Page 2 of The Fragile Ones
Two years later
Tuesday 1945 hours
“I’m so proud of how far you’ve come, and really impressed at how hard you’ve been working to tackle your anxiety,” said Dr. Carver, her calm voice and serene expression beaming through the computer screen.
“I’m finally feeling like I’m in control and not the other way around. I can actually say that a weight has been lifted,” said Katie Scott as she took a deep breath and tried to visualize her worries and fears leaving her body as she’d been taught. She then readjusted herself on the couch with Cisco, her jet-black German shepherd, at her side.
“I want to insert a bit of caution,” said Dr. Carver.
Katie didn’t want to hear anything negative to take away how great she had been feeling recently, but she knew that Dr. Carver had been right about many things so far. She braced herself and listened.
“This process will sometimes involve great steps forward and then surprise you with unexpected setbacks, but I don’t want you to become discouraged. Okay?” The doctor continued to makes notes just out of view, pushing her dark hair away from her face to concentrate.
“I understand,” said Katie.
“Do you still have nightmares?”
“Sometimes, but they are becoming less frequent.” The truth was that she had disturbing dreams a couple of times a week, but she’d had them so long that she only really counted the truly terrifying ones. They’d become such a familiar part of her life.
“That is common—so don’t worry. And taking into consideration your job as a cold-case detective and its unique stresses, it’s best to be alert, calm and prepared for what your next case will bring,” she said, and smiled. “There might be some setbacks, but it won’t take away all the hard work you’ve put in. You are in a much better place now.”
It was true. Katie had come a long way since she arrived home a little more than a year ago from two tours in Afghanistan as an army K9 handler. She glanced down at Cisco who was snoozing beside her. Not a day would go by where she wasn’t grateful for being able to bring home her partner with her. “Thank you, Dr. Carver.” She smiled. “I know there will be tough days ahead, and my past experiences will haunt me from time to time—but I’ve never given up on a fight.”
“And that’s when all your new skills and knowledge will kick in, and you’ll be much better prepared.”
“I know now that the first case I took on after I came home from the army caused me more distress than I realized. The image of the graves of those little girls will never leave me.”
“I know, but now you can use the fact that you overcame your demons and solved the case as a strength. Don’t forget what we’ve talked about; how you stay focused and in the moment, counting to ten with each breath. As simple as it sounds, it’s more difficult when you’re in the middle of an attack.”
“Yes. I have several images that help to calm my mind,” she said.
“Well, look, our time’s up for today. And I think that we can meet again in two weeks?”
Nodding, Katie said, “Definitely.”
“You know you can call me anytime, if you need to speak before then. Okay?”
“Thank you.”
“Good night.”
“Good night,” said Katie as the screen went blank, before the screensaver kicked in with a photo of her and Chad—her childhood best friend and now boyfriend. It was amazing how they had found each other again, and on this occasion the timing was right. She smiled, remembering everything they had been through growing up together, and then finding each other again at the perfect moment.
Slowly shutting her laptop, Katie mused that things were falling into place at last. Perhaps for the first time since leaving the army she felt it was possible to be a police detective and lead a normal life. There were things that she had seen that would never be erased from her mind, but she was learning how to live without panic attacks and anxiety paralyzing her. She was learning to forgive her past, and herself.
Chapter Two
Wednesday 1015 hours
Detective Katie Scott left the Sequoia County courtroom where she had been called to testify for a case she had worked involving a missing person, which had turned out to be a murder. She was surprised that she was only questioned for about half an hour and then excused. She would probably be recalled for the defense.
Katie passed a few familiar faces as she descended the marble stairs, heading back to the main entrance. The old Californian courthouse building, originally built in 1895 and named the Muir Building, was still as stunning as it would have been all those years ago; detailed crown moldings and rich, polished mahogany transported you back in time.
Trailing her hand along the wrought-iron railing, Katie stepped off the stairs and hurried to the large wooden doors where Deputy Sean McGaven stood waiting for her. It was difficult to miss him, since he was about six foot six inches tall, and with his cropped light red hair, brown suit and white shirt; he looked official and handsome as he towered over people.
“Hey, Gav,” said Katie as she greeted her partner. “What’s up?”
“Oh great, you’re out already,” he said.
