by Dale Mayer
As a matter of fact, she’d seen files on all seven of the members of that same unit. But then she was one of the top prosthetic designers in the world, which meant a lot of injured men and women came to her, stationed here in New Mexico. At least for initial testing. And, once one of the men had come, it seemed natural for them to recommend her to the others. Funny, all of the guys she saw in Badger’s unit were all worried over Badger’s mental and physical state.
And not without reason.
Erick said, “Did you get those runner blades in yet?”
“Yours are here.”
“Great. Maybe I’ll pop round this afternoon.”
“Do that.” She hesitated, then added, “He got a lead on something.”
Silence.
She winced. “I wouldn’t normally say anything. But I kind of feel like I’m betraying him if I do and you if I don’t.”
“A lead on what?”
“On what happened. Stone gave him something. I don’t know.”
“Stone told you that?”
She relayed the turn of events that had her caught in the middle.
“Interesting. I think I might drive past Badger’s place today. Sounds like the man needs a friend.”
“He looked like he’d taken a blow. As if something he hadn’t quite expected had happened.”
“Very interesting,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’ll definitely run by his place today then.” And he hung up.
Not knowing if she’d done the right thing, she put the phone down beside her and got back to work. For every patient she had, there was a ton of paperwork to maintain. She kept medical records, not to mention fitness reports and detailed dimensions of every adjustment she made. By the time she was done, she was ready for her next patient.
When she looked up, it was now two o’clock in the afternoon, the lunch hour long gone. She leaned back and groaned, brushing the flyaway blond hair off her forehead.
Jim popped his head around the corner and grinned at her. “You always overwork yourself. If you would leave the work at the office, … instead of taking it home at night …”
“I have too much on my plate for that,” she said irritably. “Maybe I should cut back on my appointment schedule.”
“And then somebody gives you a sob story, and you fit them in,” he said in a good-natured tone.
She rolled her eyes at him. But he was right. She looked around her office, but she’d run out of her house this morning a bit late and hadn’t packed lunch.
Just then Jim stepped toward her with a plate in hand. His grin brightened when he saw her eyes light up.
She shook her head and reached out. “Dear God, I hope that’s for me.”
He chuckled. “It was actually my lunch,” he said magnanimously, “but I made two sandwiches. So here, have one.”
She took the plate gratefully, picked up half a sandwich and bit in. It was delicious. She chewed for a long moment and shook her head. “I think you’re the only person I know who puts jam on a sandwich with cheese, meat, onions, pickles, lettuce …” She eyed the sandwich as she named off a few other things.
“If you don’t like it …”
She nudged the plate closer toward her. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. I just never had a meat sandwich with jam in it before.”
He shot her a look. “You were raised with PB and J. What’s not to like about it in this sandwich? It’s my fave.”
She nodded. “Of course it is.”
But before he could make any comment, she took another big bite. It didn’t matter that it was odd or different. It was food, and right now she was starving and needed it. Bonus that it was seriously tasty. She still had a long afternoon to get through. And she wouldn’t make it if she didn’t start taking care of herself. But somewhere in the last month or two, when she realized just how much she was starting to care about Badger, she had stopped sleeping. And that was not a good thing.
Lying in bed thinking about the damn man—who was stubborn, obnoxious, cranky and cantankerous half the time—was not good for her own soul. On the other hand, she hadn’t had a date in a long time. Maybe it was just sexual frustration. Maybe she really should call up an old friend and go for a date or two …
She shook her head. That so wasn’t her style.
She might have done that when she was younger, but she’d passed that stage at least a decade ago. Now at thirty-three she was looking for something a whole lot more than a one-night stand. She loved sex. It was fun. It was easy. It made her feel good. But only with the right man. She wasn’t into sex with strangers.
Now Badger was a whole different story. He wasn’t a stranger, though she wasn’t sure she’d call him a friend either. But sparks flew when they were together, even if they avoided bringing up the topic. She’d been nice; she’d been patient, but she was getting pretty tired of both. If she could just run into him somewhere, she’d probably take him to bed, have those pants off him and him flat on his back before he ever knew what hit him. Trouble was, she was always stuck in the office, and he was always hiding away in his own place. And, so far, the two of them hadn’t crossed paths anywhere else.
When she put the last of the sandwich in her mouth, she shifted the plate out of her way as Jim returned with the mail. She marveled that people still sent paper mail. She much preferred email and digital copies. She shook her head. “In this day and age, physical mail shouldn’t be a thing.”
He laughed. “That’s quite true.”
She quickly sorted through it. He had opened the bulk of it, but a couple looked more personal. She frowned, grabbed the letter opener and slid one of the envelopes open. She pulled out a letter from a former patient. He was just giving her an update and had sent her some pictures.
She took a look and smiled. “This one is from Gordon. He’s doing fantastic,” she exclaimed, studying the photos.
