The Inheritance, page 29
Twenty-Six
After tossing and turning for the last two nights, Phyla had taken to swimming herself into exhaustion, hoping she could fall asleep when her head hit the pillow. She’d considered taking some of the Xanax her doctor had prescribed for her after the shock of finding her husband, the same husband she’d planned to spend the rest of her life with, fucking his future wife.
She had no compunction about taking sleeping aids, but she decided to stay awake and alert in case Ash tried to get in touch. She swam for a full hour and then returned to her bed, physically worn out but, unfortunately, still mentally charged. Phyla regretted having no one she could turn to. Everyone in the world seemed to have at least one friend who was there for them, except her.
The conversation with Darby popped into her mind, and she sat up, blinking at the realization that she did have someone whom she could not only talk to but someone who would understand her growing anxiety and fears about Ash. She turned on the light and pushed the button that connected her directly to Neville’s phone. “Pick me up in fifteen minutes.” Not waiting for a response, she picked out as casual an outfit as she could find. Never mind that it was a pair of Valentino Garavani slim-fit pants with a matching iris brocade pea coat.
Neville was waiting for her in the driveway. His clothes were impeccable, as always, but his hair was just a bit mussed, and he couldn’t quite hide his sleepy eyes as he held open the door. Knowing that if Ash were there she would thank him for coming on such short notice, Phyla tossed out a peremptory “Thank you” when she slid into the seat. If she missed his shocked expression or the brief pause before he shut the door, that was neither here nor there.
When he sat in the driver’s seat, waiting for her to tell him their destination, Phyla glared into the rearview mirror to see his reaction. “Code One.” She was surprised when he gave a nearly imperceptible nod of approval as though he’d been aware of the brooding she’d been doing alone in her home. Was she really that obvious? Did the entire world know about her feelings for Ash? She closed her eyes and shook her head, realizing how ridiculous that thought was. Of course, her driver, the one who, other than Ash and Daphne, consistently spent the most time with her, would notice things.
The line outside the door was full of people waiting to get into the club, but no one complained when the elegant woman strode past and stood by the door, fully expecting the guard to open it for her.
The door guard was different from the one Phyla had met before, and she stood, turned her back on the women in line, and said quietly. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask whether you know what type of club you’re entering.”
Ignoring the question, Phyla pinned the woman with an imperious glare. “I’m here to see Darby.”
The woman considered her for only a moment before opening the door. Phyla surprised her by walking right in and continuing into the bar without waiting to be checked in. “Hey, wait. I need to—” Her voice trailed off when Phyla ignored her. The guard hurried to beat her into the main part of the bar, hoping to get to Darby to explain how this woman had gotten past her.
Darby was at the bar, and Sheila ran up and blurted out, “She just bowled past me. I couldn’t stop her. I’ll—” she looked back at Phyla and then shot a worried glance at Darby, “…kick her out? If…you want me to?”
A grin spread across Darby’s face. “No, that’s okay. She’s my guest.” She winked at Phyla, “Hold on, I’ll get someone to work the bar.” When she returned, she ushered Phyla to her booth and pointed at the curtain. “It’ll give us some privacy if you prefer.”
Phyla’s eyes were drawn to a threesome going at it with lusty abandon on the other side of the room. She blushed and focused on Darby. “Perhaps that would be best. I’m not used to—” She indicated the entire room with an elegant wave of her hand.
“No problem.” Darby pushed a button, and the privacy curtain slid around them. “It can be a bit overwhelming at first.” She paused and asked, “Do you have some news about Ash?”
“No. I just…couldn’t sleep, and I guess I needed a friend.”
Darby’s hand was warm as she covered Phyla’s forearm. “I’m glad you came, then. I’ve been worried, too. And, to be honest, I’ve been planning to take a run down to Louisiana if she’s not back in the next couple of days.”
“I never did ask what’s in Louisiana.”
Darby held up a finger. “Just a sec.” She disappeared for a while and then returned carrying two tumblers. “You look like a bourbon person to me.”
“Thank you.” Phyla took the glass and waited for Darby to speak.
“Louisiana. Let’s see. I’m not sure where to begin. I know this part is something Ash talks about, so I don’t think she’d mind me telling you. The first two times she returned from Iraq, she was a little shaky but fine. Unfortunately, she was such an outstanding K9 handler and trainer that they made her go back a third time, but into Afghanistan this time. Right before she was due to be shipped home and discharged, the Taliban blew up a girl’s school.”
Phyla closed her eyes and shook her head. “Something like that would destroy most people.”
“It did. She and her K9 were sent in to make sure there were no secondary bombs, but seeing those little bodies and…” she hesitated, “tiny body parts broke her. I think even the army realized she’d had enough because they shipped her home and then quickly discharged her. She took off, and, for some reason, I knew I had to find her. We have a kind of connection. I can’t explain it, but I knew I needed to find her.”
“But you don’t feel that this time?”
