“I had to open by myself this morning,” Tiffany said the next day. She was sporting what some guys might call an adorable pout, but to Cam it just raised her hackles. Not that she’d show that, because she never did.
“I had some car trouble when I left last night.”
“Is everything okay?” Tiffany asked.
Since Tiffany looked concerned, Cam took a deep breath and calmed herself. Tiffany was silly and superficial, but not a bad person. Sweet in some ways, just annoying in others. Like the way she was dressed today. A tight white T-shirt with a jean skirt and leather flip-flops. It wasn’t a beach party; it was a professional office.
“Someone slashed two of my tires. My car had to be towed and I just picked it up at the garage.”
“At your house? Someone broke into your garage?” Tiffany asked, her mouth hanging open.
“No,” Cam said. “Here in the parking lot. When I left, it was hard not to miss it.”
“Oh. Maybe I should pay more attention. I didn’t even notice anything.” Tiffany pursed her lips. “Wait, you don’t park in the back, do you?”
“No, Tiffany. I’m out front. But thank you for thinking of that. If you do ever notice anything, please let me know.”
Tiffany parked in the back because by the time she got here at exactly nine each morning—sometimes a few minutes after—the front lots were filled and she had to go around back. Probably leaving and entering that way too.
“Do you know who could have done it? Did you report it? You had that sexy detective here with you when you left, right? Maybe he could help you.”
Cam sighed. “No, I don’t know who did it. I did report it to the police though.” She wasn’t going to address anything in regards to Ian.
“I bet it’s someone from the Arrow trial.”
“Tiffany, you know I can’t divulge any information on any patients. Nor can I release names to the police department. Nor can you if someone calls and asks.”
“But everyone knows about the Arrow trial. How is that breaking any laws?”
“Confidentiality,” Cam corrected and wondered why she had to again. Tiffany didn’t get it; she never would. She greeted clients and patients, gave them their initial paperwork for insurance purposes and scheduled appointments. Not much more.
Tiffany wasn’t allowed to access files. She didn’t type any notes. She didn’t have anything to do with any personal information. Only Cam had access to that and only Cam ever would. Everything was electronic and everything was backed up on a server offsite.
“Oh,” Tiffany said. “Well, at least you got your car back. I made coffee already too. Would you like me to get you a cup before your first appointment in twenty minutes?”
“That would be nice. Thank you for offering.”
“Cream, no sugar, right?”
“Yes,” Cam said, making her way through the inner office where patients waited before they were called in. There was a smaller area out by Tiffany where paperwork and appointments were taken care of.
Under it all, Tiffany was a nice girl. Just a bit ditzy and not having her priorities in the right place.
Cam would like to blame it on the generation, but she didn’t want to cast blame on a whole generation when it seemed everyone else did. Not all twenty-somethings were like Tiffany. She sure the heck hadn’t been like any of the twenty-year-olds she went to school with.
Well, correction. By the time she was twenty she was figuring out everything she’d done wrong and why and trying to make all those changes at once.
Top of her class, up and coming. She had the ability to change her demeanor and tone to match her patients, or meet their needs. She could be cool, she could be nice, and she could be sympathetic. She gave them what would work the best, all the while keeping a safe distance. Controlled. She’d mastered that years ago. Well enough to get away with things under her parents’ noses.
That was probably why she was so good. She never got attached, even when she should have. Even when sometimes she felt she’d like to. Even when she wanted that risk and thrill. When she was done, she moved on. Maybe she was just heartless. She’d explored that possibility too.
Bottom line, she just wanted to help. Her goal had been child psychology and that was where she started out. Trying to figure out why she behaved the way she did.
But it was harder for her to keep her distance with the younger kids. Harder for her to shut herself off. That was when she realized she wasn’t so heartless after all.
She kept thinking of the reason she went into that field, and at times she worried it’d cloud her judgment. So she’d moved away from it.
Did she still see kids now and again? Sure. Pampered, wealthy clients brought their kids to her to talk. A child like she used to be. But she never took on serious mental health diagnosis in children. She referred them on now.
Tiffany brought her coffee in and placed it on her desk. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m good. Just let me know when my patient arrives.”
“Will do,” Tiffany said, then strolled out of her office, shutting the door behind her.
***
A little before four-thirty, Ian made his way into Dr. Mason’s office. She was Dr. Mason to him right now. Especially after he felt tricked into saying what he did to her when he dropped her off the other day.
He’d been frustrated by his lack of control resulting in those words, when he realized he had no one to blame but himself.
