Melt (Steel Brothers Saga #4)(22)

“Yeah. She’s getting better. Although I wouldn’t put it past her to hold on to being taken care of for as long as she can.”

I smiled. “Some people are like that.”

“I’ll tell you, Doc. Jade and her mom both have those gorgeous steely blue eyes, but other than that, I can’t imagine how this woman gave birth to Jade. They’re nothing alike. Not just in looks but in personality and demeanor. So completely different.”

“From what you told me, Jade is more like her father.”

He nodded. “Yeah, he’s a great guy. She looks more like him too.”

I glanced at the clock on the table. My time with Talon was nearly up. I appreciated his need to talk about Jade’s mom staying at the house, but that wasn’t really what we were here for. So I got ready to change the subject.

I was startled by a knock on the door. Randi knew better than to interrupt me when I was in session.

“I’m very sorry, Talon. Would you excuse me for a moment?” I went to the door. Instead of letting Randi in, I walked out into the reception area. A man I didn’t recognize sat on a chair, leafing through a magazine.

“What’s going on?” I asked Randi.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Carmichael,” Randi said, “but he insists upon seeing you right now. I tried to explain that I couldn’t interrupt a session, but he threatened to make a scene.”

I looked over to the man. “Sir, I have no idea who you are, but this is entirely inappropriate.”

He stood, staring at me with intense blue eyes. He didn’t look happy. “I don’t rightly care about the rules, Dr. Carmichael. I came to talk to you, and I aim to do so.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Rodney Cates, Gina’s father.”



Talon had been very gracious when I cut his session short. Now I sat in my office across from Gina Cates’s father. He was a tall, muscular man, average-looking, with sandy-brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a tweed jacket and jeans. He was a professor at the University of Colorado. Gina had told me all about him. I probably knew more about him than he would be comfortable with.

“Dr. Cates, I would be happy to talk to you anytime. You know that. But it’s not appropriate for you to come storming into my office and interrupt a session with one of my patients.”

“As I see it, the patient who left here is still very much alive. So I think I take precedence.”

Clearly there was going to be no reasoning with him. I mentally berated myself. He was no doubt here because of the stupid phone call I’d made the other night.

“I am so very sorry for your loss, and I am happy to discuss anything you would like to discuss. You’ll have to make an appointment. I have another patient coming in fifteen minutes.”

“Cancel.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because again, that patient happens to be alive. He or she can reschedule.”

“Need I remind you, Dr. Cates, that you are also alive? Therefore, you can call my office and schedule a time to talk to me.” I stood, hoping I was pulling off an image of control when inside I was shaking. “Make sure you leave your number with Randi.”

He stood as well, towering over me. “I don’t think you’re understanding me. I came to talk to you now, and that is what I’m going to do.”

My pulse started racing. I wasn’t exactly frightened. After all, Randi was right outside, and my cell phone sat on the table next to me. However, I did not like this man or his tone, and I was experiencing discomfort. No. Definitely more than that. Goosebumps prickled my flesh. I was frightened. But showing my fear would only give him what he wanted.

I picked up my cell, my knuckles white with tension, and stood. “You will make an appointment.”

He came toward me, closing in on my space. I sat back down in my chair.

Now my heart started thumping. “I’m going to have to ask you to back off,” I said.

“I did not come here to harm you. I am not a violent man. But I lost my daughter, Dr. Carmichael, and you will hear me out.”

Anxiety coursed through me. “Fine,” I relented. “You have ten minutes. After that, I have a patient who booked this time in advance. I will be happy to speak to you further, but we will have to decide on a time that is mutually agreeable.”

He sat down, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for not losing it. Hopefully he could say what he wanted to say in ten minutes.

“All right.”

“Now, what was so important that you barged into my office and interrupted my session?”

He sighed. “I had to take my wife to the hospital today.”

“I’m very sorry. Is she ill?”

He shook his head. “No. At least not in the way you mean. I had to admit her to the mental wing here at Valleycrest.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“What did you expect? The woman lost her child. She hasn’t been able to cope. We’ve tried therapy. We’ve tried medication. First the psychiatrist thought she had situational depression and that it would run its course. That she was grieving. Well, of course she was grieving, but it didn’t get any better.”

“Again, I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.