She got up, and, with stickpins in one hand and photos in the other, pinned them to her big wallboard. She loved it when her patients sent her photos. It was always nice to keep in touch with them too. Gordon was a good guy. He’d married last year, and she wished nothing but the best for him. She tucked his letter away into a personal folder and tossed the envelope. That left one more.
She ripped it open, pulled out a typewritten letter and froze. It was one sentence: I know what you did. She slowly turned it over, looking for any sign of who it came from, then she did the same with the envelope. But there was nothing.
She slowly folded it up, tucked it into the envelope and put it into another folder. She’d labeled that one Crank, but it could be so much worse. This was about the seventh one she’d received in seven weeks. She glanced at the calendar and saw it was Wednesday. These letters always came on a Wednesday. She crossed her arms over her chest as she sat here thinking about it. She wondered if she should mention the notes to the cops.
Since the letters always said the same thing, and nothing else happened, she had held off from doing so. But the last thing she wanted was to wait until things got ugly and then to realize she should have done something earlier.
“Is it another one?” Jim held the empty plate in his hand, his face a study of worry as he looked at her. He nodded his head toward the folder in the big file drawer.
“Seven in seven weeks. And of course today’s Wednesday. I always get the letter on Wednesday.”
With his gaze intent on her face, he said, “Still no idea why you’re getting them?”
She shook her head. “No, no clue. And, no, I have no idea what it is I might have done. To say I know what you did means nothing to me.” She groaned. “I don’t need this shit.”
“None of us do,” he said cheerfully. As he walked out to the main office, he tossed back, “You should probably call the cops. Just saying …”
He was right, but she was still hesitant about that. She didn’t have anything to hide, but her life was still … private. And most often, most likely, they would only tell her that they couldn’t do anything. A
nd to let them know if anything else developed. The police were most effective after a crime was committed, not stopping one from occurring.
She knew guys, like Badger, would have a hissy fit if she tried to ignore this stuff. Most likely Badger and the guys from his unit would have told her to get the harassing notes to the police station, beginning with the first one. Maybe they were right.
She returned her attention to work, trying to ignore the letters, but her mind kept returning to the problem.
She had no idea what the letters referred to. Neither was a date mentioned, was it?
Frowning, she slowly pulled out the last letter and read it again: I know what you did. There was no time frame listed. So not what she’d done last summer, last month or last week.
Well, let’s see. … She got through school. She’d had sex with a couple strangers in her life, not exactly a high point, but, hey, she hadn’t cheated on anyone. She hadn’t stolen. She hadn’t run anybody over. She stared at the letter, shook her head and tossed it back on top of the others. Whatever it was, it would have to wait. She had more patients coming in.
By the time she had seen two more patients back to back, then had another chance to breathe, she looked up to see three big men walking in. She raised an eyebrow. “I know I get to see you guys a lot, but do any of you have an appointment today?”
She tried to keep her tone light. It was a problem. She was definitely too soft when it came to fitting people in. But in this case, these guys—Badger, Erick and Cade—were all staring at her with goofy grins. She leaned back, crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Your office hours are technically over,” Badger said.
She looked at him in surprise. “What?” She twisted to look at her computer, and sure enough it was five o’clock. She shook her head. “This has got to stop.”
“Yeah, it does,” Erick said.
She turned to look at the three of them. “What is it you want?”
“Erick’s new leg,” Badger said.
She walked to the cabinet and pulled out Erick’s prosthetic. He’d been happy with plain-Jane models the whole time, but then he’d wanted the blade runner thing. After watching an old video of somebody in South Africa running in the Olympics on one, and being a bit of a runner himself, he’d wanted to try it. Badger’s wasn’t quite done, and Erick was waiting on two he’d ordered. She brought one out, took it out of the packaging.
She deliberately had this one toned in a light blue steel. She turned around and handed it over.
He sat down and unbuckled his old prosthetic, his hands eagerly reaching for the new one.
“You guys are just as bad as girls. They like diamonds. You like metal.”
The men just nodded. Erick jumped back up onto his legs and took a couple exploratory jumps. A grin filled his face. “Wow, that’s supreme.”
“You can’t have the second one just yet,” she said. “I warned you that the top needed to have a different adjustment.”
He nodded. “That’s all right. I can wait on the second one.”
In truth, Erick was missing a foot and the lower leg. Getting his prosthetics had been a godsend in getting his life back. He was also missing two fingers and had a severely damaged shoulder joint. But he always had a big smile on his face.
He walked around the room, hopping on his new leg. She smiled when she realized he wasn’t even touching the other foot to the ground. “How does that feel?”
“Awesome.” He turned with a big grin and said, “Thanks so much.”
She had a small self-conscious moment. The realization that this was why she did what she did. To see these big men find some purpose again, get some joy back in their hearts. “Don’t wear this one out so fast,” she admonished.
He laughed. “I didn’t wear out the last one. It’s not my fault there was a weakness in the middle.”
She shook her head. “This isn’t the standard material for prosthetics anyway. And you well know that. These are heavier. They’re also more durable, have better tensile strength, more flexibility …”
The men turned and headed toward her office door.
