So many emotions had ravaged her after she had last seen Conrad. She had been so happy to see him after a long surgical rotation. But his rebuke of her had knocked the breath from her lungs. Her heart shredded. She left the room, dizzy and disoriented, wandered the compound until she ended up in the bar. Kidd had been there. He didn’t talk about Conrad and didn’t ask her why she was upset. For that, she was eternally thankful. She knew she would’ve fallen apart trying to explain how she had failed Conrad and he had called her on it.
Only one other man had ever called her out on her bullshit God complex before. When Conrad had done it, her heart shattered into tiny pieces that would never heal.
Unconsciously rubbing the healed bite marks on her hand, Julie shook the memory from her mind. The reception room at the front of the house was empty except for Brooklyn. Julie walked behind the desk where Brooklyn sat in front of a computer screen.
“How many patients today?” she asked.
Brooklyn pulled up the scheduling calendar on the computer. “Not many appointments scheduled, but you know how things work around here. Someone is bound to walk-in.” She handed a stack of mail to Julie. “For you.”
“Thanks. When’s the first appointment?”
“Nine. Justin Abbey. His mother says he’s had a cold for too long and is worried.”
“Probably mono, again.” Julie snorted. She walked into her office and sat at her desk. Georgie sauntered in and dropped onto her dog bed with a harumph. Julie glanced down at the dog, and then finished sorting through the mail. “I don’t know what you’re groaning about. You get your meals prepared for you with a smile, spoiled brat.”
Georgie got up, circled her bed a couple of times and then laid down with her back to Julie. The dog had attitude. Nothing to do but laugh.
A large manila envelope was amongst the bills. She pulled it from the pile, glanced at the return address. None.
“Wonder what this is?” she murmured. She tore it open and pulled out the white sheet of paper. Turning it over, she gasped at the message in chicken-scratch cursive.
Welcome home, Dr. Sutton. Ruin anyone else’s life while you were deployed?
You will pay for what you did to me. Someday soon…
She shoved the letter back into the envelope, opened the bottom drawer of her desk, and lay it on top of the other threats she had received. Fifth one since she had returned home. Eight in total.
He was ramping up. The letters were coming more frequently. Had he known she was deployed and out of the country? That would explain the gap between the last letter before she left and the influx since she had returned. But how had he known?
That was less of a concern. With this latest letter, it was clear that it was only a matter of time before he made good on his threats.
The letters were never signed, but she knew who sent them. The man she had saved. The one who blamed her for ruining his life when she amputated his leg. Corporal Ron Cook.
She should turn the letters over to the police. But what could they do? Keep an eye out for him? Cook could be anywhere. And no one in Eagle Rock knew him. While it was true that most strangers stuck out like a sore thumb in this town, he would probably be lumped in with the anonymous hunters that hit the region every fall for duck hunting season.
A knock drew Julie’s attention. She slid the drawer closed with her foot as Brooklyn cracked open the door and popped her head inside the room. “Kujo’s here. He was hoping you could take a look at his knee.”
Joe Kuntz, or “Kujo” to anyone who knew him, had suffered a career-ending injury to his leg during an operation in Afghanistan while he was in the military. Now he worked with Hank and the Brotherhood Protectors.
“Did he bring his sidekick?” Julie asked.
“Of course.” Brooklyn giggled.
“Come on, Georgie. Your boyfriend has come to visit.”
Julie tapped on the exam room door and stepped inside. Georgie bolted through Julie’s legs, barely brushed against Kujo’s extended hand as he bent over to greet her, and made a beeline for Kujo’s retired service dog, Six. When Georgie had first arrived in Eagle Rock, Kujo and his girlfriend, Molly, had fostered Georgie while Julie went through the adoption process. Georgie had made fast friends with Kujo’s service dog, Six. The two had been inseparable. Oftentimes, snuggling up together for naps. Julie almost felt bad about taking Georgie away from her friend, but life with Kujo was only supposed to be short term.
