_______________________________

 

            Troya didn't allow her brother to get past hello before rapidly giving the reason behind her phone call.  Tad paused in long thought before suggesting he meet her at his estate, rather than at his office.

 

            "Family business is best discussed in private," he said softly, leading Troya to believe he had taken her call in a conference room full of people.  "Let me wrap up a few things here.  Can you meet me at my place in an hour?"

 

            "That'll work," Troya agreed from the phone in A.J.'s room.  "I've got a few things to take care of as well."

 

            "Okay, see you then."

            "Tad?"  Troya's beckoning held a tremor of uncertainty.

 

            "Yeah, sis?"

            "I...do you think Dad's done something wrong?"

            Her brother's strong voice offered quiet reassurance.  "I don't know, Troy, but don't worry.  We'll sort this thing out together."

 

            Troya couldn't help but smile a little at his words.  Together they'd solved so many problems and overcome so much adversity throughout the years. This situation couldn't possibly be any worse than any of the others had been, could it?

 

            Distant footsteps were heard coming down the hallway, causing Troya to hang up with a swift goodbye.  As fast as she could she copied what A.J. had written word for word, scribbling so quickly the letters were almost eligible.   She tore the piece of paper she had written on out of the notepad, silently cursing the seemingly loud sound it made as it was ripped away from the small metal spirals.  She threw the pad back in the drawer, while simultaneously shoving the loose sheet into the right pocket of her blazer just as Nurse Finster entered the room.

 

            The woman frowned with disapproval, gazing at Troya over the top of her cat-eye glasses.  "Is there something I can help you with, Doctor?"

            Troya used her body to shield her left hand easing closed the nightstand drawer.  Even to her own ears, Troya's words sounded rushed and agitated.  "No, no.  I was simply looking for A.J."

            "I see."

 

            Troya didn't like the glare the nurse was giving her.  As if she, the chief of staff, had no right to be in this room.  "And you?"

 

            "I was looking for Andrew also."

            Troya spread her arms in a gesture that took in the entire area. "It appears we both struck out then, doesn't it?"

 

            "Yes," the woman replied thoughtfully as Troya brushed past her, "yes, it does."

 

            The nurse watched from the doorway until she saw Doctor Yeager enter the elevator.  She scurried over to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out the suddenly popular fifty-cent notepad.  The sheared strands of paper hanging in the spirals indicated someone had hastily torn out a page.  Dagmar peered closer at the blank sheet of paper before her, and then ran a light finger over it.  She could tell something had recently been written on the page that was missing.  Indentations left behind by the motions of a pen made that easy to see.  She tore the blank page out and held it side by side to the one A.J. had his list recorded on.   It took only a keen eye to be able to discern the detective's list, and what had been recorded on the missing page, were replicas of each other.

 

            The woman wasn't certain what that missing page signified, or what the significance was of the person who took it, but she found the potential ramifications intriguing.  She exited the room, using a finger to beckon the big janitor mopping the hallway floor.  The two entered the vacant nurses' lounge and closed the door.

 

________________________________

 

 

             Vera retrieved the tray of empty drinking glasses and sandwich plates from Tad's desk, then closed the big double doors to his study as she exited.  The room's occupants maintained silent until the woman's footsteps faded from hearing range. 

 

            Troya sat in a chair opposite her brother's wide desk, while Kit perched a hip on one corner.  It never occurred to her to question Tad as to why his friend was present. He'd been included in so many family gatherings over the years that it would have seemed odd had he not been there.  She loved Kit like a brother, and valued his opinion in much the same way she valued Tad's.

 

            Tad Brooks leaned forward in his chair, passing the piece of notebook paper back to his sister.  

 

            When Troya could no longer stand the men's heavy silence she looked from Kit to her twin.   "I don't understand it.  What does any of this mean?"

 

            With his police cruiser parked outside and dressed in his uniform, Kit crossed his arms over his chest.  His wrists came to rest right below the badge that promised he'd protect and serve.  "Read the words to me again.  In the exact order he has them written."

            Though she practically had the words on the paper memorized, Troya glanced down.   "LB, Taylor, shark, Wyatt, Brendan, sunglasses, hat, and...." she looked up as she finished, "Lowell Brooks."

