Chapter 35 Reeves
THIRTY-FIVE
Reeves
The Tradition: In New Orleans, this is what celebration after loss looks like — not the absence of grief, but grief that chose motion over stillness.
The highway stretches ahead, but I keep seeing her instead of the road.
I think about her damp hair, the blue scrubs hanging loosely on her shoulders, the way she held her coffee with both hands.
I adjust my grip on the wheel and shift in the seat, trying to force my focus forward, but my eyes drift back to the rearview as if she might still be there.
I exhale through my nose and roll my shoulder, the joint catching the way it always does now. I grab the bottle out of my duffel bag sitting in the seat beside me. It occurs to me I didn't take anything since before we went to the tank show yesterday afternoon.
The kitchen table comes back. And then I remember how distressed she was about that email.
An investigation.
My jaw locks. I press my foot down a little harder on the gas, then ease back when the truck in front of me slows.
Charli tracks everything. She always has. Notes stacked, schedules lined up, every detail accounted for. She doesn’t miss things. I'm sure that's how she runs her business.
I drum my fingers once against the wheel, then still them, forcing both hands back into place.
I need to understand what she's dealing with and maybe I can help her. That's all. Information gathering.
I grab my phone from the cup holder and scroll through contacts. Past Wells. Past Ridge. I stop on Gabe's name and hit call.
He answers on the second ring.
"Well, look who's alive. Where the hell have you been?"
"I've been a little tied up."
"You disappear for days, and don't answer texts. I hear that's your MO around here, but you can't do that shit to me."
"Gabe." My tone shifts, cutting through his casual bullshit. "This stays between us."
The change in my voice registers immediately. His tone matches mine.
"Done. What's going on?"
I haven't told my brothers about Charli. About Benjy. I don't know how I'm handling any of this yet, and I sure as hell don't need Ridge's opinions or Wells analyzing everything to death.
"I found out last week I have a kid. A five-year-old son."
"Shut the fuck up. You have a five-year-old?"
"Yep. The girl I was dating before I joined the Navy. She tried to tell me, but I didn't read the letter. Nevermind. The how doesn't matter. What matters is, I just found out and I'm still trying to figure out how to deal with it."
"Damn. Yeah, I'd disappear, too. Shit."
"Yeah. Anyway, listen. I might need some of your hacking skills. Are you still able to do stuff like that?"
"Possibly. Depends on what you're needing."
"Can you find out what kind of flag is out there regarding Medicaid and billing on a specific practice?"
"Probably not. But I might be able to scratch the surface. What details can you give me?"
I hear paper rustling, so I tell him about the email and how it basically just said more to follow. I gave him all the details I have about her practice, location, and her name.
Gabe won't tell my brothers or give me a lecture about this. That's why I called him instead of Wells.
"I'm not sure I can do anything, but I can do some digging and see if I can find anything."
"I know that. I appreciate it."
The relief surprises me. I'm not sure I can do anything at all, but the promise of maybe giving her some relief or answers feels like I'm contributing.
I merge onto the interstate, letting the truck find its rhythm. "You still working with Wells on research stuff?"
"How long for the background check?"
"That won't take long at all. The Medicaid thing might take longer. Those networks move slow."
"Okay."
"You doing all right with all this? Finding out about your son, I mean."
The question catches me off guard. Not because he asked. But because I don't have an answer ready.
"Ask me next week."
Gabe lets out a low chuckle. "Fair enough. Listen, you got time for a beer before you head back out? Could meet you at The Orchid later if you're up for it."
Before you head back out.
Three days ago, heading back out was all I could think about. Pack up. Report for duty. Let the machine of military routine carry me forward and put all of the noise out of my head.
Now the thought of deployment has me all fucked up.
"Yeah. I can do that."
The words come out easily. But even as I'm saying them, my mind stays locked on Charli and Benjy. I only have a few days and I want to spend every minute of it with them I can.
They come first.
"How's that shoulder been treating you?"
I roll my shoulder once, testing the joint. The pain flares immediately. The pills keep it at bay, but the ache never fully goes away anymore.
"Better. The rest has helped."
The lie slides out smoothly. Practiced. I've been telling doctors and commanding officers the same thing for months, but the scans don't lie.
"Good to hear. I'm glad to know it's doing better. Maybe all of that with Kaplan will blow over."
"Yeah. Maybe."
"All right. Orchid later?"
"Let me confirm with you. I'm waiting to see what Charli and Benjy have going on in Bay St. Louis."
"Oh, I see how it is. I get it, though. You only have so much time here."
"Thanks, man. I really appreciate all of your help."
The line goes dead. I set the phone back in the cup holder and merge into the right lane as traffic starts to thicken near the city outskirts.
The house is too quiet when I walk through the front door. I drop my keys on the hall table and they clatter louder than they should in the empty space.
"Ms. Landry?"
No answer. She must already be out for the day.