And Julie wanted to have Georgie with her. They shared a special bond, even if Georgie liked to play hard to get. Julie had saved the dog’s life. And Georgie carried a piece of Conrad with her. Being with Georgie, caring for her, made Julie feel as if she was a little closer to Conrad.
Even though she had no idea where he was—physically, mentally, or emotionally—these days.
“What brings you in today?” she asked.
Kujo gave Georgie one last ruffle of her ears, and stood. “Knees really stiff lately. I’ve been doing the exercises, but it still feels like it doesn’t want to move for me.”
“Okay, slide your jeans down, up on the table, and let me take a look.” She bent over and peered at the knee, pressing against the skin around the patella. “Any pain?”
“Now or in general?”
“Both.”
“Yes.”
She stood. “Okay, there is some swelling. How much other physical activity are you doing besides the exercises?”
“Just the usual that comes from working with Six, and training with the guys.”
“Running?”
“Yeah…some.” He shrugged.
Julie chuckled. “My guess is you’re over-extending your knee and it’s trying to tell you to slow down. I can give you some pain medication, but I only want you to take it when you absolutely have to. Otherwise, leg up, ice, and give it a little bit of a break.” She filled out a script for the pain meds, tore it off the pad, and handed it to him. “Try to remember you’re not a new recruit.”
He snorted. “Don’t I know it. Thanks, Doc.”
A sharp pain struck her heart when she heard the nickname. For years people had called her Doc. But not since Conrad had it meant anything special to her. The loss of hearing the name from his lips made her sad.
Kujo and Six left after a few minutes. Julie returned to her office and closed the door. Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes, and let her mind wander to the intimate nights she had shared with Conrad. The most perfect nights of her life.
A tear ran down her face.
Chapter 15
Smoke swirled around Conrad’s head as he exhaled. He was sure to catch shit from his Dad about smoking in the house, but the reward outweighed the risk. He’d take his old man jawing at him while the nicotine surged through his system. Why he had quit smoking when he joined the Army and went Ranger was beyond him. At the time, it seemed like the best idea to keep his body in peak performance and not introduce anything that might negatively impact him.
He held the cigarette between his lips and inhaled while he rubbed the pins and needles from his hand. They never seemed to go away, but sometimes they were more pronounced. Like now.
“Conrad,” his father yelled from the top of the basement stairs.
“Yeah,” he said, cigarette butt clutched between his lips.
Conrad heard his dad’s voice lower and say, “Go on down.”
“Thank you, sir,” a deep male voice responded. Conrad knew the voice, but couldn’t place it.
“And put out that damn cigarette,” his father yelled before slamming the basement door shut.
Boots clomped down the wood stairs. Conrad didn’t move from his spot on the worn couch of his youth that had been where he popped his high school girlfriend’s cherry. He glanced up into the face of his visitor.
Kidd reached his hand out to Conrad. “Don’t get up.”
“Wasn’t going to.” Conrad inhaled deeply, took the cigarette from his lips and mashed it out in the amber
glass ashtray on the table beside him. “Beer?” He asked, tipping his half empty bottle at his former teammate.
“No,” Kidd said, dropping into the chair across from him. “I’m still one of those ‘coffee in the morning’ people.”
Conrad shrugged. “Suit yourself, man.”
“So, I’d ask how you’ve been, but the lack of grooming and basic personal care is enough of an answer.”
Looking at his shirt, Conrad brushed the crumbs from his chest, and picked at some dried food from last night’s—night before?—dinner. How long had he been wearing that shirt?
Days blended into weeks which became months. What the fuck did it matter to him? Six months ago his life had meaning and purpose. He was a fucking Army Ranger with the elite 75th Battalion. Now, he was a guy without a job, a bum arm with extensive nerve damage, living in his dad’s basement. If not for the medical retirement pay he received from the Army, he’d be broke, too. It was enough to keep up his beer and cigarette habit.
