A Doctor's Watch

by Taylor, Vickie

  “You ready?” His breath tickled her cheek.

  “Not really.” The hill looked a lot longer and a whole lot steeper when one was sitting on a rocket ship on skids.

  “Good.” Ty laughed, and took a moment to give Todd a long look. He pulled Mia’s body snug against his. Out of the corner of her eye, Mia saw Todd frown and knew he hadn’t missed the motion.

  This did not seem like a Dr. Spock–approved technique.

  “Save us some hot chocolate,” he told her son, then shoved off. “We’ll need it after a couple of spins.”

  “A couple?” Todd complained, but Ty pretended not to hear.

  She quit puzzling what the good doctor was up to when the rush of wind hit her face. The speed quickly became dizzying. They were flying! The snow stung her cheeks and forced her to narrow her eyes to slits.

  The sled bucked beneath her, threatening to unseat her. It fishtailed left, then right, but Ty countered every move, holding her tight against him and using their weight as one to keep them on a straight track until the very bottom when the sled curved sharply right as they slowed and rolled them both into a drift.

  She came up with a mouthful of snow and Ty laughed at her. She scooped a mitten full of the white stuff into his face, and he retaliated with a snowball to her back when she made the mistake of turning away from him.

  Something broke open inside Mia, and she realized this last year, sitting in her room writing in her journal and counting days, this life she’d so treasured, wasn’t living at all.

  This was living. Speeding down a hill and snowball-fighting and your face heating at the expression on a man’s face when he looked at you a certain way. That was living.

  The realization took her breath away. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s do it again.”

  “Love to,” Ty answered and quirked his mouth up in an ironic smile. His gaze moved up the hill and hers followed. “But I think someone else wants a turn.”

  Above them, Todd was waving impatiently for them to return. Twenty feet before she reached the top, he called down to her. “Come on, Mom, hurry up. It’s our turn!”

  She turned to Ty in excitement, and he winked at her.

  “How did you do it?” she whispered.

  “Easy,” he answered just before they reached the top. “I appealed to one of the primary male motivators. Jealousy.”

  The rest of her morning belonged exclusively to Todd. She sledded with him, built a snowman with him, made snow angels beside him, and loved him with all her heart.

  Every now and then she found a second to sneak a grateful smile to Ty, who stood by, serving up hot chocolate and dry mittens on demand.

  When they split up in the parking lot to go their separate ways just before lunchtime, she mouthed thank you to him before he turned away. She wished she had more to give him. It hardly seemed a fair exchange. He’d given her her son back, and all she had in return was words.

  By the time Mia had made the thirty-minute drive back to Nana’s house, she was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open, but it was a happy tired. The kind brought on by fresh air and laughter. Not to mention twelve or fourteen climbs up a sixty-foot hill covered in snow and dragging a sled. Maybe she could get in a nap after she made a bowl of hot soup for Todd.

  “I wonder where Nana is?” Her mother-in-law’s car wasn’t in the drive.

  Mia used the electric door-opener to raise the garage door, then pulled inside. As soon as she turned the engine off, Todd scampered out his door.

  “Go see if she left a note,” she told him. “While I unload the car.” She wanted to get the wet boots, scarves and gloves laid out to dry before they mildewed, and the empty hot chocolate thermos was rolling around the floorboards somewhere.

  Todd stomped through the door into the house calling for his Nana. Mia hit the button to close the garage door.

  She heard footsteps back on the step to the door into the house and assumed it was Todd back already. “No note?” she asked without turning.

  She never got an answer. Instead an arm closed around her throat. Another, this one holding a foul-smelling rag, clamped over her mouth. Mia tried to scream, but couldn’t make a sound.

  God, Todd was in the house. She had to protect her son.

  She tried to stomp down on her assailant’s instep, but he was too quick. She tried to bite his hand, gouge his eyes, anything, but he had taken her by surprise. His grip on her was too secure.