She called out, “Cade, I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
He pivoted to look at her. “I’m having more surgery,” he said, his voice grim. “No point in getting fitted until I’m through that process.”
She watched the tightness on his face and realized just how hard some of this was for each of these guys. “At least by the time you’re done with that stage, we should have a whole new line of prosthetics coming in.”
“Yeah? What kind?”
She smiled. “I’ve designed a couple with pockets, little places you can fit things into, like a cell phone for high up in the thigh. Some weapons.” She shrugged. “I don’t know where all that will go. I’ve spent some time talking to Stone about it.”
“Now that will be freaking awesome.” Cade grinned, his big baby face lighting up. “But it’ll still be months.”
“And the months would pass anyway,” she said gently. “The best thing you can do is heal properly. And, once you’re healed,” she said, “your adjustment will be very fast. Unlike your blockheaded friend here, who won’t get off his leg enough to let his stump heal properly.”
The men all grinned, except Badger. He snorted and followed his friends out the door. “Still badgering me, aren’t you, Doc? You know you like me.”
“I’ll badger you all I need to, but I doubt you’ll listen,” she said with a heavy sigh. She walked out to the main reception area as the men headed toward the front door. She was on the third floor, and she always took the elevator just because she was tired at the end of the day. But she loved to watch the men go down the stairs on her prosthetics. They did it with such grace and style. Maybe it was because of their fitness training; maybe it was their mindset. But they always adjusted very fast. It was gratifying. She leaned against the door, watching them talk among themselves.
Jim came up behind her. “Did you tell them?”
She slid a glance his way. “Tell them what?”
The men stopped at the doorway to the stairs and glanced back. She caught the frown sliding over Badger’s face. She turned to head back inside.
“About the threatening letters,” Jim protested.
“Of course I didn’t,” she said as she motioned him inside so the door would shut, and so the men wouldn’t hear their conversation. “Why would I? They aren’t law enforcement.”
He lowered his voice. “Yeah, but I heard they were SEALs.”
“Ark, ark, ark,” she mocked. “It doesn’t matter what they were. They’re not law enforcement now. And that’s all that anybody will care about.”
She kept going toward her office, determined to shut down everything for the night. As she turned off the computer, reached for her purse, she turned around to find all three men standing in front of her desk, glaring at her. She glared right back. “What is your problem?”
“You,” Badger said. “Yeah, we heard that crack of you imitating a seal.”
She grinned. “Got to you, did it?” She gave a quick nod. “Good.” She went to move past them. “Maybe you won’t be quite so stubborn now when you actually get that bloody leg to heal.”
“What’s this about threatening letters?” Erick asked.
She shrugged, dismissing his question. She knew they wouldn’t be put off, but she’d try. “It’s nothing.”
Jim snorted.
She turned and glared at him. “If you want to keep your job …” she threatened in a mocking tone.
“If you get killed, I lose my job anyway,” he snapped back. He turned to Erick. “Every Wednesday she’s received a threatening letter for seven weeks in a row.”
The men straightened and, as one unit, turned to look at her.
She shook her head. “They are hardly threatening letters.”
“Let me see them.”
She glared at Badger. “Who
died and made you boss?”
“You did. The minute you didn’t tell us about the damn letters in the first place.”
“When was I supposed to tell you?” she protested. There was only one way to deal with this. The men wouldn’t walk away until they saw the letters, so all she had to do was show them and point out it was nothing to be worried about, and they’d leave. Well, she hoped they would. She pulled out the file and grabbed the letters. “They’re all the same. They come every Wednesday, and I have no idea what they mean.” She handed the stack to Badger.
He read the first one and passed it over to Erick, who read it and passed it to Cade. Badger quickly went through all seven and then turned to look at her. “No idea what they mean or what they refer to?”
She shook her head. “That’s one of the reasons why I didn’t tell the cops. I don’t have a clue what they refer to. Nobody’ll believe me because these letters imply I did something wrong or did something I’m ashamed of. I don’t have a clue.”
The men studied her face intently for a long moment, and then Badger gave a decisive nod. “I believe you.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said in a droll tone.
He shook a finger at her. “Don’t be like that. You never know when you’ll need a friend.”
She leaned forward, placed her palms flat on her desk and glared at him. “And that goes double for you. You never know when you will need a friend.”
Silence fell in her office.
Back outside, Erick and Cade turned to face Badger. “What the hell was that last comment she made about?”
He shrugged irritably. “Who knows?”
But the men wouldn’t be put off. Erick shook his head. “Oh, no you don’t. She made a comment as if you had no friends.”
“She thinks my friends aren’t enough to keep me alive.”
The men stopped at the truck and stared at him.
He raised both hands in frustration. “She thinks I’ve got a death wish. That any attempt I make toward finding out what asshole did this to us will end with me dying. She’s trying to get me to think my friends aren’t enough to keep me alive because then I’ll turn away from my mission.” He knew his buddies would understand. They were his friends after all. Regardless of what she said, he did have good ones.