She hadn’t asked him specific questions about the incident on the way home.
She hadn’t said much at all about it. Not until he brought it up. Not until he had made the comment about why he was still armed.
He didn’t have to answer her. He could have just said bye and pulled away, but he defended his actions. Like he’d been doing for weeks.
Everyone told him to stop doing that. That he’d done nothing wrong and the investigation would prove it. He knew that. He knew Mick was lucky to be alive too. But it didn’t stop the fact that he’d killed some teenager.
She might have been a junky. Probably a prostitute too. But she’d been someone’s daughter at one point in her life. And someone, he hoped, was looking for her. Someone might need that closure.
But he’d been told to let it go. That he couldn’t and shouldn’t do anything about it.
She was stabbing Mick. She would have killed him. He almost died as it was, and would have if Ian didn’t wake back up and call 911 before the pain in his head forced everything black again.
Why couldn’t he remember much from that night? Just waking up a few times, then passing back out.
“Well hello there, Ian,” the secretary said to him, all bright-eyed and smiles. Tiffany. That was what Cam had said her name was. He didn’t forget much in life. Always caught the details and held onto them like a Doberman with a T-bone in his mouth.
That Ian couldn’t remember much from that night was more than slightly frustrating.
“I’ve got an appointment at four-thirty.”
“She’s expecting you. Said for you to go right into her office.”
“Thanks,” he said.
He walked through the waiting room between the front desk and Dr. Mason’s office after Tiffany hit a button to let him in, knocked on the open doorframe, and waited until Cam looked up.
“Ian. Come on in.”
He nodded, then walked in and sat in the chair again, waiting for her to get her pad and walk from behind her desk.
“No greeting?” she asked. “Are you still annoyed from the other day?”
He smiled. He wasn’t going to let her know that he’d been ticked at himself. She was just doing her job, even if he hated it. Even if he put himself in that situation.
“Not at all, Doc.”
She lifted her eyebrow but didn’t correct how he’d addressed her. He didn’t think she would. They were in the office. She said she was formal here and he didn’t think she’d back down from that.
“Anything you’d like to talk about today?” she asked.
He looked at the navy pants she had on. Nice and fitted to her body. It was hard not to miss that when she stood up and walked to the chair across from him after she’d shut the door.
She wasn’t provocative, but rather classy. Her light pink sweater was covering everything it should. Nothing dipping low like Tiffany’s shirt was, nothing thin or see-through. But he could tell she took a lot of care with her body and her appearance.
“Not really,” he said, his eyes settling on the navy and white heels she had on. She sure did wear some sexy footwear.
“Not even my attire?” she asked.
He shot his head up and caught her grin. “It looks good on you,” he said with a shrug.
“Glad to have your approval.” She picked her pen up. “Why did you go into law enforcement?”
“Why not?”
“So you didn’t put much thought into it. Just threw a dart at a board and it landed there?”
“Pretty much.”
She put her pen down. “We will get your release signed faster if you cooperate. I thought after we’d left last time we were making some progress, but I’m seeing that you’d rather take a few steps back.”
She was right, but he wouldn’t admit it. “What do you want to know? My grandfather was a detective. I looked up to him. I thought it was cool when I was younger. Then it was exciting when I was a teen. I figured, why not? My parents encouraged it. They encouraged my sister and me in everything.”
“Not everyone had that type of encouragement in life.”
“I told you we had a good relationship.”
She nodded again. “How would it have felt if they didn’t like your career choice?”
“Since they’ve never said otherwise, I can’t answer that.”
“Fair point.”
“Why psychology? Did your parents support you?”
“This appointment isn’t about me. But yes. My parents supported me one hundred percent. Like you, I have a very good relationship with them.”
“And your reason for this field? Not trying to find all your own issues? Your inner faults? Self-diagnosis?” he asked, grinning at her.
She had the gall to laugh at him. “If it will get you to open up, then I’ll tell you. We all have faults in life or issues we need to work out and live with. Every single person, even when they say they don’t. Even you. I don’t have any mental instabilities that I’m aware of if it makes you feel any better.”
He didn’t think she’d answer him and gave her credit for putting him in his place. Not many did. Not many would dare.
“Sure, it does. But you still didn’t answer my question. Why this field?”
“You’re stubborn,” she said.
“Just like you.”
“Maybe someday I’ll tell you, but it has no bearing on this appointment. Now back to you,” she said, shutting him down.
He’d pushed it too far and he knew it. Just because he was mandated to do this shouldn’t be a reason to give her a hard time on her job.