I head upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. In my room, I pull off my shirt and toss it toward the hamper. It misses, but I don't bother picking it up.
My hands move without direction. Opening drawers. Closing them. I grab a pair of shorts and change, then sit on the edge of the bed.
This is ridiculous.
I stand again. Walk to the window. Sit back down.
"Reeves?" Ms. Landry's voice carries up from downstairs.
I stick my head out of the door and see her at the bottom of the stairs. "Good morning, Ms. Landry. Didn't mean to startle you. I called for you when I got home but didn't think you were here."
"No worries. I'm heading out for the day. Grocery shopping, then visiting my sister. Do you need anything before I go?"
"No. I'm fine."
She studies my face for a moment. Whatever she sees there, she keeps to herself.
"There's lunch meat in the refrigerator if you get hungry."
The front door closes behind her.
I change into running gear, snag my AirPods off the dresser, and head back outside. My feet hit the pavement hard from the first step. No warm-up. No easy pace to start.
I hit the pavement hard, pushing for a pace my body can settle into. I believe that false promise, even with Charli's face continuing to flash behind my eyes.
My breathing comes harder than it should this early in the run. I push faster anyway. I can't let myself get out of shape during my leave.
The familiar ache starts in my shoulder, a warning I know by heart. I ignore it and lean into the burn in my legs instead.
The heat builds, my shoulder starts to throb, and I can't get into the run whether I want to or not. I slow to a walk, my chest heaving.
I lean against a mailbox, rolling my shoulder. The pain shoots down to my wrist.
My mind goes back to what Charli said last night. She told me to stretch before I did this. I'll go home and ice it instead of pushing through.
I pull out my phone and turn off the music. Everything is irritating me right now. Without thinking about it, I go to my texts and click on Charli's name, checking her thread first.
I'm not surprised to see she hasn't texted me this morning.
How's your day going? Surviving without me?
I hit send and start walking back to my dad's. By the time I reach the front steps, my phone goes off.
That shitty email is hanging over me like a cloud. Otherwise, it's been good. How's your shoulder?
I stop at the bottom of the steps and read it again, my thumb running along the edge of my phone.
Better after last night's therapy session.
The three dots appear immediately, then disappear. Then appear again.
You haven't seen therapy yet. ;-)
I grin at the screen. I start to ask her if she has any openings today, but then think better of it. Too much, too fast. I settle on something more tame.
Wondering when I can get on your schedule.
I believe you've aged out. I'd be happy to make a referral.
I head inside and grab an ice pack from the freezer. The house stays quiet except for the hum of the air conditioning and the tick of the grandfather clock in the hall.
Ageism.
I lie back on the couch with the ice on my shoulder, set the phone on my thigh, and close my eyes until it buzzes again.
This morning was close.
I know. Sorry about that. But it did make for a funny morning.
It's all fun and games until Benjy catches us. Then we're both cooked.
I stare at the screen. I stare at the screen. She’s opening the door, and I step through it.
I remember how you taste.
The dots start and stop three times.
Reeves.
I remember how you sound when you come.
Stop.
My phone rings. Gabe's name flashes on the screen.
"Goddammit," I yell. Normally, I would decline the call and finish. But I need to know what he found. I answer before the second ring.
"What've you got?"
"Not everything yet, but enough." Gabe's voice carries a different weight now. The casual tone from earlier is gone. "This isn't a random audit."
I press the ice pack harder against my shoulder, waiting.
My phone vibrates against my ear. I pull it away to see her text.
I'm wet for you.
"Fuuuuck…" slips out before I can stop it. All I want is to stay with her, but I need to hear what Gabe has.
"The system flags happen automatically, but this one got pushed forward. Someone made sure it moved up the priority list."
"How can you tell?"
"There's a referral buried in the process. Someone called it in. The automated systems don't work that way. They just sit in the queue until someone gets around to reviewing them."
My jaw tightens. "Any idea who made the referral?"
"That's where I need more time. The trail gets murky after that point. But I'm pretty confident someone wanted this investigation to start."
I stand, the ice pack dropping to the floor. The late morning light streams through the front windows, casting bright stripes across the hardwood.
The line goes quiet for a moment. I can hear Gabe typing in the background.
"I'll call you when I have more."
The phone goes dead.
Charli. You're killing me. I'm so hard for you.
My message delivers but doesn't show "Read." Fuck. I lost her.
Can I see you again tonight? I know it's a lot, but I leave in a few days and I need to see you.
I set it on the windowsill and stare out at the neighborhood. Everything looks normal. Kids riding bikes. A woman walking her dog.
But someone decided to go after Charli. Someone made a deliberate choice to disrupt her life.
My hands curl into fists at my sides.
I want to tell her what Gabe found. That someone made this happen. Maybe she would have an idea of who would do this and why.
But throwing that at her right now would only create more stress. She needs facts, not theories. And I need more information before I can give her anything useful.
I pick up the ice and throw it in the sink and head up for a shower.