were inviolate, unless the int
erruption involved an active case. And while it could be any of a number of things, the most likely one was sitting across the room from him right now.
He closed his eyes for a moment as he let it ring, his jaw tight as he fought the instincts and training of ten years on the job. The ringing stopped as it went over to voice mail. He tried to tell himself he’d listen immediately, but that didn’t ease the knot in his gut.
Quinn came up beside him. “I once ignored a call from an area commander because I knew it would be a kill order on a guy we’d captured. A guy I was sure we could get more info out of.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. And it saved lives. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut.”
Brady let out a long breath. “And what did it cost you?”
“I took some heat. Worth it.” Quinn shrugged. “Helped that coms were sketchy in the area. Kind of like cell reception in some spots here in the mountains.”
Brady knew it was the perfect out, but it still took him a moment to quash the guilt. But it helped that Quinn clearly understood how he was feeling. Sometimes you had to make tough decisions.
And take the heat afterward.
Of course, if he was wrong about this, and the county spent a lot of man-hours searching for Ashley when he’d known where she was all along, it would be more than heat. And it hit him anew that he was risking the only job he’d ever wanted, the only thing he’d ever wanted to do in his life.
When the chime signaling a new voice mail sounded, he picked up the phone. A moment later he was listening to Lieutenant Becker’s voice. Which, thankfully, didn’t sound angry.
“Hey, Crenshaw, sorry to bother you on a v-day since you never freaking take them, but word is you’ve had some prior contact with an outstanding missing person. Ashley Jordan. Since she’s the mayor’s daughter, you can imagine the heat. She’s leaning on the boss now, so we’re covering every base. If anything about where she might go comes to mind from your contact with her, let me know ASAP.”
Operation Mountain Recovery Page 13