 

            Tad sank into the plush leather of his chair, turning it sideways.  His suit coat hung over the tall back as did his tie, the sleeves of his pale blue dress shirt had been rolled to his elbows.  Between his casual appearance and his striking features, he looked like he was about to pose for the cover of a men's fashion catalog.   He brought his left arm up, resting his chin on his fist.  His pale brows met in thought.   "For starters, we know that Brendan is Rick and A.J.'s cousin's boy, right?"

            Troya nodded.  "Right."

 

            "And I think it's fairly evident what LB represents.  That goes for the word sunglasses, as well, and Lowell Brooks, of course.  The rest of it doesn't mean anything to me.  How about you?"

            "No," Troya said.  "Except I would assume Wyatt and Taylor are names.  Either first names or last names.  Or they could represent the name of one person.  You know, like Wyatt Taylor or Taylor Wyatt."

            "Or they could represent nothing but the incoherent thoughts of a man who had his skull shattered by a pickup truck," Kit interjected. 

 

            Troy gave her head a slow, thoughtful shake.  "I don't believe so."

 

            "Then what do you think it means?"

 

            "That A.J. is piecing together the events that led up to his accident."

            "Oh, come on, Troy," Tad scoffed,  "how can you come to that conclusion based on what's written there?  Personally, I think you're blowing this way out of proportion.  So he's got Dad's name written down on a piece of paper.  Big deal.  Maybe he heard you mention it.  Or Rick mention it.  Or, for all we know, Dad ran into A.J. on the rehab’s grounds at some point in time and introduced himself.  Which, by the way, might explain how he came to have Dad's glasses.  You know how Dad's always leaving them lay around.  It's a wonder he hasn't lost them long before now.  I tend to agree with Kit.   What we're looking at is...while maybe not incoherent thoughts, perhaps nothing more than A.J.'s attempts to master skills that once came easy for him.  For all you know he might write down every new word he hears or encounters."

 

            Troya's "Maybe," was reluctant and noncommittal.  "But I do know this is a technique Rick and A.J. have used when working to solve a case."

 

            Tad pursed his lips. "What do you mean?"

            "Listing clues," Kit said, turning on his hip so he could see both Tad and Troya.  "Listing things that are relevant to a case, generally in the order in which they happened.  We often employ the same technique in police investigations.  While it may seem crude and elementary to some, you'd be surprised at how helpful it can be.  Sometimes seeing the events or high points of a crime written on paper is like having a road map that ultimately leads you to the right destination."

 

            "So you're saying this could mean something?” Tad questioned. “Not a minute ago you laughed it off."

            "I didn't laugh it off. I just pointed out that it most likely holds no significance.  But, on the other hand, Troya could be correct.  A.J. could be piecing together things he saw."  Kit's eyes shifted to the doctor.   "You told me A.J. might someday start to recall what occurred inside that morgue, what he witnessed."

 

            "Yes, I said that was a possibility."

 

            Kit leaned forward, glancing at the list Troya held in her hands.  He appeared to study it a long moment while wavering back and forth with indecision.

 

            "What, Kit?"  Troya questioned.  "What is it?"

            "I think it's important we find out why A.J. has your father's name written down, and why he has your dad's sunglasses in his possession."

            Tad arched an angry eyebrow, glaring at his old friend.  "Are you insinuating my father was somehow involved in what happened that day?"

            "I'm not insinuating anything."  Kit looked at the blond man over his shoulder.  "I'm just saying it's important that we find out before anyone else sees this paper."

 

            "I don't agree!"  Tad exploded.  "My father would never--"

 

            "Tad, please," Troya interrupted, "please calm down.  I don't like what Kit's implying about Dad anymore than you do, but we have to face some hard facts.  Though you and I have never openly acknowledged it, our father isn't the most honest man who's ever walked the face of the earth.  You know how he can be when one of his...deals is at stake.  He doesn't always use the best judgment, or employ the most moral of methods.  You know as well as I do how that used to upset Mother.  What heartache it brought her.  How many years she tried to hide that fact from us."

 

            "Okay fine!"  Tad swiveled in his chair until he was facing forward again.  He waved his hands in defeat.  "So we're all in agreement that Lowell Brooks can be a downright cad.  Far be it from me to alter that perception, my butt well remembers how true it often is.  But for God’s sake, Troy, that doesn't make him a murderer!"

