“Yes, but maybe I could swing by your office afterward.”
A frown flitted. “I’m not going into my office today. Why don’t you just tell me what this is about?”
“I’d rather not get into it on the street,” Adam said. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee? The diner is just a few blocks over. It’s an easy walk from here.”
Her expression was easy to read. She wanted to turn him down but not as much as she wanted to hear what he had to say about Dr. Nance.
“There’s a coffee shop just down the street. That’s more convenient. I only have a few minutes,” she warned. “There’s someplace I need to be.”
“Not a problem. This won’t take long.” His phone rang and he glanced at the screen, noting the name with a scowl. Meredith Cassidy was the police psychologist assigned to his case after the shooting in Dallas. Stress debriefings and trauma intervention following a major event were routine in large police departments, or so Adam had always thought. He wondered how he’d remained so naive all these years. A decade with the Dallas PD and he was just now learning how politically motivated psych evaluations could be.
“Trouble?” Nikki asked.
He realized he was still frowning at his phone and he gave her an apologetic glance. “No, but I should probably take this. I’ll make it quick.”
She looked as if she regretted agreeing to their talk, but then she shrugged and nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll wait for you at the coffee shop. Straight ahead and to the right. You can’t miss it.”
“Wait!”
She’d already started to walk away, but turned when he called out to her.
“Does the number forty-seven mean anything to you?” he asked.
She looked puzzled. “What?”
“The number forty-seven. Did it have special significance to Dr. Nance?”
“Of course it did.”
Her matter-of-fact response startled him. “What does it mean?”
Her gaze dropped to his phone. “Take your call. We can talk about it when you’re finished.”
He watched her walk away as he lifted the phone to his ear.
“Hello, Dr. Cassidy. Can I assume you’re calling to tell me you’ve signed off on my reinstatement?”
“I only wish it were that simple, Adam. You’ve missed your last two appointments. You know I can’t recommend you for active duty until you come back in and talk things through with me.”
“Haven’t we already done that?” He squinted into the sun as he eyed the park across the street. A man wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses sat on a shaded bench, texting on his phone. He was a big guy and Adam’s mind instantly flashed back to the gunfire last night, to the near miss on the steps and the spray of bullets in the water. He couldn’t say with any certainty that the man on the bench was the shooter. He’d never gotten a good look at the suspect. But the stranger’s proximity to the police station made Adam wonder if he’d been followed from the lake into town.
As if prodded by Adam’s scrutiny, the man glanced up. When he saw that he’d been spotted, he rose from the bench and walked quickly away.
“Adam? Are you there?”
He’d forgotten about the therapist. Adam stepped off the curb, phone still to his ear. “Yes, I’m here.”
“Are you still having nightmares?”
“No. As a matter of fact, I’m sleeping like a baby these days.”
“And the headaches?”
He hesitated. “Better.”
“Well, these seem like significant developments,” she said encouragingly. “Why don’t you make an appointment for sometime next week? We can discuss any other changes, good or bad, you may be experiencing.”
He glanced both ways before crossing the street. A horn blared and he put up a hand as he hurried out of the way of oncoming traffic. The man in the park glanced back at the commotion. The bill of the cap was pulled low over his face, shading his features. He paused for a moment as if daring Adam to pursue him. Then he turned and headed down one of the pathways toward the wooded area of the park.
“Adam? Are you all right? You seem distracted.”
He pressed the phone to his ear. “I’m fine. I’m out of town at the moment. I’ll have to give you a ring when I get back to Dallas.”
“Where are you?”
“We’ll talk soon, Doc.”
He ended the call and slipped the phone in his pocket as he opened the park gate and stepped through. It was a busy place. Kids were out of school for the summer and looking for a place to hang out. In a quieter corner, mothers and caregivers sat reading or chatting on shady benches while toddlers and preschoolers played nearby.
Adam was acutely aware of all those soft targets. He slowed, putting distance between himself and the man in the ball cap. One thing to risk his own hide, but quite another when it came to innocent bystanders.
Only when his quarry had disappeared into the trees did Adam speed his steps, keeping an eye on his surroundings as the sound of laughter faded in the background.
The trees thickened as the paved pathway gave way to a series of dirt jogging trails. The oak leaf canopy blocked the sun so that it was cool and dim in the woods. Lots of shadows. Lots of places to hide.
He didn’t meet a single soul on the trail. He might have been in the middle of nowhere but for the occasional shriek of laughter behind him and the muted sound of traffic in front of him. He came out of the trees onto another busy street. He glanced over his shoulder. Glanced both ways down the sidewalk. The man in the ball cap was nowhere to be found.
Adam waited for a few minutes longer before he turned and retraced the trail through the woods. He came out on the other side of the park, transitioning from the shade into the brilliant glare of sunlight. He walked down to the nearest intersection to cross back over. He had the light. The truck
