ZERO HERO (The Kate Huntington Mystery series) (2 page)

            “He’s applied for the former, but the wheels grind slowly. I’m looking into the latter. It’s iffy. Requirements are that he was working the scene for at least four hours that day. He’s got no idea how long it was. He just grabbed the guy’s gear and started running in and out of the building. When the tower came down, he and the kids he was carrying were trapped in the debris. He was knocked out. Woke up in the hospital, with a concussion and smoke inhalation. He was released the next day, and there never was any documentation that he’d participated in the rescue efforts.”

            “So it’s just his word he was helping with the evacuation,” she said, “and even he doesn’t know for how long.”

            Rob nodded. “My staff had a hell of a time finding out what happened to the kids.”

           
What’s that got to do with the legal case?
Kate’s butterflies were back.

            “But you did.” She braced herself. From his expression, the news wasn’t good.

            “There were two kids transported around the same time as Pete, from that area of Ground Zero. One went to the morgue. The other one survived but his parents were killed. He’s fourteen now, living with an aunt in New Jersey.”

            Rob paused to take a deep breath. “I just found out this morning the rest of the story with the little girl. Fran managed to track down her next of kin, an uncle. Again her parents were killed that day. Fran got permission to get the autopsy report. Little girl was already dead from smoke inhalation, before the building came down. Pete feels horrible that he didn’t save her. I keep telling him to focus on all the people he did save.”

            He paused again, then continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I was really hoping you’d take his case. I know there are other good therapists out there but he needs the best.”

            She knew he wasn’t trying to flatter her. She
was
one of the best trauma recovery specialists in the Baltimore area. “I’m thinking about it, but I’m also worried about you.” She put her hand on top of his lying on the table. “Aren’t you getting a little too invested in this client?”

            Rob shoved his plate of half-eaten food away. Startled, she pulled back.

            “I’ve never been so pissed about a case in my life,” he said. “This guy, he was just a kid back then, just twenty-two. He risked his life when he didn’t have to, and now everything’s crashing in on him and he’s getting screwed by the system.”

            Worry shot through her. This wasn’t the first time one of Rob’s clients got a raw deal. Was this getting to him because the guy was roughly the age of his own daughters?

            Kate knew this case wasn’t for her. She didn’t have the background in addictions that was needed here. She opened her mouth to gently say no, then closed it again.

            She owed a lot to this man sitting across from her. He’d stood by her through some of the roughest times in her life, and she loved him like a brother. “I’m not an addictions counselor,” she finally said.

            “Pete’s not a typical addict. He’d never even been much of a drinker before 9/11. He used drugs for less than a year. He’s in NA, has a sponsor.” When Kate didn’t respond, he added, “Look, I’ll pay for his sessions. Just give him a chance, please.”

            Kate managed not to glare at him. “You know damn well it isn’t about the money.” Thanks to her late first husband’s foresight, a sizeable life insurance payout gave her the luxury of taking
pro bono
psychotherapy cases when she felt she could help. But in this case...

            She softened her tone. “I’m just not sure I’m the best therapist for him.”

            “You’re a damn sight better than no therapist.”

            Kate held up her hands, palms out. “Okay, I’ll meet with him one time, just to see... well, we’ll see, that’s all. I’m not making any promises. I think I have an opening Friday at one. I’ll call you when I get back to my office to confirm that. Can you see if he can come in then?”

            “I’ll make sure he’s there.”

            Kate shook her head. “Rob, you really need to take a step back from this–”

            A wiry, scruffy-looking man suddenly dropped onto the bench next to Kate.

            “Hey, Rob. How ya doin’, sweet pea?”

            Kate grinned at the man. In only a short time in the kitchen, he’d managed to splash grease and a few other questionable substances on his faded Army T-shirt and jeans. “I’m good, Mac. How’ve you been?”

            “Not bad.”

            “How’s married life treating you?” Rob asked, looking immensely relieved by the interruption.