 

            "I'm not saying it does!"  Troya loyally defended her father.  "I don't believe for one minute it does.  But...but if Dad had anything, anything at all to do with what happened that day, we've got to find out and we've got find out now."

 

            "And do what?"

            "I...I don't know.  Convince him to go to the police, I guess.  Or his lawyer."  Troya took a deep calming breath.  "Look, I'm not saying Dad did anything wrong.  Maybe he's just protecting someone.  Or maybe he witnessed something and is afraid to come forward."

 

            Tad cocked a disbelieving eyebrow.  "Our father afraid?  Yeah, right."

 

            "He could be.  Think about it.  He's trying to sell that place for the city.  Maybe he's afraid to have his name mixed up with what happened.  Or maybe he's got reason to be concerned that if he comes forward someone would hurt you or me in retaliation."

 

            "And I think you've seen too many installments of The Godfather."

 

            "No, she hasn't," Kit defended the woman.  "What she says makes sense.  From what little the police know about the events that occurred in that building, there's no doubt it was a setup of some type.  Considering your dad's involvement in trying to sell the place, it's a possibility he was there."

 

            "As a witness?"  Tad asked pointedly.  "Or as a party to the crime?"

 

            "I don't know.  That's what Troya will have to find out."

 

            "Me?  How?"

            "By discovering what A.J. knows."

            "I'll speak with Rick then. He'll talk to A.J. and--"

 

            "No, not like that," Tad negated.  "Not to begin with.  You find out what A.J. knows without getting Rick involved."

 

            "But, Tad--"

 

            "Look, Troy, I like Rick.   I really do.  I think he's a helluva guy, and if you came to me tomorrow and told me you were going to marry him I'd be thrilled for you.  But, I know you.  I know there's a reason you didn't call Rick this afternoon before you called me.  As a matter of fact, I know there's a reason why you haven't called Rick at all."

 

            Tad's perceptiveness didn't surprise Troya.  Like most twins, they shared a bond that was almost clairvoyant in nature.  Her husky confession was softly spoken and choked with emotion.  "Because as much as I love Rick, this is our father we're talking about.  Because if I have to stake my tent in one camp, it will be in my family's camp."

 

            "And that's as it should be.  We can't have Rick running to that police lieutenant friend of his before we have a chance to talk to Dad."

 

            "How do you know Abby...Lieutenant Marsh?"  Troya asked.

            "Rick's mentioned her a time or two when he and I have been together.  Said that she's a good friend, and often a help to him and A.J. when it comes to solving some of their cases. Anyway, we can't have him running to her before we really know what's going on.  But you don't need me to point all this out to you.  If you're honest with yourself, you'll acknowledge you've already thought it through."

 

            A small smile curved Troya's lips. "You think you know me pretty well, don't you?"

 

            Tad stood, stepping around his desk to come stand beside his sister.  He put an arm around her shoulders, bent and planted a kiss on her cheek. 

 

            "Since the womb, Troy.  Since the womb."

 

            The woman chuckled at the long-standing joke.  When the light-hearted moment passed she looked up at the two men.  "How should I go about doing this?"

 

            Kit smiled, standing to kiss the cheek Tad left untouched.  "Use your feminine wiles while leaving your virtue in tact.  Believe me, it gets to those of us of the male sex every time."

 

            "You're joking right?"

            "It's just a thought," Kit shrugged.  "After all, I'd be willing to bet it's been a good many months since A.J.'s been given the kind of attention from a woman most men crave."

 

            "Kit!  I'm seriously involved with his brother for heaven's sake!"

 

            The policeman's eyebrows waggled up and down in a sexually suggestive gesture.  "That may be so, but A.J. doesn't know that, now does he?"  

 

            When Troya didn't answer him, Kit gave her shoulder a brotherly pat.  "Hey, don't stress out over it to the point you give yourself an ulcer.  Just roll with the punches and play it by ear.  From my experience on the police force I can tell you that sometimes the less you rehearse this type of thing in your mind the better off you'll be.  Just give an impromptu performance, so to speak, and see where it leads you."  Kit glanced at his watch.  "I need to go.  I have get back on patrol." 