Kidd glanced around the basement toward the bedroom with a bed and a dresser, a bathroom with a shower, and the main area that had furniture that should have been tossed out about twenty years earlier, a couple of tables, and a flat screen TV. “This is kind of pathetic, man.”
“If you’re here to give me shit about my life choices and offer some enlightenment about how I still have so much going for me—save it. I’m not in the mood for any rah-rah-kumbiyah bullshit.”
“Oh, no, I can see how this lifestyle would hold appeal to lazy assholes who can’t get out of their parents’ basement and have no intention of actually living—even after others risked their lives to save your sorry ass. No, this is a fine tribute.”
“I love fuckers like you who want to tell me how to live my life—especially when you have zero goddam clue what the hell my life is like. So, spare me the condescension, and come talk to me about how grand life is when you’re injured and tossed out on your ass. Not able to do the one thing you loved most in your life—tell me how your rose-colored glasses fit then.”
“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. Poor Conrad can’t do what he wants, so he’s going to smoke and drink and sulk his life away. Seriously? That’s what you want?” Kidd blew out a long breath. “Nothing is guaranteed, you asshat. You were able to do something most men dream of being able to do. Was it cut short? Yeah, and that sucks big donkey balls. But it ain’t the end of the fucking world. Grow up and appreciate what you had—what you could have now, if you’d get off this smelly ass sofa and breath fresh air.”
“What I’ve got? Are you smoking crack? I have nothing!”
“You could have a piece of happiness, if you hadn’t pissed away the opportunity.”
“Yeah, and what opportunity was that?”
“Doc.”
The mention her name sliced through Conrad like a sharp knife that twisted when it reached his heart. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
“I don’t blame you, after the way you treated her. I’d be embarrassed, too. Have you even talked to her since you’ve been back?”
Conrad didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The air had whooshed from his chest when he recalled the way he had pushed her out of his hospital room. Out of his life. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to force out the vision of the pain he had seen in her eyes. How tears had rimmed the lower lids when he blamed her for ruining his career—his life. Guilt and shame flooded him like an angry wave bashing against the shore.
“Conrad—I love you man, but you’re an idiot. And a prick. I know you blame her for the damage to your arm, but she saved your fucking life.” Kidd stared at him for a moment before letting out a long, deep sigh, and sitting back in his seat. “Well, that’s not really what I came here for—I found out Georgie is up for adoption, if you’re interested.”
Georgie!
Conrad had wondered what happened to his best friend, but wasn’t sure how to find out where she had gone. After a while, he just assumed she had been placed in a home, maybe with kids, and was living the high life. At least that’s what he told himself had happened to relieve his own guilt over not checking up on the dog.
He had failed so many. Doc. Georgie.
Himself.
“Where is she?” Conrad asked, unable to look Kidd in the eye.
Kidd pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. Reaching across the coffee table, he handed it to Conrad. “Former Delta in Montana is fostering him. Good guy. Hank Patterson…ruins a security firm called Brotherhood Protectors. Give him a call.”
Conrad stared at the paper shaking in his hand. “Thanks, man,” he mumbled.
Kidd stood and took a step toward the stairs but halted. “You do know it was Doc who saved Georgie, right?”
The world stood still. The air felt heavy and Conrad struggled to inhale. What? He looked up at Kidd and scowled. “No, the vet saved Georgie.”
Kidd shook his head back and forth. “The vet wasn’t on the compound when Georgie was brought in. Doc was the only one who could get close to Georgie. Got the fucking bejeezus bit out of her hand, too. She performed the surgery that got the bullet out. The vet took care of Georgie once he returned—but, it was Doc who actually saved the old girl.”
The basement started to spin at a dizzying speed. Conrad grabbed his head between his hands and squeezed. Could that be true? Had Doc saved Georgie?
His mind went to the bandage on Doc’s hand the last time he had seen her. Was that the bite?
