Acts of Honor by Vicki Hinze Read Free Book Online Page B

can’t perform miracles. I need money—now. We both want results, so give me what I need to get them.”
    “He will only be a moment,” the secretary whispered and then left, softly closing the office door behind her.
    Not invited to sit, Sara stood and waited, her duffel bag’s strap slung over her shoulder. So far, her bags and purse had been searched twice. That wasn’t uncommon in certain mental facilities, but the stringent checkpoints, advanced security systems, and wary expressions around here were very uncommon. Everyone inside Braxton looked as if they worked under a cloud of doom and gloom, which reinforced her uneasy feelings about the place. And considering Dr. Fontaine’s raging on the phone at the poor soul Carl, the mood around here appeared destined to grow more grim.
    First, lock-down conflicts with her Foster-appointed phone-conference time, and now this. Well, Sara, you’re definitely batting a thousand.
    “All I want to know is how much longer before we’re ready to go on this?” Fontaine held up a hand. “That’s all I want to know, Carl.” Fontaine swiveled around, saw her, and his face blanched white.
    Clearly he hadn’t realized he was no longer alone. Trying to diffuse the tension, and his temper, Sara smiled.
    He didn’t smile back. “I’ll, um, call back later.” Glaring at her, he slammed down the receiver. “Who are you, and just how did you get in here?”
    “Dr. Sara West,” she said, knowing his secretary was in for one major ass-chewing as soon as Sara left. “I was escorted.” That was about as abstract as she dared to get.
    “Dr. West.” He extended a hand over his desk. “You’re to do a little PTSD research, I understand.”
    Sara nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
    “Sir,” he corrected her with a tight smile. “You’re a doctor, but you’re also a major in the United States Air Force, and I’m a colonel—your superior officer. Don’t let the lack of uniforms here deceive you. This is first and foremost a military facility.” He blinked and softened his tone. “I realize your presence at this facility is merely a Department of Defense convenience, but Braxton and its patients will always be my responsibility. During your stay, I would appreciate your acting as a positive role model for others. Discipline is vital to performance, and performance is vital to our patients.”
    Perfect. Another Foster-like, hard-core military man with an attitude. But Fontaine was right. Technically, she worked directly for the DoD, and Fontaine had no say about her coming here. If he had, would he have admitted her? “Yes, sir.”
    “My orders are to give you a free hand with the PTSD patients and their therapies. I’ve agreed to that, but with reluctance.” He dropped his gaze. “You might as well know that I opposed this project and your research here.”
    Now why didn’t that surprise her? His attitude certainly explained her frosty reception. Obviously, the man carried rank and influence inside Braxton that spilled over to its employees. “Any particular reason, Doctor?”
    “It’s my job to protect Braxton and its patients. Frankly, your unorthodox methods create serious reservations about your techniques.”
    Hard-core military and closed-minded. Realistically speaking, insurmountable obstacles. As a pioneer, she’d sadly encountered closed minds often. If not for her family and that operative, Sara would march right out of here and risk Foster pulling his worst. “If you were reluctant and opposed, then why am I here, sir?”
    His tapping fingers stilled, and he flattened them on the desk. “Because you have enjoyed some success, and the DoD members involved in the decision-making process felt differently.”
    Her eighty-percent success rate beat the socks off any other doctor’s, and they both knew it. But Sara didn’t need an enemy here, especially not the facility director, so she kept her comments to herself, and again silently cursed Foster. If