 

            Tad nodded while thanking his friend.  Troya absently echoed her brother's thanks as Kit exited the room.  When the door shut behind the man the twins were alone.

 

            Tad eased himself into the chair next to his sister's.  "Are you okay?"

            Troya gave a weak smile.  "I'm fine.  It's just that I'm a doctor, Tad, not an undercover cop.  I've never done this type of thing before."

 

            "I know."  Tad reached over and took one of Troya's hands in his.  "But you'll do fine.  No matter what you attempt, you always come out a winner."

 

            "But I don't want to do anything to damage my relationship with Rick.  Nor do I want to hurt A.J.  In very different ways, they both mean a lot to me." 

 

            "I realize that.  But they don't mean more to you than your own father does, do they?"

            "No."

 

            "Then that's exactly the reason you have to discover why it is A.J.'s got Dad's name written down, and why it is he has Dad's glasses."  Tad gave his sister's hand a sincere squeeze.  "If I could do it for you, Troy, I would.  Honest.  But A.J. doesn't know me very well.   I'm afraid he'll be suspicious if I show up in his room and start asking him questions."

 

            "I'm sure he will be." 

 

            "Troya?"

 

            The use of her full name, something Tad rarely did, caused the woman to focus all her attention on her brother.  She immediately noticed the troubled shadows making his blue eyes dim with unrest.  "Yes?"

 

            "I didn't want to say anything in front of Kit.  Because of him being a cop and all."

 

            "You didn't want to say what in front of Kit?  What is it, Tad?"

            The man took a deep breath that signified his regret at having to bring this subject up.  "Some...some rumors have reached my ears recently about Dad."

 

            "Rumors?"  Troya's heart kicked into an uncomfortable rhythm in her chest.  "What rumors?"

 

            "That Dad..." Tad used his thumb to circle a calming caress over the smooth skin of his sister's hand, but Troya got the impression it was himself he was trying to calm rather than her.

 

            "That Dad what?  What is it you're trying to tell me, Tadpole?"

            The man smiled at the nickname his sister had coined him with during childhood.  "That Dad may have initiated a bribe of some sort in order to get the contract with the city to sell that building."

 

            "A bribe?"

 

            "Yeah."

            "Who told you this?"

 

            "It doesn't matter.  Suffice to say word in the business community travels swift and far when it comes to that type of transaction."

 

            As much as Troya hated to hear this, it didn't come as any great surprise.  It wouldn't be the first time conjecture had it that her father closed a business deal by less than honest means. 

 

            "If what you've heard is true, then it could give our father reason to have been in that building on the afternoon of A.J.'s accident.  He could have been there paying someone off.  That's what A.J. could have witnessed, Tad."  Troya dreaded to think A.J. might have also witnessed her father killing the man whose body had never been found.  Based on Tad's strong reaction to that suggestion when it was implied by Kit earlier; she kept that last revelation to herself.

 

            "The thought's crossed my mind that A.J. could have seen Dad exchanging money with someone," Tad reluctantly agreed.  He reached up to self-consciously wipe at the tear that suddenly came to one eye.    

 

            Troya spoke with firm resolve, knowing this time she had to be the strong twin.  The little boy in Tad might still harbor a lot of hurts for the injustices inflicted upon him by their father during his childhood, but the man in Tad admired Lowell Brooks very much.  Of that, Troya had no doubt.   "I'll find out, Tad.  I'll find out what A.J. saw...if anything."

 

            "How do you plan to go about accomplishing that?"  

 

            "I don't know yet."  Troya's expression broadcast regret at what she was about to say.  "If nothing else, I may be forced to use my feminine wiles like Kit suggested."

 

________________________________

 

            Troya walked down the third floor hallway with a purposeful stride to her step that belayed the heaviness of her heart.  She hated the thought of what she was about to do, absolutely hated it.  But, in the hours that had passed since she'd left her brother's estate, she had yet to come up with a better idea.

 

            I don't want to hurt A.J. I don't want to hurt him, Troya kept reminding herself.  I don't want to hurt Rick, either.  Somehow, I've got to go about this in such a way that neither is the wiser.  But how do I accomplish that?

