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“Here,” Jake said, pulling his dog tags from his pocket and giving them back to Dana. “Hang onto these for me since I can’t be out there with you.”
Dana started to object, but Jake stopped her with a look. The dark storm clouds parted in his eyes as he said, “What you did for me, getting that number … I should’ve said thank you. So let me say it now.”
Dana let him drape the cool metal chain around her neck. She reached up and ran her fingers over the raised letters and braille. She knew how much the dog tags meant to Jake and what it meant that he kept giving them to her. Emotions too heavy for words overwhelmed her.
With nothing left to say, she drew her feet up onto the couch and leaned into Jake, happy just to be beside him sharing a stolen moment while they could.
82
Fingers wrappedaround her travel mug, Danasat in her car, drinking her tea in the St. Ann’s parking lot. So far Hartwell’s breadcrumbs hadn’t bore fruit, so she was following her own hunch about Dvita.
The weather was even more miserable today. A winter chill dug its icy claws into the fragile spring morning. Dana knew the war would be spring’s, but with the frost covering the ground it was hard to imagine the emergence of fresh green shoots just around the corner.
She didn’t know what she admired more. Spring’s persistence, or winter’s fortitude.
She would need both to get through today.
Richter showed up right on time, and they both ascended the stone stairs together. The tone inside the rectory was more somber than the last time Dana was there. Then again, the group was now permanently short two members.
Cash Holloway and Kylie Marx would never share with their peers again, but their presence was everywhere. Dana heard their names whispered on the lips of every cluster of patients she passed.
“Where’s Dvita?” Richter asked.
Dana nodded to the nave, where most of the room was gathered. “There,” she said. “He’s always at the center of things.”
“Typical narcissistic behavior,” Richter replied.
“Not exactly an ideal characteristic for a therapist.”
Richter raised an eyebrow. “We’re here to observe, not judge.”
“Right.” Dana chewed on her thumbnail, missing Jake’s sarcastic wit. He would’ve said something like,He probably has commitment issues, too.And Dana would’ve smiled inappropriately, and elbowed him in the side, which always soothed her nerves in times like these.
As though he could feel Dana’s gaze on him, Dvita turned and looked directly at her. His demeanor quickly changed, his dark eyes narrowing as he excused himself from the group and marched toward them. “Dr. Gray, it’s good to see you.” But his voice said otherwise. He looked past her. “Where’s Nancy?”
“Claire’s not coming today,” Dana replied.
“What? Why not? I imagine she’s in a fragile state considering the news. She and Betty were quite close.”
Richter spoke up, saving Dana from answering. “SSA Grant Richter, FBI.”
Dvita looked at Richter’s outstretched hand but didn’t take it. “I’m sorry. This isn’t an appropriate time for whatever this is. I’m about to conduct a private group session.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Dana replied.
Dvita glared at her. “You invited him?”
“We’re only here to observe,” Richter said, retracting his hand and attempting to calm Dvita’s outrage, but he wasn’t having it.
His bearded face reddened, cheeks puffing out like an angry blowfish as he stammered. “I-I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Are you stating you’d prefer to interfere with a federal investigation?” Richter questioned.
“What? No!” Dvita denied. “But this is not how I conduct business. If there are matters you’d like to discuss, I’ll have to insist we do it in private, at my office.”
Richter shook his head. “Not necessary. For the time being we’re just here to observe.”
“Am I part of a formal investigation?” Dvita demanded.
