Page 23 of Hidden
He could tell by the sound of her stride that she no longer struggled with the awkwardness of walking in snowshoes. It hadn’t taken her long to get the hang of them, but now she’d truly settled in.
“She was an FBI agent before she shifted exclusively to psychology,” he said over his shoulder.
“Like behavioral science kind of stuff? Profiling?”
He shook his head, but between his jacket and hat, he wasn’t sure she’d see. “No,” he said. “She was an investigator. They recruited her as a profiler when she finished her PhD, but that wasn’t the work she wanted to do. She worked with them for about a decade then left the agency two years ago. She decided to put her PhD to use and open a practice here in town.”
“And why do you think she’d be good for me?”
He huffed out a small breath of relief at the curiosity in her question. He hadn’t been sure whether to bring this up. Whether she’d want to talk about what brought her to Mystery Lake. But he really did think JJ—the doctor—could help.
“She’s not for everyone. But for someone like you, someone who’s had a sudden change and can’t explain why—or what triggers the issues—she’s very good. She goes at problems like an investigator does. I think she’d be able to help you figure a few things out.”
“Will she interrogate me?” Ellie asked. He heard the smile in her voice.
“It might feel like that at times,” Asher conceded. “Which is why she isn’t for everyone. If someone is looking for a warm and fuzzy counselor, JJ isn’t it. But if you aren’t afraid to dig into the hard stuff—or even if you are afraid but are willing—there’s no one better.”
“JJ?”
“Dr. JJ Garcia. I can put you in touch with her if you want. You don’t need to answer now. But if you decide to stay for a few weeks and want to give her a try, let me know.” He wanted to ask how long she planned to be in Mystery Lake but didn’t. If he only thought of her as a friend, he wouldn’t have hesitated. But he wanted her to stay. For reasons that weren’t entirely platonic. And he knew himself well enough to know that his voice would give his desires away. His desire to spend time with her. His desire to get to know her.
What he did not desire in any way, though, was to become one more person who wanted something from her—her time, her stories, her talent,her. He suspected she had enough of that in her life. If she offered, he’d gladly accept what she gave. Including insight into how long she planned to stay. But he wouldn’t ask.
And so he didn’t. But she didn’t offer, either. Instead, they walked the rest of the way to the waterfall where they stopped to admire the view. The rocky cliff wasn’t large, less than twenty feet tall, but he’d always liked this spot. Being off the beaten path, when he hiked here in any season, he usually found himself alone. It also wasn’t a bad fishing hole in the summer.
Ellie pulled out her phone and took several photos. The snow glowed an almost blue color in the moonlight, and the pine trees looked dotted with white icing. In contrast, the water, reflecting the rocks beneath it, appeared as a gurgling, nearly black ribbon snaking through the landscape.
Ten minutes and lots of pictures later, they headed home. And an hour after that, they were removing their snowshoes in his mudroom and hanging up their coats.
“Can I get you something warm to drink? Coffee? Tea? Hot buttered rum?” he asked.
“Door number three sounds perfect,” she said with a grin as they walked into his house.
“I’ll get those made then build up the fire.”
“If you point me to the fireplace, I can take care of that,” she offered. Then burst into a laugh when he looked at her. He must have done a terrible job of hiding his surprise.
“Sorry, I guess…I just…” He paused, took a breath, then tried again. “I apologize. For all I know, you could have been an amazing Girl Scout. Or maybe you’re a woman who loves to camp. Or one who just loves a good fire. Although I can’t imagine you have the need for them very often in LA.” She was no longer laughing and instead, her dark eyes, lit with curiosity, watched him.
“I forgot for a moment that the whole Hollywood thing is a job,” he continued. “An unusual job, but a job. It doesn’t define who you are. Not entirely anyway. With Cody as my cousin you’d think I’d know better.”
Her expression softened. “My dad and I used to camp all the time. We wouldn’t go far because our car wasn’t that reliable. But we spent a lot of weekends out in the desert. It gets cold at night. One of the first things he taught me was how to start a fire. And how to keep it going.”
“Sounds like a smart man.”
“He is. The best. Now, not to rush things along, but I could really use the hot buttered rum,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.
He chuckled. “The fireplace is in the living room. Follow the hall to the end and you can’t miss it.”
She gave a jaunty salute as she passed by. He might have admired her backside as she walked away. In fact, he was incapable ofnotwatching her backside. When she rounded the corner, though, he hopped to and made his way to the kitchen.
A short while later, he joined her in the living room, handing her a mug before taking a seat. The clock in the hall chimed midnight, but Ellie was perched comfortably on his couch and didn’t seem anxious to leave. And he didn’t mind giving her a few more minutes of peace.
The few minutes turned into an hour as they chatted. At some point, she curled her legs under her and covered them with a throw blanket. He worried she might be too tired to drive back to Sofia’s, but then realized she wasn’t tired. Just relaxed. He wondered how often she had the opportunity to truly relax with other people. Then, thinking about her made him ask himself the same question.
Around his family, he didn’t have to worry about a thing. But at work? Or out and about around town? It seemed he was always “Dr. Warwick.” Everywhere he went. And with the new job he’d taken as the CMO, not only did he have responsibility for the patients he still worked with, but the success of the hospital now rested on his shoulders, too. Taking the new role had seemed like the right thing to do. More than a few people had lobbied him to throw his hat into the ring. And the idea of helping to make the hospital an even better facility appealed to him. The better it was—operationally, administratively, and medically—the more people they could help.
The first time he’d sat down with the audit committee to walk through the hospital financials, he started having doubts, though. Not because there was a problem—no, the hospital was doing well. But he’d hated it. The entire time he’d had this itchy, twitchy need to get back to his patients. To the things that mattered. Or more precisely, the things that mattered to him.