 

            Troya glanced at her watch to see it was eight minutes after ten.  What few visitors were left on the floor, were making their way to the elevator.  She almost prayed A.J. had someone in his room, but she highly doubted it.  Cecilia was out of town, and if Brendan or anyone else visited they were generally gone by this hour.  That left only Rick, and Troya knew he wasn't on the grounds because he'd called while she was at Tad's.  The written message she'd found on her desk from Dana said Rick was tied up for the evening and would see her the next day.

 

            The doctor stood for a long time outside A.J.'s door, which was opened a quarter of the way. The only light spilling through it came from the small lamp resting on the nightstand.  Troya could hear the detective moving about the room, easily tracing his steps from the bathroom to the bed, then over to the work area. She heard a cabinet door slide open and visualized him retrieving his Walkman.  She knew from things Rick had said A.J. often listened to music before falling asleep.

 

            Troya took a deep breath and knocked on the frame.  "A.J.?"  She didn't wait for an answer before stepping inside.

 

            A.J.'s face registered his surprise, not only at the identity of his late night visitor, but, as well, because she'd entered the room before he'd granted her permission.  And before he'd had a chance to throw a robe over his bare torso and cotton pajama bottoms.

 

            "Hi," Troya smiled, hiding her own unease at just having barged in on a patient in a way that made him obviously uncomfortable. "Sorry it's so late, but Rick asked me to give you a message.  I came looking for you at lunchtime, but evidently you were out on the grounds somewhere and I missed you. I was going to leave you a note but got...side-tracked.  Anyway, your brother stopped by here late last night, but you were already asleep and he didn't want to wake you.  He said he'd try to get a hold of you some time today.  Did he?"

            "No."

 

            "Oh.  Well, he must still be tied up then.  I guess he's pretty busy lately, huh?"

            A.J. watched as the woman shut the door.  He knew it was against policy for any staff member to enter a patient's room and close the door.  In this day and age of constant accusations of sexual harassment or sexual assault, the open-door rule had been put in place by Troya Yeager herself as a means of legal protection for both the patients and staff.  

 

            Troya gave the blond man an easy smile that hid the butterflies dancing in her stomach.  "I said, I guess Rick's pretty busy lately."

 

            "Yes."

 

            "Listen, I know we missed our session today.  Several emergencies arose within my staff.  If you're not too tired, we could work together for a few minutes now."

 

            "Not too tired."

 

            "Come on then."  Troya walked over and hiked herself up on A.J.'s bed.  She gave the mattress a pat.  "Have a seat."

 

            A.J. eyed the woman with uncertainty.  He was well aware he was only half dressed and behind closed doors in a dimly lit room with a beautiful woman.  He briefly wondered if it was by accident, or design.

 

            "Come on," she smiled, "you should know by now I don't bite."

           

The blond man laughed.  "No.  You don-------bite."

 

            "Then sit down next to me.  This won't take long.  I'd hate for it to be said that because of me we didn't meet your goal of being released from this place on your birthday."

            Troya slipped off her blazer and laid it across the end of the bed.  This seemingly casual move left her clad in her slacks and a sheer white blouse.  A sheer white blouse she didn't normally wear to work that was accompanied by a thin, low cut lacy white bra underneath.  A sheer white blouse and lacy bra she'd gone home to change into before returning to the hospital, the entire time hating herself for it.  A sheer blouse that was unbuttoned just far enough to show a hint of rounded, enticing cleavage.

 

            The doctor's warm hand grasped A.J.'s elbow.  Though it wasn't necessary, she helped him ease himself to a seated position.  For as uncomfortable as he'd seemed when she'd entered the room, he now appeared to be relaxed.  He sat beside Troya, his legs swinging back and forth slightly in a gesture that said he didn't have a concern in the world.

 

            Troya caught sight of his bare feet and laughed.  She lightly bumped her elbow into his.  "You look just like Tom Sawyer.  All you need is a straw hat and a fishing pole."

 

            "Rick------hat and fish pole."

            "Rick's more suited to a hat and fishing pole than you?"

            "Yes."

 

            "From what...little I know about your brother, I'd say you're correct on that account.  He is a Tom Sawyer type of guy, isn't he?"

 

            "Yes."

 

            "Listen, A.J., before we get involved in our regular therapy session, I want to attempt something we haven't tried before, but that's necessary prior to your release.  That's necessary for your recovery, I mean."

