Page 214 of Back in the Saddle

“Julien,” Mr. Johnson stuck out a hand. “It was you I talked to on the phone.”

“Yes, sir,” Cap said (Julien, obviously, was his real name), taking Mr. Johnson’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

They broke and he offered his hand to Mrs. Johnson.

She took it, they squeezed, and he stepped back and looked at Eric.

“Where’s Chris?” he asked.

“They’re finding him. We’re uncertain he should see his folks, though,” Eric told him.

Raye looked at me for guidance.

I shrugged and asked, “Scott and Louise?” as my suggestion of who would know.

“I called them on the way. They’re coming. But I’ll call again and see what they think,” she replied and stepped away, pulling out her phone.

“Scott and Louise?” Mr. Johnson asked.

“The people I mentioned,” Eric explained. “They run a non-profit that deals in affordable housing and the unhoused.”

“Oh,” Mr. Johnson mumbled.

“Mace is coming too, bringing Roam,” Cap told Eric. “Scott said the best way to do this, is you and me explaining things to Chris, then escorting him to the hospital.”

“Explaining things?” Eric asked.

Cap nodded. “In a way he understands.”

“A mission?” Eric suggested.

“Or R and R?” Cap replied.

“What are they talking about?” Mrs. Johnson inquired.

I had to think quickly about how much I’d want to know if Chris was my blood.

Since I’d want to know it all, I shared, “Cap, or Julien, was the one who was in the Army. Eric was in the FBI. Your son senses that they’ve served in their ways, and as such, he views them as his superiors and accepts orders from them.”

“Makes sense,” Mr. Johnson said on a nod.

Mrs. Johnson turned her face away because it made no sense to her seeing as her son wasn’t in the military anymore.

God, this was theworst.

“Maybe we can go and get some coffee somewhere while Jess and the men figure things out,” Raye proposed.

Mrs. Johnson definitely didn’t like that proposition.

Mr. Johnson dipped his head to hers and said, “Let’s let them see how Chris is, darlin’.”

Her lip trembled before she got a hold on it, and she told her husband, “Nathan, I want to see my son.”

“I want to see him too, baby. But if there’s even the slightest chance we’re going to make this harder on our boy, harder for them to get him to people who can help him, I want no part in it.”

Mrs. Johnson warred with this.

It took a while.

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