Bed of Thorns

By Jack Lawrence

Crissy Montgomery possesses a flash drive that holds the key to toppling a powerful figure. Fearing for her life, she turns to Bella Martin for help. But when Crissy is found murdered the next day, Bella begs David Thorne to find those responsible.

David's life is already in turmoil, juggling personal and business challenges. A

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack Lawrence
• Release date: Aug 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088198629

Jack Lawrence

Jack was born and raised in Indianapolis. He worked as a family therapist, starting in addiction treatment and then moving on to private practice. He enjoys traveling with his wife, particularly in their camper. Jack finds his most creative ideas come while he is in nature or by the water fishing.

Book preview

⸙

To Dot and V, for always being the early

eyes on my writing.

Chapter 1

David Thorne sat in a swivel chair ten years past its life span behind an old wooden table to the left side of the assembly room. The room was full of spectators, some other therapists, with the Indiana Mental Health Licensing Board ready to cast their judgment. He could feel a cold sweat begin to form at the crest of his dark brown hair. His jaw muscles ached from clenching his teeth. He rubbed the jaw muscles hidden under the close shaven stubble over his face. He could feel his mouth drying by the second. When he licked his lips, it was like sandpaper scraping away at the delicate flesh.

He reached for the empty glass before him with his left hand then the plastic pitcher of water with his right. He poured the water into the glass until it was full then quickly emptied it in two strong gulps. It did little to help. He could feel his mother—also his secretary—behind him, he knew she would be praying the hearing would go well.

It had been eight months since the board suspended his license to practice therapy. Nine months since Havana. For him, this was his judgment day. The day the board would either reinstate his license or end his career. A career he had built over the years through his private practice, his writing, as well as his lectures for other professionals in the field of therapy, principally marriage and family. The day his license was suspended he hired a fresh therapist, James Patrickson, to take on his caseload to keep his clients.

The whole ordeal began nine months before, when his client of six months, Caroline Baker, had gone missing. Caroline and her husband Braden had come to David for couples therapy. After only three months, Braden stopped attending. Thus, it became individual therapy for Caroline. In their last session together, Caroline confessed she was ready to leave her husband. She was tired of being in a loveless marriage.

The next week, Caroline missed her session. She did not answer his calls, texts, or emails. The police did not seem concerned, even though no one had seen her since she left his office. David canceled all his sessions for the next week to travel to Havana, Indiana. An exclusive commune for the ultra-wealthy located near the Indiana Dunes State Park. In the process, he unraveled a drug ring which led to solving several murders. He also found Caroline, who would have been murdered had he not followed his gut. His best friend, Jack, an IMPD detective, and a local waitress, Bella Martin, were the only two who believed David when he suspected something had happened to Caroline.

The case caught national attention. For months his face had been plastered on news outlets and blogs, dubbed a Guardian Angel. He became a meme—all flattering. Although he hated the attention, he knew it was the one thing that saved his license eight months ago when they decided to suspend it. The board would not risk the backlash that would come from pulling the license outright of the Guardian Angel. However, now, his career was not as secure. The attention had slowed down after it lost its sensationalism.

David could not hold it against the board if they decided to ban him from practicing. He did break a client’s confidentiality, abandoned other clients, and showed clear countertransference, in the process, decimating the therapist/client boundaries. He spat on half the code of ethics he swore to uphold when he was licensed. Now, he would have to pay for his actions. Even if the board granted him his license, he was not sure how many people would trust him to keep their struggles private. Valor only went so far.

Mr. Thorne, Dr. Janice Arthur began the hearing. She was a sixty-something-year-old woman who had practiced as a therapist only for a few months before obtaining her Ph.D. in order to turn to academia and research. Her face was cold. Expressionless. Her ashen hair had been freshly permed for public judgment. Thick-rimmed glasses hung low on her nose, magnifying each of David’s offenses. She wore a thick white sweater, which was overkill for the warming March days.

David stood, fighting the restlessness in his legs that itched to bounce in a desperate attempt to expel the nervous energy boiling inside.

I am David Thorne, MS, LMFT, his voice was solid despite the dry mouth induced by his nervousness.

The board will vote regarding the issue of your licensure to practice therapy in the state of Indiana. All six board members will vote with either, ‘Yay,’ or, ‘Nay.’ The majority vote will carry. Her eyes were glued to a sheet in front of her. Never lifting to even acknowledge him. Is there anything you would like to say before we state our ruling?

I would just like to thank the board for your consideration in reinstating my license. I have spent my entire career with only one goal; to help as many people as I possibly could. I cannot express enough my sincere regrets for breaking my ethical obligations, thereby the trust my clients put in me.

David’s mouth hurt from the dryness. He thought about pouring another drink of water, although, decided it would not help.