“I’m worried but not frantic like I was. Back then, I arranged for Doc to meet us if and when I found her, and then, for three weeks, I searched. I talked to old army buddies, and one man said that Ash and another soldier who’d died always talked about that soldier’s shack in the middle of a Louisiana swamp. He told me where to look, and that’s where I found her. I brought her back, and Doc took over from there.”
Phyla took a sip and then slowly spun the tumbler between her hands. “Doctor Harrington is quite a formidable woman.”
“She is. Whenever I spoke to Ash during her third deployment, I could tell she was nearing the breaking point. I’d begun asking around, trying to find someone who specialized in PTSD, and thankfully, one of the people who used to come to the club was a patient of hers. As soon as I met her, I knew Doc would be the perfect fit for Ash. The rest is history.”
An uncharacteristic blush rose on Phyla’s cheeks. “She’s fortunate to have a friend like you.”
Darby cocked her head. “You have that wrong, Phyla. I’m the luckiest person in the world to have Ash in my life. And you probably don’t fully realize it, but you are, too. If she decides to become someone’s friend, she’ll do whatever it takes to protect them.” She touched Phyla’s arm again and looked directly into her eyes. “I can tell that, despite the short amount of time you two have known each other, she’s added you to her list of people she’d do anything for. And because of that, you have the power to hurt her, and honestly, if I were to judge you by your reputation, I’d be very worried. But if I’m good at anything, it’s reading between the lines. I think, maybe, getting to where you are, you know, climbing the corporate ladder and all, has taken its toll.”
“To be honest, Darby, when Ash first arrived in Allegra’s office and said she didn’t want anything to do with her inheritance, I thought she was crazy. Now, I can’t help wishing Allegra had never found her. This might sound strange, but even living on the streets with Barney, she was richer than I’ll ever be.”
Darby smiled, “Could be that you two are in each other’s lives for a reason. You needed a friend, and you’ll never find one more loyal than Ash. And you’re probably the only person in the world who can help her navigate the perils of accepting her inheritance. The trick, though, with Ash, is to know when to pull back and let her get her balance again. When she comes back, I hope you remember that.”
A woman poked her head around the curtain, “Hey, boss. I need to get going. Can you come back to the bar so I can get home to my wife? She hates it when I’m late.”
“Sure.” Both Darby and Phyla stood. Darby opened the curtain and put her hand on Phyla’s back. “You don’t need to leave. Sit and enjoy the music.”
Phyla glanced around the room. “No. Maybe someday with Ash, but not right now.” With worry still uppermost in her mind, Phyla nodded at Darby and returned to where Neville waited near the car. He opened the door, and when she climbed in, she quietly said, “Take me home.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He closed the door, climbed in behind the wheel, and returned her to what had begun to feel like the loneliest place on earth.
Twenty-Seven
Doc glanced over her shoulder at the cell phone ringing on her desk. She was in the middle of a counseling appointment, but when the caller ID showed as unknown, her gut instinct made her say, “Excuse me, Sarah. This might be an emergency.”
“Of course. Go ahead.”
Doc hit send. “Hello?” No one spoke, and after a few seconds without a response, she repeated herself. “Hello?” The line was silent, and she checked to make sure she still had a connection. The display showed someone was still on the line, so she took a chance and softly said, “Ash?”
The other person pulled in a shaky breath, and Doc knew she needed to make some kind of contact. “I’m here, Child. We’re here together, and we can sit quietly for as long as you need.”
Sarah stood, motioned to the door, and whispered, “I’ll see you next week.”
Relieved that it had been a fellow counselor who’d come in for a session, Doc nodded and gave her a thumbs up. She’d been the last patient of the day, so with her phone still to her ear, she followed Sarah out and locked the door after her. She’d told Ash they didn’t have to talk, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use other means to communicate.
She went to her computer, opened the YouTube page, and typed in Stand By Me by Tracy Chapman. Making sure the volume was turned low, she lowered herself into her chair and pressed play. This had been Ash’s recovery song. Doc always had her PTSD patients choose a recovery song that would play quietly in the background during their sessions. The music became an anchor, a place their mind could go when life became overwhelming.
The song played through five times before Doc heard what she’d been straining to hear. A barely audible word made her breath catch.
“Doc?”
Doc deliberately slowed her answer, speaking quietly so as not to alarm Ash. “I’m here, Child. I told you I’m not going anywhere.”
The song played through twice more before Ash spoke again. “Where am I?”
“What happened, Ash? Can you tell me?”
“The doctor…she said Barney…they killed him, I killed him. I wasn’t there, and then the doctor said…, and I opened my eyes and—”
The wheezing when Ash struggled to pull in a breath told Doc she was overwrought and most likely terrified. “You opened your eyes, and no one was there to see you.” Doc thought for a while before saying something that might cause Ash to disconnect. “I hear you, though, Ash. I hear you, and we’re together now, okay? Do you want me to talk so you can hear me?”
“I hear the song. Why aren’t you here, Doc? I don’t know where I am.”
“I’m here with you now, Ash. I’m on the phone, and I won’t leave you. Do you think you can describe what you’re seeing?”
“I’m in a house, and there’s nobody here.”
“You’re in a house?” That was not good. “How did you get in the house?”
