Page 3 of In Death, Love Survives

Despite his emotions on his worst day, you usually can’t tell if he’s had a bad night or a long day. He’s always so upbeat, and his dynamic personality is contagious.

He’s an attractive man—even I can admit that—at over six feet tall with styled blond hair that never looks out of place. That, combined with his usual polished suits that cover his fit physique, makes it hard for most of his nurses or other staff to look away.

As much as I can appreciate his looks, it’s his mind that has me enraptured. Although, I think he values that everything between us is platonic. In our environment, it makes working together side by side that much easier.

“Everything okay?” I ask as I pause in the hallway.

“Just a lot going on.” He sighs loudly this time as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Gently, I touch his forearm.

“If you need to talk, you know I’m here for you.”

He smiles warmly as he puts his arm back down.

“Professional duty?” he asks teasingly.

“Friend or professional. Either way,” I offer.

“Thanks, Nova. Maybe we can go out for a drink after work on Friday. I can spill all my sorrows,” he says, trying to ease any awkwardness.

“If you’d like.”

Ryan stares intensely this time.

“I would like that. Thank you,” he rasps.

He runs a hand through his hair as a sheepish expression takes over. Somehow, he manages to collect himself, and I’m really not sure what’s running through his head. I hope everything is okay for my friend.

“Let’s go meet the newest residents of Roper State, shall we?” I ask.

“After you.”

Ryan and I are seated behind a two-way mirror, watching as the new prisoners are being led into the final intake room before they can enter their new prison block. They’ve changed into their jumpsuits, been processed, and are waiting to be seen by one of Ryan’s medical assistants.

Ryan may have a different reason for getting to know who’s coming into this prison than I do, but I take my time ahead of each prisoner transfer, trying to understand them.

Soon enough, I won’t be able to dedicate this amount of time to each of the prisoners. There’s just far too much happening, which is why I like to get a first impression of them here.

“What do you think about him?” Ryan asks.

I scan the prisoner and locate his identification number. As I flip through my files, I easily find the person in question.

“I think he may need my help.”

“But he hasn’t listed any mental health concerns, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“Did you go through all the new prisoner files?”

“I did. Of course I focused on the thirteen who listed needing help first.”

“Good, but this one?”

“The pattern of break-ins and related crimes on his record indicates that maybe he’s been overlooked.”

“I think a one-on-one session with you may be worth a try then.”

“Me too. I’ll make a note of your agreement to that. Thank you.”

Scribbling the note down on the file, I close it back up and continue to watch the final processing.

“Almost time for us to head on back,” I say.

“Almost. There’s one prisoner in particular I’m hoping to see before we leave.”

“Isn’t he the last one?”

“No. Time to see the star of the show.”

My eyebrows furrow together as I think back to the transfer list we received.

“Star of the show?” I ask, confused.

“I bet this is him coming,” Ryan whispers.

I glance around the room to see other staff members also with us. Ryan most likely doesn’t want them to know this upcoming prisoner has his attention.

“What makes this one stand out?”

“You’ll see.”

The door to the room we’re watching slowly opens, and in steps a man unlike anyone I’ve ever laid eyes on before.

My mouth parts and eyes widen as I drink in his undeniable presence. This man is broad, with thick muscles pulsing through his jumpsuit. The way his tan skin complements his shaggy, brown hair makes heat start to stir below my stomach.

I swallow thickly, as the feelings I’m getting are entirely inappropriate, making my cheeks start to flame in embarrassment.

I’m a professional.

A doctor.

I can’t let this man with striking green eyes and a chiseled jaw impact me like this. It’s been far too long since anything resembling desire has bubbled within.

Desire. That’s exactly what I feel as this man easily saunters into the room and waits for instruction.

He turns his head toward the mirror and stares. Almost as if he knows I’m on the other side of it, his eyes snap right to mine. It’s impossible for him to know that it’s me watching through it.

I know this, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like they are piercing right through my very being. The swirling of the deep green mixed with a hint of honey has me transfixed.

I try to snap out of it, but it feels impossible.

Remember, Nova .