  Spots danced before her eyes. Her field of vision narrowed to a tunnel and blurred. A sad sense of irony bubbled inside her. Just two short years ago she would have welcomed death. Her battle against the pain that had festered inside her had been long and hard fought, and now that she’d won it, now that she wanted to live, someone else’s hand would accomplish what hers had not.

  He was going to kill her—of that much she was sure—yet despite the fact that the future she’d worked so hard to secure for herself was being stolen, her last conscious thought was not for herself. It was for her son.

  Todd was in the house, hopefully unaware of what was happening so nearby. Please let him stay where he was. Please don’t let him decide to come see what was taking her so long.

  It didn’t matter what they did to her, but dear God, whoever was doing this, please don’t let them hurt Todd.

  Despite the fact that his mind kept wandering to a steep white slope of snow, a towheaded boy and the mother who looked at him as though he was joy incarnate, Ty managed to make quick work of his patient chart updates. All except one.

  He kicked back in the chair in his tiny office and laced his fingers behind his head, staring at Mia’s folder as if it were a snake coiled to strike. It wasn’t a bad comparison, actually, since he had a sinking feeling his relationship with Mia was going to bite him in the ass if he got in any deeper with her.

  This morning’s sledding trip hadn’t just been the kind of day he’d dreamed about—and never gotten—when he was Todd’s age. It had been the kind of day he hadn’t let himself dream about as a grown man. He’d been too focused on his work to be distracted by women. But Mia, standing at the top of the hill and smiling at him as though he were her white knight, eyes so warm he was surprised the snow hadn’t melted on the spot, handing him a steaming mug of hot chocolate, laughing and gasping, their bodies pressed together as they’d sped down the hill together, had made him realize exactly what he’d been missing. Now that he’d had a taste of what he’d been denying himself, he wanted more. And he wanted it with Mia.

  He drummed his fingers on her chart. Leave it to him to get hung up on the one woman he couldn’t have.

  Maybe that was why he was so attracted to her. He could flirt with the idea of a relationship, knowing he could never actually act on the idea. It was safe.

  And now he was psychoanalyzing himself. Not good.

  Picking up his pen, he opened Mia’s folder, noted his conclusions and scribbled a note to close the case, recommend an occasional checkup with another doctor in the future. She was going to be fine. Todd was going to be fine. There was no reason for him to continue seeing them in an official capacity.

  No reason for him to continue seeing them in any capacity at all. It wasn’t just the wrath of Karl Serrat he feared. Dating a former patient was still an ethical gray area, and truth be told, he just couldn’t afford the distraction right now.

  He would call Mia and tell her, give her some names of reputable doctors, but he couldn’t see her, personally or professionally, again.

  Resolved to get it over with as soon as possible, he stood, shrugged into his coat and slung the stack of case files under one arm and insurance forms under the other. He dumped the case files in Director Serrat’s inbox for review and approval, then headed for the door. He wanted to make the call where he was sure there wouldn’t be other ears listening in.

  As he stepped into the bitter December wind and flipped his phone open, another call came in. The caller ID read Chuck Campbell.

&nbs
p; Belatedly he remembered the Kaiser’s morning order to put a halt to the deputy’s investigation into the Serrat family and the voice mail he’d left Chuck.

  Ty pressed the talk button. “Hey, man, it’s about time you called me back.”

  “Ty, where are you?”

  His old friend’s voice was low and tight, raising the hairs on the back of Ty’s neck. Sirens wailed in the background.

  “At the hospital. Where are you?”

  “At the Serrat house. I got a situation here.”

  The wind kicked up, clawing inside Ty’s coat and trailing icy fingers down his back.

  “Looks like your girlfriend tried to off herself again,” Chuck continued. “And this time she just might have succeeded.”

  Ty’s heart skipped a beat. “There’s gotta be some mistake.”

  “Uh-uh,” Chuck grunted.

  Could the situation get any worse?