The basement grew dark by the time Conrad was able to stand and walk into the bathroom. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there, going through all the mistakes—and there were plenty of them—he had made in the past six months. Vaguely, he recalled Kidd saying goodbye and leaving, but he wasn’t all together sure he had acknowledged his friend.
Turning the shower water on, he stripped out of his clothes and stepped under the hot stream. Time to start over. Time to find Georgie, adopt her, and get back to living.
Then—find Doc and beg for forgiveness.
Chapter 16
“Your next appointment is here,” Brooklyn said, handing her a crisp, clean file. “New patient. I set him up in the exam room.”
Julie’s stomach rumbled. The bagel and cream cheese she had earlier in the day was gone. “Do I have anything after this appointment?”
“No, you’re clear.”
Julie nodded. “Okay, I’ll get through this and go to the cafe for lunch.” She tapped on the door, turned the knob, and entered the exam room.
Glancing at the patient information form stapled on the inside cover, she stopped at the end of the exam table without looking up. “I’m Doctor Julie Sutton. What am I seeing you for today, Mr.—” she scanned the page for the man’s name.
Cook.
Sharp inhale. She jerked her head up and looked him. Deep frown lines were etched into the hard granite of his face. His eyes had the same narrow, accusing glare she remembered from the last time she had seen him. The same stare that often haunted her dreams.
“Hello, Doc. If you can actually call yourself that.”
“What are you doing here?” Her voiced cracked which pissed her off. “What do you want?”
“What do I want…” he emphasized each word as he stroked his mangy beard with streaks of gray. He had aged, and not well. “What I want is to make sure you don’t do to someone else what you did to me.”
Her memory flashed to Conrad lying in his hospital bed. Too late.
Julie stood tall and thrust her shoulders back. This asshole was not going to get under her skin. “I saved your life— “
He jumped from the exam table and stalked toward her. “You ruined my life!”
She quickly backed away. Her back hit the door. Her hand grasped the handle. “Get out now, leave me alone, or I’ll call the cops.” She forced her voice to sound commanding. No telling if she had actually managed to pull it off, though. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears she couldn’t hear anything else, including her own
voice.
“And tell them what? I haven’t done anything. I haven’t touched you. I haven’t made any type of threat against you. And I certainly haven’t decided I’m God, and taken away your life.” Stepping in front of her, he whispered, “Not yet, anyway.”
She could smell cigarettes on his breath, and the scent of vodka in his sweat. The combination made her stomach roil.
Fuck him. Fuck him and his ability to scare her. She had done what she had to do to save his life. No apologies. There was no other choice to be made. It was her duty as an officer and a doctor.
“Back away,” she ordered through clenched teeth.
A sneer crossed Cook’s face. “No problem, Dr. Sutton.” He raised his hands in a show of surrender, and took a few steps back. “I’ll be on my way.”
Julie stepped to the side and opened the door, using it as a shield as he passed by her. He halted, and the fake smile disappeared. “But if you think this is over—it’s not. Not by a long shot.”
He walked down the hallway. “See ya around, Doc.” His words bounced off the wood floor and walls.
Julie held her breath, frozen in place, until she heard the jingle of the bells on the front door. She exhaled, walked into her office, and closed the door. Georgie rubbed her nose on the side of Julie’s leg and rested her snout on Julie’s leg. With shaky hands, Julie picked up the phone receiver and dialed.
Voicemail. Dammit. “Patterson. Leave a message.”
“Hank? It’s Julie Sutton. Can you give me a call? It’s important.”
* * *
Conrad dialed the number for Hank Patterson and listened to it ring, before being dumped into voicemail.
“Mr. Patterson, my name is Conrad Matthews. I got your name from Kidd—uh, Billy Lewis. He says you may be fostering my service dog, Georgie. If you could give me a call back and let me know whether you have her or not, I’d appreciate it.” Conrad recited his cell phone number and ended the call.
Conrad Page 7