He knows that staff members are on the other side of this two-way mirror. It’s no surprise to him that people are watching. He’s trying to show he’s not scared of what’s to come. That’s it. It’s not me.

“Arrogant. Just like I thought he’d be,” Ryan says.

It finally breaks my trance.

“Who is he exactly, and why wasn’t he on the list?”

Facing Ryan, I gulp as I wait for his answer. The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement.

“You don’t recognize him?”

“No, I don’t. Should I?” I try to wrack my brain but come up with nothing.

“I suppose not. However, to some, he is a legend. Maybe notorious is a better word to describe him in our circles.”

“Why is that?”

Ryan clears his throat and adjusts his tie. As he settles back to his prior position, he cocks his head to the side.

“This is Wolfe Walker.”

“Wolfe Walker…”

“They couldn’t let everyone know he was coming to our maximum security prison.”

That’s when it hits me. Wolfe Walker. I have seen his name in the news. He just had a major trial and was sentenced to a prison term. I hadn’t put two and two together that he might end up here.

“Why couldn’t the staff know he was coming? That doesn’t make sense.”

“You mustn’t know the full extent of his history.”

“I suppose not, but he’s still a prisoner. We have protocols for a reason.”

“We do, but I suppose when you look at a legend like Wolfe,” he starts.

“A criminal is not a legend,” I retort.

Ryan groans.

“Come on. Let’s get back there. You’ll get to meet him in person soon enough.”

“Does he need my care?”

“That’s for you to determine. Either way, he’ll be seeing you today so you can.”

We both stand up and start to make our way out of the silent observation room. As I glance around at my colleagues, I see that all of them are looking at Mr. Walker with wide eyes in disbelief, like I was moments ago.

Ryan and I start the walk back to our medical unit. Even though he’s made it clear I’ll be seeing Mr. Walker today, it bugs me that I didn’t know ahead of time, especially if he is so infamous.

“Who did Crawley tell?” I ask.

Ryan glances over at me before focusing on the walk ahead again.

“I knew. A couple of others. It was need to know.”

“And I didn’t need to know? I needed to know about Wolfe in advance, just like any other new prisoner who needs psychiatric care.”

Ryan opens a door, and I step through it first as we finish our journey.

“I get it… I do. I simply couldn’t tell you.”

I let out a loud sigh.

“I understand, but it’s just frustrating that Crawley did this. He’s so secretive sometimes, and it’s frustrating.”

Ryan strokes the upper part of my arm.

“The asshole frustrates me all the time too.” He smirks as he pulls away.

“On the upside, you don’t want a patient who is extra interesting for once?”

“Every patient is interesting,” I counter.

“It’s the Wolfe Walker.”

“He’s a prisoner,” I stress.

Ryan raises his hands playfully in defeat.

“I get it.”

“Thank you.” I shyly smile.

“You aren’t mad at me?”

“Mad? No, of course not.”

“Good. I’d hate that. You and I are a team here.”

Some team.

“I’ll bring you his file later today.”

“Thank you, but next time, I would appreciate the heads-up.”

Ryan pauses in front of my office as I swing the door open.

“You know I couldn’t.”

My shoulders sink as I briefly shut my eyes.

“I need time to evaluate patients. I have a process.”

Ryan grips my shoulders tightly, and my eyes pop open.

“You’re the best at what you do. Far too good to be here at Roper State. You will be able to evaluate him with as much time as you need. That is in my control, not Crawley’s.”

My watch alarm rings, indicating it’s time for me to start the evaluations of the thirteen prisoners with known mental health histories.

“I hope so.”

As I settle into my dedicated chair, the first prisoner comes into the patient room I typically use. He’s an older, weathered-looking man with a tired look on his face.

“Mr. Quail, I’m Dr. Fletcher. Please have a seat,” I say, gesturing at the open seat.

Correctional Officer Walls steps back, allowing the prisoner to take his seat.

“Walls, please leave the room.”

“Dr. Fletcher, Dr. Owens has said—” Walls starts.

I hold up a hand to stop him from going on this rant again.

“Officer Walls, this is a private session, as are all my sessions. If Dr. Owens has a problem with it, he can talk to me about it, like he does with every other situation.”