  Chapter 10

  Mia woke with a start, gasping, choking. She clawed at her chest, at the great weight there, at her face. She couldn’t breathe. Her hand hit something over her mouth, knocked it aside.

  She writhed, desperate for air. Her tongue was so thick she couldn’t breathe around it and her mouth felt as if someone had stuffed it with cotton while she slept.

  She tried to sit, found herself too weak. All she could do was cough. Her lungs were on fire!

  “She’s coming around,” a disembodied voice said from her side. “Page Dr. Smith.”

  Mia pried her eyelids open far enough to see the woman who had spoken, a short round woman in a white dress. A nurse? She must be in the hospital, then.

  She coughed again and the nurse shifted the oxygen mask she’d knocked aside back over her mouth.

  Suddenly Mia remembered. The garage. The man. The rag over her mouth, the feeling of being suffocated.

  She tried to talk and gagged on her tongue.

  “Quiet now, Ms. Serrat. Just relax, you’re going to be fine.” The woman patted her on the shoulder unconvincingly. At least she was able to scrape in a raw breath of the cool gas flowing through the mask.

  Two men she hadn’t seen across the room stepped up to her bedside. One wore the uniform of a sheriff’s deputy. The other was in plain clothes, but a leather-backed shield was clipped to his belt.

  “Ms. Serrat,” the man she guessed to be a detective said. “Can you tell us what happened this afternoon?”

  Words were like acid on her raw throat. “I don’t…Someone grabbed—” She fell into a fit of coughing.

  “Someone grabbed…you? Someone grabbed you?”

  She managed a nod, her eyes tearing.

  “Who grabbed you?”

  “Don’t…know. What…happened?”

  “You don’t remember what happened?”

  She shook her head.

  “Your mother-in-law found you in the garage with your car running. You had stuffed rags under the doors to keep the exhaust from escaping.” The two police officers looked somberly at each other, then at her. “You tried to kill yourself, and you almost succeeded.”

  This time she managed to raise herself a few inches off the bed, shaking her head roughly before crashing back to the pillow. “No,” she croaked. “No.”

  The deputy rolled the flat brim of his hat around in his hands. The detective cleared his throat. “Ms. Serrat, I’m aware of the claims you made recently that someone was trying to kill—”

  “Not claims! Someone—” Cough.

  “Ms. Serrat…”

  “Someone tried—” Cough. Cough. No. She didn’t try to kill herself. They had to believe her!

  “Ms. Serrat, we can talk about that later. What we really need to know right now is where your son is.”

  Her body went still. Even her heart stopped beating. “Todd?”

  “Yes, your son Todd. Where is he?”

  “He’s…he’s home.” She coughed and sputtered, managed to control the spasm this time. “He’s in the house!”

  “No, ma’am. He’s not.”

  The stillness was broken by violent shaking. She threw herself upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her gown gaped open and she didn’t care. She had to find her son.

  The two officers grabbed her by the upper arms before her bare feet hit the floor. She pushed and pulled against them, only to have them tighten their grip.

  “Please. Let me go.” She sagged backward, then surged forward to no avail. “I have to find my son.”

  “Ma’am, just tell us what you did with him, and we’ll find him.”

  “What I did?” Her eyes felt too large for her face. “You think I—?” She lunged forward, and one of her clenched fists clipped the detective in the jaw.

  “All right! That’s enough.” The detective grabbed her with both hands and wrestled her back to the bed. She squirmed and kicked, trying to find the air to scream while both men held her down.

  “What the hell?” A familiar voice boomed from the doorway.

  Mia nearly cried in relief.

  In two strides Ty was across the room and had the detective by the collar, hauling him backward. The deputy, looking sheepish, took a step back of his own accord.

  The detective struggled out of Ty’s grasp. “Back off, Doctor.”

  Ty’s pulse pounded in his ears. “You back off. Back all the way the hell out of this room off. Right now!”