 

            A.J.'s brows furrowed.  His course of therapy had been mapped out for him long ago.  If there was something he had yet to tackle in only four weeks before he was due to go home he was without a clue as to what that might be.

 

            "I need you to tell me, as best you can recall, what happened the afternoon you were injured."

            "What happen?"

            "Yes.  What happened.  What you might have seen."

 

            "Seen?"

 

            "Yes."

 

            "Seen--------where?"

            Troya wondered what was wrong with the man this evening.  Normally he was sharper than this.  Based on things Rick had told her recently, A.J. occasionally asked him questions regarding the accident, therefore, it was obvious he recalled at least a portion of it. 

 

            "Your accident, A.J.  You and Rick were at the morgue looking for Brendan.  You entered the building.  Can you tell me what happened after that?  It's important that you recall as much of it as you can.  It will help things fall into place for you.  Remember how you told me one time that it's frustrating not knowing exactly what brought you here?"

 

            A.J. nodded.

 

            Troya reached out and gently tapped two fingers against the blond man's forehead.  "Well, all that brought you to me is locked up in here.  I believe if we work together we can release those memories, what do you think?"

 

            A.J. stared into Troya's eyes as though mesmerized by what she promised, both the spoken and unspoken.  "Yes."

 

            Troya smiled.  "Good."  In a seemingly unconscious gesture she allowed a hand to come to rest lightly on A.J.'s left thigh.  Her fingers moved in tiny, ticklish circles as she began asking her questions.

 

            "Do you recall what you went in the building for?"

            A.J. glanced down at the dancing fingertips.       "No."

 

            "Perhaps to look for Brendan?"   Troya prompted.

 

            "Maybe," A.J. teased with a charming grin like he would if he and this woman were engaged in bedroom play.

 

            "Just maybe?"

 

            A.J.'s eyes met the woman's.  This time his words were spaced apart, not because of his injury, but because the hand sliding over his inner thigh was making it difficult to take a full breath.   "Don't--------member."

 

            "Okay, we'll move on to another question."  Troya forced her fingers to rise higher.  "What did you see when you entered the building?  Do you remember that?  Did you see a man get hurt?  Get shot perhaps?"

            "Perhaps."

 

            Troya gave an uneasy chuckle.  "A.J., you're teasing me now, aren't you?  Come on, let's get serious."

 

            A.J.  leaned into the woman, bringing his lips to hers.  "I am serious."

 

            Troya squeezed her eyes shut as she allowed the semi-naked man to kiss her.  She ran her palms up, over, and around A.J.'s bare torso, not leaving one spot untouched.  She had hoped it wouldn't come to this and tried not to let Rick's face appear in her mind.  Her fingernails moved to lightly rake over the blond's back.  She rested her chin on his shoulder, her face, and her tears, looking toward the wall behind the bed.

 

            "A.J...A.J., I've been attracted to you for a long time now.  I...I because of my position here at the hospital I've had to keep my feelings well hidden...you can understand why, of course."

 

            The detective moved down to gently nibble the woman's fragrant neck. 

 

            "A.J.--"

 

            "Shhh," the blond hushed as he nuzzled the doctor's right ear.    "You don-----have-----say any more.  I'm ttracted------you too.  Have been------since day-------I met you."

 

            The blond man maneuvered Troya backwards until he had her half lying on his bed.  He crossed one leg over her hips to pin her in place.  He leaned his body into hers, fumbling with the buttons on her blouse. 

 

            "A.J....A.J, we need to talk before this goes any farther."  Troya fought to maintain the precarious balance she had on her elbows, while at the same time A.J. pushed her deeper into the mattress.  "Please.   Please we need...we need to get my questions answered, and then we can discuss...us.  This."

 

            A.J. had the first three buttons on Troya's blouse undone.  He placed light kisses on the hollow of her throat, giving a deep growl of sexual excitement.  "Now is not time------to talk.  Or ask questions.  Or discuss."          

 

            The last thing Troya wanted to do was call attention to what was going on in this room.  But somehow she had to get A.J. to stop before this culminated into something they'd both regret.  This wasn't how she had envisioned this would go.  It wasn't as easy as she thought it would be.  She'd expected A.J. to be confused, possibly flustered like a shy schoolboy who was being given his first kiss, vulnerable to her feminine charms, vulnerable and ready to give up all his secrets for a soft caress.  But this was more than she'd bargained for.  A virile man physically stronger than she thought possible given his lengthy hospital stay. Her boyfriend's brother for God sake, ready to take her, to claim her for his own, right on his hospital bed.