I cannot justify my actions nor point to any clear evidence supporting my decision to abandon my other clients to look for one I had no proof was in danger. I know I should have entrusted the police with the task, yet something in me told me I had an obligation to my client. David scanned the faces of the board members. A few seemed sympathetic, some disgusted. Dr. Arthur continued to face the sheet below her.

I can only apologize for breaking my client’s confidence. But regardless of the board’s decision today, I know I can walk out of this hearing with my conscience intact. Because if I had done nothing only to learn my client had been murdered, I would never be able to live with myself or have faith in my ability to help anyone. Knowing she is home, living her life the best she can after the terrible events that she endured, I can live my life knowing I did the right thing.

David felt his heart slapping behind his ribs. The room felt off balance as if it may flip at any moment. He quickly sat down, fearing that he would pass out if he did not. David was confident, though, this was the second time he put his entire career on the line. The board would either sympathize with his message or take offense. Based on the faces of the six board members, he felt he had achieved the latter.

Mr. Thorne, Dr. Arthur asserted, we as therapists are held to a high standard when it comes to caring for our clients and patients. We are entrusted with their darkest pains, their deepest worries. Entrusted that everything they say, bar mandated reporting, is kept in confidence. We are also entrusted to be there for them when they need us. We are expected to keep our emotions in check. If we have unhealthy emotional reactions or connections with clients and patients, we must address them immediately. You failed catastrophically in all these areas.

She took a deep breath then at last brought her eyes up to see David for the first time since the beginning of the hearing. I can also respect the fact you believed your client was in grave danger—a belief that turned out to be true. While I do not approve of your methods, I do believe it is our ultimate duty to protect our clients. Which you did, unconditionally. Your client confirmed this in her interview. Therefore, I will begin the voting with a vote of, ‘Yay,’ that David Thorne’s license is fully reinstated. Effective immediately.

David mouthed, Thank you, Dr. Arthur nodded then gave him a gentle smile that warmed her cold face.

The board voted left to right. Two to the left of Dr. Arthur followed by three to her right.

Yay.

Nay. David’s heart skipped a beat. He suddenly felt a wave of nausea revolt against his gut.

Nay.

Yay.

It came down to one final vote. The nameplate in front of the man read, Dr. Ishmael. He was a black man in an Armani suit, David had the same suit at home. He wore similar glasses to what rested on the face of Dr. Arthur. David did not know Dr. Ishmael. David could not read the man’s face. Dr. Ishmael seemed to be trying to read David just as hard as David tried to read him.

David just hoped the man would speak soon, before he passed out or worse, threw up on the table. Finally, Dr. Ishmael took a deep breath.

Yay.

David, for the second time in his life, experienced an adrenaline dump. It was not as traumatizing as the night in Havana when he and Jack had the shootout with the sheriff. Still, it hit hard. His nausea increased. As it grew, he became incredibly dizzy. Passing out now seemed like a reprieve.

The board hereby reinstates David Thorne’s license to practice therapy in the state of Indiana without restriction, effective immediately. Dr. Arthur smiled. The room erupted in claps and cheers. Next order of business, she ordered. Her words were just audible above the crowd. David did not remember what she said next.

Chapter 2

When David finally made it to the hall so the next hearing could take place, he found his mother standing arm-in-arm with Bella out in the corridor. His mother, Harriet, had spent most of her adult life as a single mother working full-time as a hospital receptionist while raising David. His parents divorced when he was young. She always did what she had to for the two of them to thrive. When she retired from the hospital, she joined David’s practice to help him manage the office work until he could afford to hire someone else. Eventually, that time came and went. Harriet stayed on without hesitation.

She had grand ideas of traveling the country, reading on beaches up and down each coast. Truth be told, it sounded lonely with no one to share her retirement with. Other activities bored her. Mostly, she enjoyed the extra time with her son. She reached up and pulled David down for a hug.

Oh, Honey! I knew you would win. Only a fool would punish a hero, she kissed his cheek gently then brushed it away with her thumb.

I am no hero, Mother. I thank you for the support, all the same. David turned to Bella. I thought you had class today?

She kissed his dry lips but did not seem offended by the sandpaper texture. He nearly melted again, this time from her scent rising into his nostrils followed by the softness of her lips. David had met Bella in Havana at the diner where she waitressed. His time there was short, nevertheless, he had been drawn to her like steel to a magnet. The force had been undeniable. For both of them. He fell in love with her. When it was time for him to leave, he asked her to come back to Indianapolis with him. She did.

While both wanted to live together, and David more than had the room, Bella wanted to prove to herself she could make it. David found her a tutor for the LSAT, he paid her exam fees, he would help her study every night. She passed the exam with ease. She was accepted into Waylen’s School of Law only two months later. Within three years, she would be a lawyer.