Ash was quiet, and Doc waited patiently for her to remember what had happened. “I opened my eyes, and I was in a forest. I walked until I saw a house and a phone.”
“How did you get in the house, Ash?”
“I don’t know, Doc. I’m scared, and Barney’s dead.”
Definitely not good. “Do me a favor. Look around for something that might have an address on it. A piece of mail, maybe.”
“Okay. There’s a pile of mail on the table by the door.”
“What’s the address?” After Ash read off the rural route, city, and state, Doc remained silent, trying to figure out her options. “Listen to the song for a while, okay?” She quickly opened the messaging app on her computer and pulled up Phyla McGuire’s number. She typed in, This is Doctor Harrington. Can you provide a helicopter to take me to Asheville, North Carolina, right now?
The response was immediate. Meet M building 1 hour. Heliport on roof.
Doc sent a thumbs-up emoji and then returned her attention to her phone. “You still with me, Ash?”
“Yeah.”
“Are there other houses close by?”
“No.”
“I’m coming for you. Do you trust me?”
“Yeah.”
“Go outside and wait. Will you be okay with the sound of a helicopter?” Doc didn’t want to accidentally trigger memories of Iraq, so when Ash didn’t respond, Doc said, “There won’t be a helicopter, Ash, don’t worry. Watch for me. I’ll be in a car.” She returned to the computer and typed, Will need car when I land.
Already being arranged.
“Ash? Is Diva with you?”
“Yeah. I stole a can of dog food for her.”
“Good. Go outside and wait close by. I’m coming.” When Doc didn’t hear a response, she checked her phone. Ash was gone. Only then did it dawn on her that she’d never flown in a helicopter before and had intended to make that a permanent lifetime reality. She was a white-knuckled flyer even when surrounded by a huge fuselage where she couldn’t look outside.
But even though psychologists weren’t supposed to care for their patients outside of the counseling session, Ash had crept into her heart, and she knew a helicopter ride was in her immediate future.
The messaging app dinged again. What’s going on?
The need to have Phyla’s help had put Doc in a sticky situation. She couldn’t admit Ash was her patient, even though Phyla obviously knew she was. She thought about how best to answer. Ms. McGuire. Please don’t ask questions.
Is she okay?
So much for telling a powerful woman like Phyla McGuire what to do. I can’t answer that.
Fuck your… The ellipses blinked at the bottom of the screen for several long moments, and Doc hoped it was because Phyla was getting her shit together. Sorry. I understand. Will have security bring you up to heliport.
Doc grabbed her coat and headed out to her car.
A guard met her at the entrance to the parking garage of the M building and instructed her to park in a reserved space right next to an elevator. He slid a card over a controller and then rode up with her to the rooftop. Again, another first she could have lived her whole life without experiencing.
Phyla was waiting for them inside a glassed-in waiting area. “My pilots need to know where we’re going so they can file a flight plan.”
Doc shook her head. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“You’re going to get Ash, and there’s no question I’m going with you.” The security guard had taken up a post next to the elevator doors. Phyla glanced at him. “You can leave.”
The doors slid open the instant he waved his card in front of the reader. Once he’d stepped inside, Phyla and Doc watched until the doors shut, and he was on his way down.
Doc rarely showed anger, and she didn’t now. She understood Phyla’s personality type and had counseled many, many high-level business executives during her career. The business mogul dealt with facts and figures, so Doc gave them to her. “When a person with PTSD has a severe reaction, they often look to a neutral third party for help because they’re disoriented, frightened, and in certain cases,” she caught and held Phyla’s gaze to emphasize she was talking specifically about Ash now without actually saying her name, “gut-wrenchingly, viscerally ashamed. Until they get their bearings—get their feet under them again—if someone they care about, perhaps deeply care about, sees them when they are at their most unstable, it will affect their relationship negatively. I’m telling you, Ms. McGuire, as a friend, that I am going alone, and you need to wait here and be patient.”
There was that damn word again. Patient. Phyla had never been a patient person, but directly and peripherally, Ash was forcing her to come to terms with the concept. “Fine. I’m sure she hates me anyway for moving them to that damn patio.” Guilt washed over her for the hundredth time that day. “I should have just left well enough alone, so it really doesn’t matter anyway. I know she won’t want to stay on that patio anymore. Where will you take her? Just so you know, she’s welcome to stay in my apartment here.”
Doc smiled and shook her head. “What floor is your apartment on?”
“The….” Phyla stopped and covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m not thinking straight, am I? The seventy-third floor of a skyscraper is the last place she’d feel comfortable. My home? But that has the same issues as me coming with you to get her.” She wracked her brains, trying to come up with a place. “Wait. I have a small loft apartment in my stables. There aren’t any horses there at the moment, and the stables are a good distance from the mansion. I can see them from my window, but it’s not what I’d call close.”
“How many bedrooms?”
“Three.”
“Bathroom?”
“One.”
“Is there a place for the helicopter to land?”
“Yes, there’s a landing pad on the property. I can have the lights on in the apartment if you arrive after dark.”