 

            When A.J. took one of Troya's hands and placed it at the fly of his pajamas she began to struggle in earnest.   "A.J.!  A.J., please!"  The woman cried just above a whisper.  "A.J., please, we have to talk!  Please!"

 

            A.J.'s blue eyes were bright with anticipation.  "We talk later.  First we------do this."

 

            "No.  I--"

 

            A.J. leaned into the desirable woman.  Her elbows collapsed under his weight, forcing her flat on her back across his bed.   The white bow she still wore in her hair, a poignant reminder of how pleasant her day had started and with whom, dug painfully into her neck. 

 

            The detective's face halted a bare inch above Troya's, as did his body.  His voice was so soft she could barely hear his words of rigid steel.  The lust in his eyes from moments earlier had been replaced with burning fury. 

 

            "You said we------need talk, doctor.  I sug-----gest-------you do just. I sug---suggest you-----start talk----talking righ-----right now or--

 

            Before A.J. could finish his sentence his arms were grabbed in a crushing grip.  Troya watched as he sailed off her body, hitting the wall with a deep 'thud'.  The nightstand tumbled to the floor, and with it the alarm clock and lamp.  The glass base of the lamp broke, shattering into a multitude of sharp pieces, though the bulb was still intact at the top and gave off light yet from where it lay on its side on the tiles. 

 

            "What the hell are you doing!" Rick Simon roared.   He reached down, yanking A.J. to his feet.  He gave the blond a series of shakes so violent A.J.'s teeth rattled in his head.  "Huh?  What the hell is going on here!  Answer me!  What the hell were you doing?"         

 

            Troya scrambled off the bed.  "Rick!  Rick, stop it!  Rick!"

 

            Rick ignored the woman while shoving A.J.'s backwards toward the work counter.   "What were you thinking?  Answer me Goddammit!  What were you thinking?  Answer me, A.J.!"

 

            "Rick, stop it!"  Troya latched onto Rick's arm, trying to pull him away from his brother.  "Rick!  Rick stop!  Stop please!"

 

            "Troya, get outta here!"  Rick easily shagged himself from the woman's grasp.  "Just go!  I'll handle this!"

 

            "No!  Not like this you won't!  Now stop it!"

 

            Rick pushed his brother across the room, again ignoring Troya's pleas.  A.J. stumbled backwards, unable to gain his footing before being pushed again.  Rick grabbed him by the upper arm, reeling him forward until they were nose to nose like drill sergeant and private, the whole while shaking A.J. in time with the words he shouted.  "I can't believe you!   I can't believe what I just saw!  Have you lost your mind or what?  Have you?  Do you know what you were about to do to this woman?  Do you know she could charge you with sexual assault?  Do you know you were about two steps away from raping her?"

 

            Troya couldn't stand the accusatory glare A.J. threw her over Rick's shoulder.  Nor could she stand the confusion and hurt she heard in Rick's voice on behalf of his brother's actions.  The confusion and hurt that so easily drowned out his fury.  She gave the soft cry of a wounded animal, turned, and raced from the room. She threw open the stairwell door, the tears in her eyes causing her to stumble blindly while fumbling to button her blouse.       

           

________________________________

 

            Troya Yeager slammed her office door behind her, thankful it was late and no one had been present to witness any portion of the scene that had just occurred.  No one but Rick, of course.  She had no idea if his shouts had been heard beyond A.J.'s room, but prayed they hadn't been.  At least the room was relatively isolated, and the hour late enough, so that the doors leading to the rooms of the other patients had been closed.

 

            Troya shoved a fist in her mouth to stifle her rib-quaking sobs.  She melted down the wall, ending up on the floor on her bottom.  She felt cheap and deceitful.  God only knew what was going to happen when Rick calmed down enough to talk to A.J.  Surely A.J. would tell him what had really occurred in that room.  Surely A.J. would tell Rick that she had come on to him.  How was she ever going to defend her actions when Rick demanded an explanation of her?

 

            Troya could taste the salt from her tears as her anguished mind faced the conseque