Walls gives me a curt nod before leaving the room. I know he’ll remain stationed outside it just in case of an emergency.

In some ways, Officer Walls is a friend of mine. Not fully, but I know he cares about my well-being. That, coupled with Ryan’s warning to watch over me, makes him sometimes feel like a personal officer instead.

If there was a patient I didn’t feel safe around, as there always will be, I would have Tim work with that person or ask for CO support directly.

Focusing my attention back to the current patient in my room, Mr. Quail, I give him a small smile as I adjust in my chair.

“My apologies, Mr. Quail.”

The man looks surprised by the altercation.

“As I’m sure you understand, given the nature of this session, it will be recorded and kept in safekeeping. A medical staff team member or I will be the ones with access to these records. They are all for the benefit of your treatment. Do I have your consent to record?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then let’s get started.”

I flip through his file with my notes attached.

“Can you please share your history with depression?” I ask.

“Isn’t it all there?”

“It is, but I’d like to hear it from you directly.”

“Oh, well, okay then,” he stammers.

Mr. Rod Quail, seventy-three years old, is a felon who has been in and out of the justice system his entire life. His latest armed robbery conviction is what brought him here to Roper State.

I shut his file and patiently listen to him share his backstory—it’s just one of the many I plan to hear today.

One by one, each of the thirteen prisoners comes into my office, and I follow the same routine. Each of them is shocked that I’m listening rather than just going over their prior treatment plans.

Every time I go through this process, it’s just as jarring. It’s one aspect of this job that I’ll never get used to. All the patients I see are surprised that I’m treating them in this manner. That I want to help.

“Knock, knock,” Ryan says as he leans against the doorframe. He’s holding onto a file in the air, and I assume it’s Wolfe Walker’s file.

He’s the last one I need to see today.

“Walker’s file?” I ask.

“Yep,” he answers with a pop of the p.

Ryan gives it a small shake before bringing it down toward his waist as he approaches my desk. I stay seated since, frankly, I’m still a little annoyed by what’s happened.

Throughout the day, I’ve had time to really think about the situation with Wolfe Walker and how Ryan didn’t tell me. I understand there are some aspects to his role I’m not privy to, but he shouldn’t give me the whole “we’re a team” speech when he doesn’t mean it.

“Thank you,” I say as I try to take it.

Ryan pulls it away slightly, keeping it out of my reach.

“Nova, are you actually upset with me?”

I give him a twisted expression.

“Dr. Owens, I am not upset with you, but how is it that I’m expected to do my job if I don’t have adequate knowledge of my patients or time to prepare?”

Ryan keeps the file out of reach as he thinks about what I’m really asking. I don’t think he actually processed what I was saying earlier today.

“I won’t let it happen again,” he answers after some time.

I can see the honesty ringing through, so I’ll accept it and move forward. It’s something to keep in mind for the future, but I don’t want to continue discussing this matter. Not when I need to focus on Mr. Walker coming in shortly.

I know Ryan likes to see us as being closer than we are. I view us as work friends and like we have some distance between us. I need that professional boundary to stay in place.

“Thank you.”

Ryan hands me the folder. Immediately, I start to flip through it.

“Have you seen him yet?” I ask.

“I did. Earlier this afternoon. He’s at dinner in the chow hall and then will be brought over.”

“In the middle of his recreation time.”

Not a great precedent to set.

“He’ll be fine.”

Fine.

No one is fine with having their free time taken away from them.

I let out a low sigh as I try to stay focused on the file and not cause another tiff with Ryan.

“He’ll understand. It’s day one.”

I look up from the file and hold onto it tightly. As I square my shoulders back, my jaw tightens.

“Any personal time like that needs to stay his. Otherwise, he won’t open up to the processes in place here.”

“It’s really going to be fine, Nova. You’ll see once you meet him in person.”

“Ryan, you know I like to follow the rules I have in place. They’re here for a reason.”

“You’re right. It’s your care, so it should be your call.”

I give him a tight smile.

“I promise. Another mark I’ll add to the list to remember.”

He’s trying to be charming, so I smile more warmly to get him to back off. This is why I don’t want to be anything more than work friends.