Greer eyed him over a stack of papers. “You’re not too concerned about any of this.”
“No. As I said before, it’s probably nothing. Soup used to be a good informant, but his reliability has slipped over the last few years as the drugs took over his life. I would not be surprised if he made it all up to squeeze me for money.” Cam leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “And, honestly, I’m more worried about you. You could drive a semi though those bags under your eyes. Tell me the truth, have you been sleeping?”
Greer waved a dismissive hand. “Couple hours a night.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I’ve survived on less.”
“I don’t doubt that. But, here’s the thing, bro. You don’t have to survive on less. So, wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m good.”
“And I’m Iron Man. Seriously, Greer.”
Greer spun his chair toward the little window on the wall behind him, which overlooked the small fenced-in dog park of his apartment complex across the way. A woman stood bundled against the cold as her golden retriever romped through the snow drifts, and Greer focused intently on the two of them.
All right. Cam knew a dismissal when he saw one. He stood, but couldn’t make himself leave. “You ever need to talk, I’ll listen.” He got half way to the door before Greer spoke again.
“Nightmares.”
Damn. Cam paused and glanced back. His brother hadn’t moved, still watched the woman and her dog playing like his life depended on keeping them in his sight. “What kind?”
“Just…nightmares. They’ll go away. Always do.” He cleared his throat and turned away from the window, but only slightly. “Go get some legwork done on the cheating husband case. I’ll close up here.”
Cam left his brother’s office with a knot in his gut. Grabbed his jacket and cell phone from his desk and waited until he was in the 4Runner before dialing a number he’d gotten in Key West.
Seth Harlan answered after a half dozen rings, sounding wary. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Cam Wilde.”
“Cam?” The wariness evaporated into surprise. “Oh. Hi. Uh, what can I do for you?”
“I have a question and it’s kinda personal, but I’m worried about someone, and I need to know the answer.”
A beat of silence came from the other end, and he imagined Seth mentally fortifying himself.
“Okay, I’m ready. Go ahead.”
“How did your PTSD first present itself?”
Seth sucked in a breath. “Nightmares,” he said on the exhale. “About a week after I woke up in the hospital, I started having nightmares.”
“Shit. That’s what I was afraid you’d say.” Except something wasn’t ringing true here. “You said it started about a week after you regained consciousness? Is that a normal time span for the on-set of symptoms?”
“Yeah. Symptoms can appear anytime from right after the traumatic event up to three months later.”
“But not years later.”
“Not usually,” Seth answered. “No.”
Cam stared at the front of the Wilde Security office, an acidic pit opening up in his stomach. Greer had been out of the military for a long time. Too long to just now be experiencing the symptoms of PTSD…so what the fuck was going on?
“It’s your oldest brother you’re worried about, isn’t it?” Seth asked softly.
Surprise rippled through Cam, and he returned his full attention to the phone. “How’d you know?”
“I saw it in him at Jude’s wedding. He was jumpy, crowd made him nervous. At first I thought I was projecting, but…” He paused. “If you want to give me his number, I can talk to him. Dunno how much good I’ll do because I’m a head case myself, but maybe I can help.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
Seth made a sound that might have been a laugh. “You Wildes are all the same. You don’t owe me shit.”
…
A Kit Kat bar sat on Eva’s desk when she returned from a disastrous day in court. Christ, did she ever need the chocolate pick-me-up. The judge had declared a key piece of evidence inadmissible, which made her testimony irrelevant and was going to seriously hurt the prosecution’s case against Charles Dunphy.
The memory of his brother Gordon’s smug smile as she exited the courtroom still made her blood run cold.
Eva unwrapped the candy, broke off a piece, and searched for Cam. He was the only one who ever dropped chocolate on her desk, so he had to be here…
She spotted him talking to a few other detectives over by the coffee maker and waved. He caught her gaze and smiled faintly, then excused himself from the conversation.
“Thanks for the chocolate,” she said as he approached and bit into a piece.
“Figured you’d need it. I heard about what happened in court today.”
“Sheesh. Good news travels,” she said, heavy on the sarcasm, and took another bite of her candy.