“It’s not just about locks, Walker. It’s about what this represents.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, frustration mixing with the lingering fear. “Someone in this community wants us gone badly enough to violate private medical information. What’s next?”
His eyes softened slightly. “Hank’s been trying to run us off since day one. This is just his latest attempt to find something—anything—he can use against us. Against Boone specifically.”
“And in the process, he violated every ethical standard I’m bound by. Hell, every one he’s supposed to be bound by. Ugh! Why does he keep getting elected?”
“Because nobody has the balls to run against him.”
“You do.”
Walker barked out a laugh. “While I appreciate that you’ve been thinking about my balls, I have no interest in being sheriff.”
Her face flushed with heat, but she didn’t know if it was from anger or the image of Walker naked that suddenly popped into her head. She shook it away. “Then what if Boone?—”
“No. He’s even less interested, and you know that.”
Dammit, she did. Boone was perfectly happy being Walker’s right-hand man here at the ranch and had no interest in town politics.
She ran her fingers along the edge of Boone’s file, thinking of how far he’d come, how much trust it had taken for him to open up in therapy. “What if Hank decides to use something from these sessions against Boone?”
“That’s my biggest concern,” Walker admitted. “Anything he finds could be twisted, used to paint Boone as unstable or dangerous.”
Her stomach clenched at the thought. She’d been scrupulous in her notes, professional and objective, but therapy notes weren’t meant to be read by hostile eyes. Context could be stripped away, vulnerabilities exploited.
“I need to warn him,” she said. “He has a right to know his privacy’s been violated.”
Walker nodded. “I’ll talk to him. You have your session with Jonah.”
She glanced at her watch. Somehow, despite everything, it was still only 9:15. She’d completely forgotten Jonah was scheduled for 9:30.
“I can’t do this now,” she said, gesturing to the mess. “Not like this.”
“I’ll tell him we need to reschedule.”
“No.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “No, I need to see him. This break-in doesn’t change the fact that heneeds help. Just... give me fifteen minutes to clean up the worst of it.”
Walker looked skeptical. “You sure?”
“Positive.” She set her jaw. “I won’t let Hank or his goons disrupt what we’re building here. That’s exactly what they want.”
thirteen
Johanna straightened the last of the patient files in her cabinet, double-checking each one for missing pages. She’d barely managed to restore order to her office before Jonah’s session. The filing cabinet now pressed against the window they’d forced—not a permanent solution, but it would do until Walker installed better locks. She glanced at her watch. Two minutes until Jonah’s appointment. Unlike Boone, who had treated their first sessions like interrogations to be endured, Jonah showed up precisely on time, always prepared with answers to her questions. Too prepared sometimes, like he’d rehearsed what a cooperative patient should say.
Right on cue, a soft knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she called, slipping her notepad onto her lap and smoothing her expression into professional neutrality.
Jonah entered, removing his knit cap as he crossed the threshold. He settled into the chair opposite her, back straight, hands resting on his knees.
“Morning, Dr. Perrin.” His gaze flickered to the displaced furniture, the cabinet blocking part of the window, but he didn’t comment.
“Good morning, Jonah.” She decided to address it directly. “We had a break-in last night. Nothing serious, but if things look a bit off, that’s why.”
He straightened, scanning the room again, slower this time. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, thankfully. Just some files disturbed.” She tapped her pen against her notepad. “How was your week?”
His shoulders dropped half an inch, and his gaze settled somewhere over her shoulder. “Fine, ma’am. No issues to report.”