  The detective straightened his collar. “I’m questioning a—”

  “Nobody’s questioning anybody until she’s been cleared medically.”

  “That’s not your call.”

  “No, but it is mine.” A fourth man had quietly joined the standoff, a stethoscope hanging around his neck. Dr. Smith, the name sewn over the breast pocket of his white coat read. “Now I’d appreciate it if you’d all get out of my emergency room. That includes you, Dr. Hansen.”

  Ty looked ready to argue, but instead took a deep breath and turned to Mia. “I’ll be right outside.”

  “No.” Her voice sounded like the churn of rocks in a tumbler. Already Dr. Smith was herding the men out of the room. “You have to go to Nana’s. You have to look for—” She couldn’t hold back another cough. As Ty was backed out the door, she managed to finish. “You have to find Todd. Please. Find Todd.”

  The door had no sooner swung shut behind him than Ty spun on Chuck. “What the hell is she talking about?”

  From Chuck’s expression, Ty knew the news wouldn’t be good. Chuck was known as an easygoing guy. He didn’t take himself or anyone else too seriously, but there was no trace of laughter in his eyes now. No hint of a smile on his face.

  “Mrs. Serrat found Mia in the garage, like I told you, but she couldn’t find Todd. He’s missing.”

  Ty swore—one of the really bad words he rarely used—and raked a hand through his hair. His mind raced.

  “Did you check the house real good? Maybe he got scared and he’s hiding.”

  “He’s not in the house.”

  “What about outside? He’s only eight years old. He couldn’t have gotten far, for Christ’s sake.”

  “We’ve set up a command post at the house. We’ve got teams coming in to search. If he’s wandering around out there, we’ll find him.”

  Ty caught Chuck’s sideways glance. He’d known him long enough to read his body language. “What do you mean ‘if’?”

  Chuck turned his hat around and around in his hands. “There was no sign Todd was in the house when Mia tried…when she locked herself in the garage. We didn’t find his coat or his boots.”

  “Because he’s wearing them.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he never made it home from the sledding trip.”

  Ty’s blood ran cold as he realized what the deputy was thinking. “No. She wouldn’t hurt him. She loves that kid.”

  “Loves him enough to want to take him with her when she goes? We’ve seen it before. A mother who hurts her kid—even a kid she loves.”

  Yeah, he’d seen it up close and person
al. But not Mia.

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe me, buddy, I hope I’m wrong. But her little boy is missing, and until we have something else to go on, Mia is our prime suspect.”

  Ty sat in a hard plastic chair in the Eternal Emergency Care Clinic waiting room, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. In his mind, every moment of this morning’s sledding trip played on continuous loop as he analyzed every word she’d said, every expression, looking for something that forecast the events that had followed.

  He just didn’t see it. He didn’t see her as a murder-suicide about to happen.

  But then, did anyone ever see it? That was the horror of mental illness—it hid behind many masks.

  He scrubbed his face, the loop starting over with Todd waving from the backseat as her car pulled into the park, but before he got any further, the sound of hushed voices entering the waiting area had him looking up. His gut tightened. Nana, Citria and Karl Serrat, all with equally grave expressions, took seats on the couches across the room. Nana sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a wadded tissue. Citria held her hand.

  Ty rose stiffly and walked over to them, his fingertips jammed in the pockets of his jeans.

  “You.” Nana sniffed again and wiped the tip of her nose. “You said she was all right. You said she was well.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Serrat—”

  Karl’s eyes glared up, squeezing his sister’s hand. “There’ll be a full case review as soon as I get back in the office. If I find your actions in this matter negligent in any way, you’ll be more than sorry, Doctor.”

  Ty held the director’s gaze through the tirade, forced his attention back to Nana. His instinct was to defend himself, but that was a discussion for a different time, a different place.

  “Mrs. Serrat, can you tell me what happened?” he asked gently.

  “I—I told the police. I just went out for some red beans and hamburger meat. It’s getting so cold, I was going to make a big pot of chili.”