Waylen’s was the conjoining of two Indiana universities, where students could study any field the two schools offered. It was convenient because Waylen had apartments in which Bella could walk two minutes back and forth from home to class. Being located downtown had the added benefit that there were several bars she could serve at before or after class. It was also only a few minutes’ drive from David’s apartment.

I skipped it. I was not going to miss this. She kissed him again. Besides, if anyone asks, I will just say I was sitting in on a trial.

"This wasn’t exactly a trial," he told her. Though it was as close as he hoped he would ever get.

Same difference. She looked down at her watch. Crap, I do have to meet a friend for lunch. Dinner tonight?

Can’t wait, he beamed.

David turned to his mother who was crying. I am so happy that at last, you found a good woman.

Me too, just wish it didn’t have to take all of this, David raised his hands and did a half-spin.

Reminds me of your father and me.

Now, there is a scary thought, he teased. David put an arm around his mother as they began walking down the hall. How are things at the office? It was a question he now typically asked only twice a week. The young therapist David had hired was good at his job. Even still, David could not help but ache knowing he was not able to be active in his practice.

Just as good as when you came by yesterday, Harriet told him. The clients love James.

I know. I am just glad to be done with all of this.

Does Jack know you were cleared?

Have not had a chance to talk to him. In truth, a part of David envied Jack. The two met when they were kids, instantly becoming best friends. Jack risked his career and life to help David. He had been shot in Havan. If not for Jack, David probably would have been killed in Havana. There was pained envy, David noticed. Jack had been suspended with pay for his actions, but only for a month. Other cops and detectives crowned him a superhero. They applauded him. They went out of their way to honor him.

David, on the other hand, had been mostly chastised by his colleagues. Only the outside world saw him as a hero. Not that it mattered. David did not want accolades or ovations. Although he did want to be respected by his peers. He did want to be respected as a therapist, above all, he wanted his clients to be able to trust him.

Chapter 3

David and his mother stopped by a new restaurant around the corner from the office. Jasmine’s Bistro was just one of many food spots along the canal. David ordered the Lamb Couscous. His mother ordered the more traditional Stuffed Pork Tenderloin. David did not have the heart to tell his mother it would not be the traditional Indiana sandwich she was expecting. She seemed to enjoy it anyway.

After they ate, David ordered Chicken Piri Piri to go for James. The shared calendar showed he would be free for the next hour.

Once inside the office, Harriet bolted for her desk. She flipped open the paper calendar she still operated from. She began writing with furious speed as if whatever she was tracking would be lost forever if she didn’t. Almost on cue, James emerged from the second office which had, up until eight months ago, been used as a storage area. Now, however, it was James’ office. Much smaller than David’s, but for the new therapist, just perfect.

I take it all went well, James inquired as he extended his hand to David. David shook his hand letting his smile tell the story.

James was only a year into his associate’s license. He still received weekly supervision which was negotiated as part of their agreement. He had started his professional life as a teacher. Through the years he felt that between the parents as well as the school board, his ability to help anyone was stifled. James felt as though the profession had been transformed from focusing on teaching children to pacifying the parents that complained the loudest. At forty, he returned to school to study for his master’s in family therapy. Now, at forty-three, he was only a year away from being an unrestricted therapist. James had been referred to David by a former classmate who practiced in the suburbs. The timing could not have been better. David recognized that.

James looked the part, David thought. Of both educator and therapist. He stood just over six-foot, he almost always wore dark blue denim jeans with a striped sweater or cardigan to conceal a button-down shirt. Occasionally, he would switch the sweater for a blazer, but usually only when he wanted to dress down. His thick black hair had been perfectly styled with the same elegant brush over to the right of his head. His black glasses were always seemingly glued in place on his nose. He almost reminded David of a young Christopher Reeves.

That is amazing, David! We must celebrate.

Already got a head start, David said, handing him the takeout bag. "Piri Piri Chicken, which from my understanding, is divine."

James took the bag and offered a grateful smile. When James came on, David transferred his entire caseload over to James, so he knew how busy he was. Well, I have my next client in forty-five minutes. So, I better eat quickly.

Actually, Harriet countered from behind her desk, they canceled.

A look of relief swept over James’ face. He worked ten-hour days, often seeing up to eight clients per day. David knew he was tired. David sincerely hoped he would be able to eliminate some of the burden now. Perhaps he could offer James a raise from the 30% he received from each client.

That is perfect, David told him. Can I steal some of your time?

James nodded as he followed David into his office.

David closed the door behind them before he made his way to his Herman Miller lounge chair, which rested behind his desk. James went over to the