She sighed. Of course Papa would know. Her combination had been her parents’ wedding anniversary. Tell him I will. Thx for all. See u soon.
A throat clearing above her had her looking up. A man in his late thirties, early forties was alternating between looking at her and looking through the window at Adam, his expression worried. He wore a dark blue suit, slightly rumpled, his tie tugged away from his collar, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. His blond hair was silver at the tips, his eyes accented with faded crow’s feet, as if he laughed a lot.
A prickle of alarm skittered down her spine, and she felt the urge to bolt for Isenberg’s office door, but she shoved it away. She was going to have to be prepared for fear when she met new people for a while. The last new person who’d walked up to her had pulled a gun and then gotten killed in front of her.
She knew her fear now was unfounded. She was in the middle of the police station, for goodness’ sake. But she also knew PTSD happened in cases like hers. She didn’t plan to be one of those therapists who ignored her own symptoms. She met new people every damn day, so she was going to have to deal.
‘I don’t work here,’ she said, conjuring a polite smile. ‘But I’m sure someone else here can help you.’
‘It’s okay. I work here. Well, not here on Isenberg’s task force. Or in Homicide.’ He stuck out his hand, revealing the shoulder holster he wore, complete with service weapon. ‘Detective Hanson, Narcotics Division.’
Meredith shook his hand, still smiling politely even though she still wanted to run. ‘Do I know you?’ Because she felt like she should.
‘We’ve never met, no. I’m a friend of Detective Kimble’s.’ He pointed to the window where Adam, Trip, and Isenberg had gathered around Isenberg’s laptop. Adam looked up at that moment, his gaze landing first on Meredith before noticing Detective Hanson and his eyes widened, his mouth curving into a rueful smile. He held up his right hand, flexing four fingers in a ‘come-here’ gesture, followed by his index finger ticking like a clock.
Sign language, Meredith realized, and searched her memory for the meaning. She knew a few signs because Deacon and Dani’s younger brother was deaf and they signed to him. She’d practiced hard the few times Greg had joined their group for a barbecue or party, but what she’d learned seemed to seep out of her head as soon as the young man said goodbye. Languages had never been her forte and sign wasn’t looking to be any different.
Adam, she knew, was fluent, as were Dani and Deacon. Even Faith was learning, since Greg Novak was soon to become her brother-in-law.
‘Fifteen,’ Hanson supplied, startling her. ‘He said he’d be done in fifteen minutes.’
Meredith regarded the man with curiosity. ‘You know sign language?’
‘A little. Adam and I have been friends since high school. He taught me a few signs.’ He indicated the chair at the next desk. ‘May I?’
She shrugged. ‘Like I said, I don’t work here.’
He eased himself into the desk’s chair. ‘I was also Adam’s first partner, when he was fresh out of the academy. I was a few years ahead experience-wise because he went to college first. He taught me some sign back then because it came in handy when we needed to silently communicate. I kept it up.’
‘Really?’ Meredith wondered exactly how much of Adam’s personal information this man planned to tell – for all he knew – a complete and total stranger.
He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I know who you are, Dr Fallon.’
Busted, she thought. Her poker face was not fully functional when she hadn’t properly slept. ‘How?’
‘You’re all over the newspapers, for one. Also, I used to work Personal Crimes. Several of the victims whose cases I worked were referred to you afterward.’
‘Oh. That’s how I know your name.’ She grimaced. ‘Saying thank you seems wrong for this occasion. Those were hard cases. When did you leave Personal Crimes?’
‘Just a few months ago. It just got to be too much. I also worked ICAC, but I had to get out of that department too. Wears on you after a while.’
Meredith controlled her shudder, but just barely. The officers in the Internet Crimes Against Children department had to view photos she couldn’t stomach even thinking about.
‘I’m sure it does,’ she murmured. Providing therapy to the victims wore on her and she was only hearing about it after the fact.
‘I figured you’d understand.’ Hanson shifted his gaze back to Adam, eyeing him through the window. ‘How’s he doing?’
She couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘Please?’
‘Adam. I know you’re friends. He’s mentioned you before. You’ve helped in the past. Helped him find his center.’
She said nothing and he glanced back at her. ‘Sorry,’ he said shortly. ‘I didn’t mean to overstep. I just worry about him every time he gets on a . . . messy case.’
She continued to regard him steadily. ‘I don’t understand.’
He shrugged uncomfortably. ‘I was his partner again fifteen months ago. Right before he took his medical leave. I watched him fall apart once. I’m not keen on seeing it happen again.’ He met Meredith’s gaze. ‘I don’t want details. I just want to be sure that he’s all right. I’ve known Adam since we were kids. Our dads are close. He has people who care about him, even if he doesn’t want us to.’
That, at least, made sense, she thought. ‘Well, he’ll be out soon, so you can ask him.’
The detective gave her a considering look that bordered on admiration. ‘Well, good. I’m glad he has you in his corner, Dr Fallon. A lesser person might have blabbed. Thank you for keeping his secrets.’
She smiled at him serenely. She’d been around enough cops to recognize backhanded interrogation techniques and there was no way she was spilling any of what she knew. Mostly because she never would share Adam’s secrets, but partly because she wasn’t sure exactly what those secrets were.
It means that I’m an alcoholic.
She swallowed back the sigh and inclined her head. ‘Again, saying thank you doesn’t seem appropriate here. But . . . thank you.’
Chuckling, he twisted in the chair, pulling his wallet from his back pocket, taking out a plastic photo keeper that was stuffed full of photos. He searched each little pocket until he made a satisfied sound. He rolled the chair closer to Meredith’s, holding out one of the photos. ‘That’s us. I’m the one on the left,’ he added.
Meredith took the picture, her mouth curving of its own volition. Two boys in baseball uniforms stood, arms over each other’s shoulders. One dark, one light. The boy on the right was clearly Adam Kimble. He had boyish good looks even then. Both wore grass stains on their knees and huge smiles on their faces. ‘How old were you?’
‘He was sixteen. I was almost eighteen. We were only a grade apart, though. Adam was a fair student, but I’d been held back a year in middle school, which I basically hated the world for, but it turned out okay. If I hadn’t been kept back, I would’ve graduated two years ahead of him and we wouldn’t have played for the same team in high school. Those were good days.’
She smiled fondly at the photo. ‘Did you win?’
‘Went to the state playoffs, but lost in the quarter finals. Adam played another year. That year they went on to win the state championship. Adam ended up getting a baseball scholarship to college, which was good because with his grades? Well, let’s just say it was good he could hit a home run like nobody else, because he was never gonna ace math.’
‘Hm,’ she said, torn between annoyance at his criticism of Adam and temptation to ask for more details. But she really wanted to hear Adam’s story from Adam, so she handed Hanson back the picture.