âSam, itâs Liz. I need to speak with you right away. Call me on my cell.â
A jolt of adrenaline shot through Sam Martin as he set his black medical bag on the kitchen counter and reached for the pad and pen next to the answering machine. He hadnât seen Liz Warren, his wifeâs best friend, since the night Cara left him, and heâd only spoken with her once after that. If she was calling, something was up. And a sick feeling of dread told him it wasnât good.
Jotting down the number as she recited it, Sam checked his watch. If his house call deep in rural Missouri hadnât taken two hours, he would have arrived back in Oak Hill early enough to return the call without guilt. But it was almost eleven on the east coast, and Liz hadnât used the emergency cell phone number he provided on his home and office answering machines. Whatever she wanted to talk to him about couldnât be urgent. But there was no way he could wait until tomorrow to find out the reason for her call. Better to risk waking her than spend a sleepless night counting the hours until morning.
As he punched in Lizâs number, it occurred to him that she might have gone out for the evening. It was Saturday, after all. But if she had, heâd leave a message to call him back when she returned, no matter the hour. Heâd be awake anyway.
To his relief, a live voice answered. âHello.â
âLiz, itâs Sam. I just got your message.â
There was a slight hesitation before she responded. âIâve been having some second thoughts about calling you.â
Sam heard the coolnessâand cautionâin her voice. No surprise there. Sheâd been Caraâs best friend far longer than heâd known his wife. And sheâd witnessed his ultimate betrayal. He understoodâand respectedâher loyalty. But he wasnât about to hang up without finding out why sheâd called. It was too late for that.
âI assume it concerns Cara.â
Another brief silence.
âLook, Sam, to be honest, youâre the last person I wanted to call,â Liz finally said. âIf Caraâs parents werenât on a missionary trip in Africa for a year, and if her sister wasnât eight months pregnant and in the middle of preparing to move, Iâd have called them. But they are and she is, so I didnât know who else to contact.â
âAbout what, Liz?â Samâs grip on the phone tightened. It took every ounce of his restraint to remain calm when his mind was racing with terrifying scenarios.
âIâ¦I think Cara needs some help. Iâve tried to talk with her about it, but she shuts me out and says sheâs fine. Except she isnât. Not even close. And I donât know what else to do.â Her voice broke on the last word.
âOkay, Liz, youâre going to have to back up. Whatâs wrong with Cara? Is she sick?â Sam couldnât stop the quiver that ran through his voice. Liz was the most in-control woman heâd ever met. If she was upset enough to let her emotions show, there was a major problem.
âNot physically.â The sound of a deep breath being drawn came over the line. When she continued, she sounded more like herself. âA month ago, Cara and another chef named Tony were leaving the restaurant after hours, and they were accosted in the parking lot by a robber. When Tony tried to resist, the guy shot him. He died before the ambulance got there.â
A muscle in Samâs jaw clenched. Cara had witnessed a murderâand possibly faced death herself. If he hadnât made a mess of their marriage, heâd have been there for her through this trauma. Instead, sheâd had to deal with itâand the aftermathâalone.
âTell meâ¦â He stopped and cleared his throat, then tried again. âTell me about Cara.â
âShe tried to go back to work a few days after the shooting, but when she had a panic attack in the kitchen the owner suggested she take a little time off. The thing is, though, sheâs not getting any better. She rarely leaves her apartment, and never at night. Sheâs anxious in the dark and canât sleep when sheâs by herself. She has persistent nightmares. I found that out when she stayed with us at the beginning. But now she thinks sheâs wearing out her welcomeâ¦as if that was possible! Anyway, I know sheâs still not sleeping.â
Post-traumatic stress disorder. It was an easy diagnosis, but a difficult condition to treat. Sam had learned enough about it in the past couple of years to write a book. âDoes her family know about any of this?â
âNo. She said they all have enough on their plates, and since she wasnât hurt there was no need to upset them.â
That sounded like Cara. Sheâd always put other peopleâs needs above her own. The best example of that was when sheâd stood by him after his own trauma, despite the verbal abuse heâd heaped on her. Perhaps now he could return the favor by being there for her as she had been for him. If sheâd let him.