Page 45 of Girl Between
Jake stoodoutside the therapist’s office grinding his teeth. This had been a complete waste of time and money in his opinion, but at least the quack had told him exactly what he’d wanted to hear. Telling Jake’s mother what he learned in Paris wouldn’t do any good.
He’d known that for a while now, but this ensured Wade heard it from a professional.
That didn’t mean his stubborn uncle was done arguing by any means, but at least now Jake could move forward with a clean conscience. He only wished the therapist’s hourly fee included telling his uncle where he was off to next.
In Jake’s mind, there was only one choice, and it was long overdue. But he and Wade had a long history of not seeing eye-to-eye. That didn’t stop him from respecting the man immensely. But it did make certain conversations more difficult.
Or non-existent, if the silent ride home was any indication.
The telltale creak of the old screen door pulled Jake’s mind back to the present. It seemed the appropriate cooling-off period had passed as Wade and Jenkins stepped out onto the porch.
“Needs some grease,” Wade muttered, as the rusty hingesgroaned. But what didn’t in the desert? The arid Nevada climate was anything but forgiving.
Jake, and it seemed Jenkins too, was familiar with the Wade-ism that always followed his uncle’s complaints about the dry weather. “Dryer than a popcorn fart,” they both said in unison with Wade.
Jenkins grinned, which in turn made Jake’s uncle smile. But it was short-lived. “This isn’t over,” Wade muttered as his steely gaze met Jake’s.
“You were just in there, were you not?” Jake argued.
“Yeah, yeah,” Wade grumbled as he stomped toward his favorite chair. “I heard everything the so-called doctor said. But it doesn’t mean I agree with it.”
“The therapist was your idea,” Jake reminded his uncle.
“I’m aware,” Wade muttered, stabbing a cigarette between his lips. “There’s no need to gloat.”
“No one’s gloating,” Jenkins cut in before the familial arguing could really get going. “We all want what’s best for Helen, and right now that means not rocking the boat.”
“Fine, but this isn’t the end of this discussion.”
“No one’s saying it is,” Jake replied. “We just need to do our research. When there’s something factual to share, I’ll be the first one to do so.”
“Fine. Then let’s start digging up the facts. Where do you reckon we start? DNA test?”
Jake looked down at his hands knowing what he had to say, but wishing there was a way around it now that it seemed the dust had settled between him and his uncle. But Jake had always been a rip-the-Band-Aid-off kind of guy. He’d learned that from Wade, so he afforded his uncle the same courtesy.
“About that …” Jake started.
43
Dana followedGeorge across the pock-marked parking lot to the Jefferson Parish Coroner’s Office. It’d mercifully been a short drive from the New Mission Clinic, which saved Dana the awkward conversation of sharing her suspicions about Dr. Landry.
But now that she was here, she balked.
It wasn’t that she was scared or unprepared for what lay behind the steel doors. During her time with Jake and the FBI, she’d been in plenty of morgues, coroners’ offices, and the like.
Death was an inevitable part of life. More so her life than most, but suddenly the idea of walking through the door felt impossible.
Jake was right. She was a hypocrite, running away from this same situation in D.C. only to end up doing it in New Orleans.
Dana stood frozen in the parking lot. She couldn’t face it. She’d been so wrong the last time. If that happened again …
Noticing the absence of her footsteps, George turned back. His warm whiskey-colored eyes assessed her in a long, unhurried sweep. “You good?”
Dana wiped her clammy palms on her shorts. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
George walked back across the parking lot, stopping in front of her. “If this is too much for you, I understand.”
“It’s not that,” she said. “I want to help, it’s just the last time I went down this road, I was wrong, and everyone I cared about got hurt.”