            Kate suppressed another grin as a pink tide crept up Mac’s tanned, leathery cheeks. After two divorces, he’d taken his sweet time deciding to tie the knot again.

            She slugged his shoulder. “You’re blushing, you old goat.”

            “If I’d knowed you all were gonna abuse me,” Mac grumbled. “I wouldn’t have come over.”

            There was not the slightest glimmer of apology in Rob’s expression. Kate was struggling not to laugh out loud. They both let the silence stretch out.

            “What the hell am I s’posed to say,” Mac growled at them. “It’s good, okay?”

            “What’s good?” Rose asked, appearing next to the booth. With her hair pulled back in a silky black knot and her crisply-ironed shirt and khaki slacks, she presented a sharp contrast to her husband’s unkempt appearance.

            Mac stood up, his cheeks now downright red. “Ya ready?” Without waiting for an answer, he took Rose’s arm and turned her around.

            Rose cocked an eyebrow at Kate over her shoulder, but she let her husband hustle her away from their now-grinning friends.

            Kate and Rob managed to restrain themselves until the couple was seated out of earshot. When they had their muffled laughter under control, Kate said, “I’d love to be able to eavesdrop on their conversation about now.”

            “Do you think they’re happy?” Rob asked, his grin fading.

            Kate narrowed her eyes at him. He was in the strangest mood today. “Yes, I do. They’re as unlikely a pair as one could imagine on the surface, but I think they’re well matched.”

            Rob nodded. “I suspect Rose is the only woman who could handle Mac Reilly.”

