They followed the doctor down the short hall to the conference room. He sat at the middle of the table. Angel and the guys stood around. The doc sighed. “Gentlemen, seats, please.” They sat, fast, like players in a round of musical chairs. “Are you all here for the same friend of Angel’s?”
Kit was sitting opposite the doc. He leaned forward, putting his folded hands on the table. “It’s Rocco. You’ve seen him once.”
Dr. Kimble frowned. “You think he’s suicidal?”
Angel set Rocco’s bullet on the table. The room got silent as they all looked at it. “His girlfriend found this in the place where he goes to get away from us.”
Dr. Kimble leaned forward and punched a button on the conference phone. “Gretchen, I need you to clear my calendar for today, and move things around for the next couple of weeks so that I have at least a three-hour window each morning.”
“Yes, doctor.”
“What can you tell me about what’s happening with him?”
Angel looked at Kit, letting him spill the beans. “Rocco was on an extended undercover mission in Afghanistan. He married the daughter of a warlord who was the focus of his investigation. They had a boy, then when she was pregnant with their second child, she blew herself and the whole village to smithereens. For a long while, it was thought that his son was dead, but he never believed that. When his boy was returned to him, we thought his PTSD would improve. And it did, for a while. He’s in a relationship with my sister now, and she’s expecting their first child. It seems to have inflamed his PTSD all over again.”
“May I ask what the nature of your current work here in Wyoming is?”
Angel looked at Kit, who said, “We’re bounty hunters.”
Dr. Kimble’s brows lifted. “Bounty hunters.” He looked around the table. “Is Wyoming harboring an unusually large number of criminals these days?”
Kit didn’t blink. “Enough to keep us busy.”
“I see. And what is it that Rocco does for you?”
“He’s an analyst.”
“Uh-huh.” Dr. Kimble dropped his gaze to his pad of paper, on which he’d made no notes. “So suffice it to say that you aren’t inclined to—or can’t—tell me the truth, but what you do is dangerous.”
“Correct.”
“Is it possible that what Rocco does in his job impacts his triggers? Can he take a leave of absence?”
“It may impact him, and absolutely he can, if it would help,” Kit said. “We’re at a loss, doc. We don’t know what to do. And this bullet proves his situation is far worse than we thought.”
“Was he injured during his undercover assignment?”
“Yes, from that explosion I mentioned. He lost his memory, lost track of his son, lost his wife and unborn child, and was taken prisoner and held in a pit. After we extracted him, he had a lengthy stay at Walter Reed. When they decided he was mended enough, they sent him on his way with a suitcase full of pills. He was living in his truck when I caught up with him again a few months later.”
Dr. Kimble forced a breath from his compressed lips, making a hissed whistle. He was silent for a long minute, as was the entire room. Angel wondered where he went in his mind. Back to the war and his own transition to civilian life? God, Angel hoped this shrink could get through to Rocco, but he honestly doubted Rocco’s receptivity.
“How’s Rocco sleeping?” Dr. Kimble asked.
“He’s not sleeping with his girlfriend,” Angel answered.
Max frowned and added, “He’s been crashing in the bunkroom.”
“All right. I’m going to request his file from Walter Reed.”
Kit lifted his brows then tilted his head. “Good luck with that. Not sure Rocco will be willing to have you see that stuff.”
“I have a signed release form from him as part of his new patient package.” Dr. Kimble stood up, ending the meeting. “I’ll just get that going, then I’ll come over to chat with him.” He shook hands with Kit and Angel. “You know, Rocco has something very powerful going for him that a lot of vets don’t: a band of brothers who love him and who stay in his business.” He looked around at the group as they stood near the door. “He may not appreciate it right now, but when he gets past this crisis, maybe past a dozen other crises, he’ll thank you for that.”
Chapter Seven
“Rocco,” Kit said, breaking into Rocco’s concentration. “Dr. Kimble is upstairs to see you.”
“Why? I don’t see him again until next week.”
“I asked him to come over and talk to you.”
“Why?”
Kit held up the bullet he’d gotten from Angel. “Because of this.”
“Fuck that. There are a few thousand rounds of them in the weapons room. What’s the big deal about one bullet?”
“That’s something you can talk to Dr. Kimble about.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“I don’t care. It’s a direct order. Get up there and talk to him.”
Rocco shut the notebook he’d been writing in and slammed it down on the conference table as he got to his feet. “You know, Kit, you’re a pain in my ass.”