I shoot her a wry look as if to say anything I do in my personal life is none of her business.
She doesn’t scare easily. “Good sleeping habits are essential, Isaac. Otherwise, nothing we do will make any difference.” She throws my medical file onto the table between us. When I attempt to snatch it up, she beats me to it. “Nuh-uh. That’s confidential.” She holds it against her chest like it’s a precious gem. “Did you speak with Avery as suggested?”
My brow arches scathingly. “Avery’s chances of getting me in her shrink chair are about as good as you getting me in your everyday office.”
“Yet, you’re here, aren’t you?” Jae fires back, her eyes firing with attitude.
Her pompousness is nipped in the bud when I murmur, “I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for Isabelle.”
In an instant, her friendly, playful mask is replaced with one owned by a woman responsible for over fifty-eight staff and four surgical interns—including Raquel, Regan’s baby sister who sailed through her final year of med school with honors. That’s outstanding considering she had a baby a year ago.
Eager to move this along, I ask, “Are the results in?”
Jae nods a mere second before her lips twist. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t look good.”
“What are the odds?”
The uncomfortableness of our conversation is heard in my voice. I’m not a fan of talking as it is, let alone circumstances out of my control. Exercising control and discipline is all I know, but I’m learning quickly not everything is controllable—especially Isabelle.
“In a standard case, the percentages aren’t too bad, but your odds are lower since you’ve had Hodgkin’s Lymphoma before.” She pulls open her drawer to retrieve a business card from inside. “I’d like you to speak with Dr. Merritt. I tried to contact him on your behalf, but since he handled your stem-cell transplant all those years ago, he’s citing doctor-patient confidentiality. His decades of experience will give us more of an indication of your odds.”
“Can I not sign a waiver and have my file handed over to you?”
Fine lines indent Jae’s forehead when she squints. “You could, but it might take a month or two since Dr. Merritt retired late last year. Considering you like everything done at the speed of lightning, I doubt you’d want the delay.”
She’s right. I wouldn’t. I’m anything but patient.
“All right. I’ll see what I can organize.”
I stand, ready to pay a visit to Dr. Merritt now, but before I get halfway out the door, Jae calls my name. “Before you go.”
I peer back at her in shock, stunned by the sheer panic in her tone. Usually, nothing rattles her. She’s a stickler for her nonchalant demeanor as she is about following the rules.
“I… ah… have something I need to tell you. It’s rather urgent.”
“More urgent than that?” I nudge my head to my partially open file sitting on her desk.
Her throat works hard to swallow before she hesitantly nods. “Quite possibly.”
When I jerk up my chin, demanding her to put me out of my misery, she lowers her eyes to the seat I just stood from. “You’ll want to be sitting for this. You may even need a stiff drink.”
6
Isabelle
Friendships are as frail as glass.
Don’t crack them.
“Did Alex give them any indication about who we’re watching out for?”
Ryan tugs down the wrapper on the loaded kebab he’s in the process of mauling before shaking his head. “No, you know what Alex is like?” I scoff. He has no idea. “He just asked for Ravenshoe PD’s help to monitor this site. Other than that, we’re being kept in the dark.”
“Then why did Elise agree?”
Elise is our supervisor. His name is Castro Elise. He’s as tall and bulky as my previous supervisor, but a menace in every meaning of the word. I thought Alex knew how to ride the asses of those beneath him. He seems like a pussycat compared to Elise.
With his smile beaming, and his eyes glistening, Ryan replies, “Because he figures if he gets right up the FBI’s ass, he’ll become one of them.”