            “And vice versa.”

~~~~~~~~

            One of the things Kate assessed during intake interviews was how she felt about the person. She’d discovered the hard way that if she didn’t like the client, she probably wouldn’t do good work with them. In Pete Jamison’s case, she didn’t think that would be a problem.

            He was reserved and rather earnest. He answered her questions about his own and his family history without hesitation, but with minimal elaboration.

            As she listened to the content of his answers, she observed the nonverbals as well. One of the hardest parts of doing psychotherapy was the mental multitasking required, especially in an intake interview.

            He was clean and neat, his gray eyes clear and his sandy hair combed, although it could use a trim. On the tall side, he was slender but broad-shouldered. His clothes hung loose on him, as if he’d lost weight recently. Not too surprising. Both drugs and the PTSD had no doubt played havoc with his appetite.

            When they got to the subject of the symptoms he’d been experiencing since September 11, 2011, he was more forthcoming, which surprised her a little. He even talked, although hesitantly, about his feelings. His previous experience with counseling had apparently trained him well, and his lack of resistance boded well for his motivation level.

            Without prompting, he segued into his drug abuse. At first he’d taken pills to help him sleep, although that strategy hadn’t always worked. He’d smoked marijuana to ease the anxiety and ward off the images that haunted his days, again with only intermittent success. Then he’d started using uppers during the days he worked, to counter the sedative effects of the other drugs.

            “Did you realize what you were getting into?” Kate asked.

            “Yeah, on some level. But at the time I don’t think I cared. I hit bottom a month after I was suspended. I went on a total binge. Pills, alcohol, whatever I could get my hands on. A cop, a buddy of mine, picked me up off the street, literally. I’d passed out on the sidewalk in front of some swank restaurant. Butch had me by the front of my jacket, hauling me to his squad car. When I opened my eyes, I saw the dawning recognition in his.”

            Pete dropped his gaze to his lap. “I wanted to die. Butch just said, ‘Aw, shit, man. How’d you end up like this?’ Instead of arresting me, he took me to an AA meeting. I had no idea he was a recovering alcoholic.”

            Kate let the silence hang for a moment as she made her decision. Everything she’d seen confirmed Rob’s view that Pete was more a PTSD sufferer who’d used drugs for awhile than a drug addict who happened to have PTSD. On top of that, she liked the guy and felt bad for him.

            She leaned forward. “I’m not an addictions counselor, Pete. Normally I require a bare minimum of a year clean and sober before I’ll work with someone.”

            “I’m not quite there. I’‘ll be celebrating my eighth month at my home NA meeting next week.”

            “I’m going to take a chance on you, but staying clean is a requirement for continuing with me. Are you okay with that?”

            Pete nodded without hesitation, then shyly dropped his gaze again.

            Kate debated for another moment. A somewhat unorthodox treatment plan had been forming in the back of her mind while they’d been talking. Normally first sessions were limited to getting to know clients and beginning to develop a treatment plan.

            But her gut was telling her she needed to move faster here. This young man might still be on solid ground, but his toes were dangerously close to a crumbling cliff. He needed to know his life was turning around as of today.

            “Rob found out what happened to the little girl. Did he tell you?”

            Pete’s head jerked up. His eyes clouded over with pain. “Yeah, she died. I’d already suspected that. She was so limp...” He looked off to the side. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

            “She died from smoke inhalation,” Kate said. “Long before the building came down.”

            “That’s what Rob said. I... I didn’t get her out fast enough.”

            “Pete, you were running out of a collapsing building. Do you really think you could’ve moved any faster?”

            He gave her a startled look. After a second, he actually let out a soft chuckle. “I guess not. Running for your life is pretty much as fast as it gets.”

            “The autopsy said she didn’t bleed from the wounds from the building collapsing. That means her heart had already stopped at least several minutes before. She couldn’t have been revived even if you’d gotten her out before the building came down.” Kate paused. “Rob talked to her next of kin. Her uncle wants to meet you. Rob asked me whether that would be a good idea for you, recovery-wise.”

            Pete’s now red-rimmed eyes widened. “Why does this guy want to meet me?”

            “Rob said he wants to thank you.”

            “What the hell for?”

            “I think I’ll let him explain that. Are you game?” Kate prayed she wasn’t pushing him too fast.

            Pete shook his head in confusion. “Game for what?”

            “He lives in Pennsylvania. If you don’t have anything planned for next weekend, I think it would be good for us to go up there.”

            “Us?”

            “It’s called
in vivo
therapy. The therapist goes with you into the real life situation you need to face in order to heal.” This really wasn’t typical
in vivo
therapy, but one of the perks of private practice was that you could get creative, without anyone questioning why you were deviating from more orthodox treatment approaches.

            She sat quietly, letting him digest and decide.

            “Okay,” he finally said, a little hesitantly.

            “I’ll set it up and call you with the details.” She rose to escort him to the door. Once there, she laid her hand gently on his arm. “Pete, it’s going to start getting better as of next weekend.”

            He met her gaze and smiled for the first time since he’d arrived. It was a quick, shy smile but she got a glimpse of the more carefree young man he had been pre-9/11.

            Once he’d left, Kate paused to wonder if
she
was now getting too invested in this case. She shook her head. Probably. She owed Rob an apology.

CHAPTER TWO

            Kate was helping Maria set the table for dinner. The front door banged open. Footsteps pounded through the living room and around the corner into the kitchen. “Mommy, guess what?” her seven-year-old exclaimed. “Fiddlesticks is for sale, and Daddy said maybe we could buy him!”

            “I said no such thing, Edie,” Skip Canfield corrected as he came around the corner after her. “And what are you doing running through the house in your riding boots?”

            The little girl dropped to the kitchen floor and started yanking the muddy boots off. “Can we, Mommy, can we buy Fiddlesticks? You said I could have a horse when I was seven and I’ve been seven for almost two whole months now!”

            Amused at her daughter’s convenient memory, Kate stifled a snicker. When she’d managed to mold her smile into a more stern expression, she turned around. “We said we’d
consider
getting you a horse when you were seven, and so we will. Your father and I will discuss it and get back to you. Now go wash up. Dinner’s ready. And put those stinky boots in the laundry room.”

            Once they were settled around the table, including Maria whom Kate considered part of the family, they closed their eyes and five-year-old Billy began to stumble through the blessing. Kate opened one eye and looked at her children as she silently added her own nightly prayer of thanksgiving. She’d had fertility problems and it was a true miracle that these two little beings even existed.