Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Rebecca Tate. Now that I see it printed, I recognize the last name. Lindsay brought her up every so often. She’s the only person my wife ever mentioned from her past other than Ronny Burgundy, and she rarely mentioned him. Preferred never to talk about him and the hell he put her through. She had moved on completely—he was a non-entity as far as she was concerned.
I stop pacing, lean against the window, and stare blankly outside.
My mind wanders to the dusting of snow on the ground, the way it softens everything. It clings to rooftops and tree limbs, quiet and cold, untouched by the chaos.
I walk out of the office and into my living room. The photo of Lindsay and Julia on the mantel stares at me. Her smile is bright, her eyes shining with happiness and love.
Damn.
I truly thought she and I would be together forever with Julia and eventually another child. That I’d be one of the greatest surgeons in the country.
That…
Yeah, I thought a lot of things.
Life can change in an instant.
R. Lyon.
I doubt that it stands for Rebecca. Lindsay didn’t mention that Rebecca might have been a lesbian. Of course, it’s possible Lindsay didn’t know. Or she didn’t mention it. Being gay isn’t that big a deal anymore, and it was a rare occurrence for her to talk about her past anyway.
The R from the Facebook post has to be Ronny Burgundy. The old boyfriend who was so obsessed with Lindsay that her entire family made a move from New Jersey to Colorado when she left for college.
Odd, though.
Ronny never contacted her after that.
Unless he did… And Lindsay didn’t tell me.
An internet search does me no good. While there are many Ron and Ronald Burgundys online, some of them in New Jersey, not one of them stands out as the one who might be Lindsay’s Ronny. Besides, most of what I find are Anchorman gifs.
A search of court documents yields few results as well. If Ronny was still underage when all this happened—and since they were in high school, he could very well still have been seventeen—records wouldn’t be available anyway.
How is this even happening?
Just when I fall in love again. Just when I have the chance to regain function in my right hand so I may be able to perform surgery again.
As soon as I decide to move on… The past comes back to haunt me.
It’s eight o’clock, and I don’t have classes scheduled today.
No more emails from HR, thank God. Unless they hear from the anonymous source again, they’ll consider this a closed case.
I head to Facebook to look at Lindsay’s memorial page on my desktop computer—
Everything cuts. Screen black. Silence.
An instant later, my computer restarts. A simple electricity blip.
Then the annoying beep of my motion security system. I rise, head to the kitchen where the keypad is, and reset it.
I sigh.
Maybe Angie is home.
If I were a better man, I’d leave her out of this. I’d let her go about her life, finish medical school. Go into psychiatry. Help make the world a better place, because if anyone can, she can.
My phone buzzes.
“Hello?” I say without bothering to look at who it is.
“Hello. Is this Dr. Jason Lansing?” The voice is male and accented.
“You found him.”
“Dr. Lansing, hello. My name is Dr. Carlos Engel. I believe we met last year at the Dean’s Ball.”
Carlos Engel.
Right, Professor of psychiatry. And the therapist Dr. Steel thought would be a good fit for me.
“What can I do for you, Dr. Engel?”
“I believe it’s what I can do for you, Dr. Lansing.”
“And what’s that?” I say, my words coming out clipped.
“Our mutual colleague, Dr. Melanie Steel, has been in touch with me. She felt I might be a good fit for you for a few sessions regarding an experimental surgery.”
“Do you even see patients anymore?”
“Only on a referral basis,” Dr. Engel says. “Much like Dr. Steel, I’m retired except for the few classes I teach. But I come out of retirement for special projects.”
“I see. Dr. Steel told you I was a special project?”
“She explained the situation to me.”
“So HIPAA be damned.”
He chuckles. “It doesn’t apply, as I’m sure you’re aware. Dr. Steel was consulting with me.”
He’s right, of course. I should’ve left out the HIPAA comment. But psychiatry still grates on me.
Except…
If Lindsay didn’t kill herself…
If she was murdered…
It’s not the first time I’ve had this thought.
Maybe psychiatry could have helped her. Maybe it was helping her.
Maybe we just didn’t wait long enough to find out.
And maybe this Dr. Engel can help me with that.
“Can you see me today?” I ask.
“I was going to suggest tomorrow,” Dr. Engel says. “But I could move a few things around. Maybe two this afternoon? At my office at the medical school?”
“Done. I don’t have any classes today, so I’m free. I’ll see you at two o’clock.”