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She knew Tyler better now than she had before, but she also knew that he wasn't looking for a relationship. And she wasn't good at casual flings. She never had been. Sex was never just sex for her. She didn't sleep with people she didn't like. There was always more to it than that. Not that she'd had many casual or serious romances in the past several years. She'd been too busy working, building her career, and transitioning from the military to civilian life.

Recently, she had started to feel like she was missing out on the personal side of life, but this wasn't the time to dive into that. She had a mystery to solve and that was the only reason she and Tyler were spending time together. She needed to remember that and also maybe not drink so much wine when she was with him, because it had given her all kinds of bad ideas.

A knock came at her office door. She straightened, putting on her professional smile. "Come in."

Lily Chow entered with a bowl in her hand. "My mom insisted I bring you some dumplings. I'll put them in the refrigerator with your name on it. If you hate them, you don't have to eat them."

"I'm sure I won't hate them. That was really sweet of her." She was touched by Lily's generosity. Lily was always looking out for everyone in their group.

"My mom loves to cook, and all of her kids are out of the house now, so she's always looking for a new audience."

"I know how she feels. It's not nearly as much fun to cook for one as it is to cook for more people."

"Any news on Mr. Barrone's disappearance?"

"I think he may have sought treatment elsewhere, maybe a private clinic. Do you know of any in the city? I haven't been in Manhattan that long, and I haven't looked into private treatment facilities for PTSD-related disorders."

Lily thought for a moment. "I think there's a clinic on the Upper East Side. The name might be Worthington, something that sounds kind of rich. Do you want me to research for you?"

"No. I'll do it. Thanks."

"I better go. Patients are starting to arrive. Don't forget your dumplings when you get hungry."

After Lily left, she opened her computer and checked her schedule. She had two patients this morning, one at ten, one at eleven, and she had a consult at noon with Ethan on another patient they were treating together. Her afternoon was free, since her one-thirty patient had canceled. She frowned at the crossed-off name, Marty Jenkins. He'd missed his last appointment, too.

In light of what had happened with Jack, she couldn't help but wonder just how many of her patients had started canceling their appointments. That would probably take more time than she had now, so she made a note to check into that later and used the next fifteen minutes to look for facilities in the area that might have seemed like a good alternative for Jack.

At the end of her search, she had three good possibilities, including one called Waverly Health, a concierge practice specializing in battle-related post-traumatic stress disorders, neurological issues, traumatic brain injuries, sleep issues, anxiety and depression. Their website listed reviews from patients saying they had finally found relief after years of suffering. That seemed like a place Jack would like. The concierge setup would require cash up front, and Jack had asked Evan for a loan, so that might be the best place to investigate first. She wanted to dig deeper, but she was out of time, so she put on her coat and went to see her first patient.

For the next two hours, she focused solely on the people in front of her, wanting to do as thorough a job as she could. She'd thought she'd made listening to her patients a priority, but the issues with Jack made her wonder if that was true. Maybe she was missing something during her examinations that might not be physical but more of an emotional need that was affecting their recovery.

At noon, she headed to Ethan's office to consult with him on a female veteran by the name of Sheila Harris. Sheila had been experiencing tremors as well as unexplained skin rashes on her hands and arms. The tests for the usual diagnoses were coming out negative. She was hoping Ethan could shed some light on what was going on.

When she got to his office, his PA, Naomi Randall, was sitting at her desk. Naomi was a curvy redhead with beautiful brown eyes and a friendly smile.

"Is Ethan free?" Rachel asked.

"Not yet," Naomi replied, her usual smile turning into one of annoyance. "He's finishing up a sales call with a pharmaceutical rep."

"No problem. I can wait. How are you doing today?"

"I'm fine," Naomi said, unable to stop a sigh from escaping her lips.

"You don't sound fine."

"I'm just irritated. Some of these pharmaceutical reps are so pushy, and Ethan never seems to want to say no to their request for his time, especially when they're pretty, which they all seem to be. Do these companies ever hire anyone who doesn't look like a model, or isn't a woman? I mean, I wouldn't mind seeing a nice-looking guy show up once in a while."

She wondered if there wasn't a hint of jealousy in Naomi's voice. Since Ethan had separated from his wife, he seemed to be generating even more interest from the staff. "Being a female doctor, I usually get the good-looking guys," she said. "The companies are very good at selling."

"I know. Don't mind me. I didn't sleep last night. My neighbor's dog was barking for hours."

"That's too bad."

Naomi jumped up as the office door opened, and a tall, willowy brunette wearing a tight skirt and an even more form-fitting blouse stepped out in a cloud of perfume. The rep turned back to give Ethan a sultry smile. "I look forward to hearing from you, Dr. Hollander."

"I'll be in touch," Ethan replied.

As the woman breezed past them, Ethan waved them into his office.