The first image was of a Caucasian man behind the wheel of a BMW, the same BMW that had apparently caused the accident. The second was of another male, this one Asian. He was driving the Camry. The third was the Camry’s passenger, a woman.
Helen stared at the screen. She had met this woman before.
“Shit,” she said under her breath.
“Ma’am?” Central said.
“Nothing.”
“Have you opened the files?”
“Yes.”
“According to witnesses, the woman claimed to be a nurse. She and the Asian male helped the BMW’s driver out of his car and over to theirs. While she stayed with the injured man, the other one returned to the BMW and retrieved a bag from its trunk before they left.” Another click of a key. “I went ahead and ran the plate on the Camry, and came back with the name Misty Blake. The picture on the driver’s license issued to that name matches the woman in the picture I just sent you. I have an address, and will be dispatching a team there momentarily. I should have more answers for you very soon.”
“Have you reported any of this to the client?”
Central was silent for a moment. “Not yet.”
Good, Helen thought. At least something was still in her control.
“Have your team stand down,” she said.
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me. Tell them to stand down.”
“But…the woman. We should—”
“You should do as ordered. Or would you like to be relieved?”
“No, ma’am. How would you like me to proceed, then?”
“As far as O & O is concerned, this project is closed,” Helen told him. “You will cease all surveillance, seal the records, and forward no more information to the client. Any inquiries from the client should be directed to me. Is that understood?”
“Are you going to tell this to Director Stone, or should I?”
“You will tell him. You will also tell him to get on a plane and be in my office first thing tomorrow morning. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She could tell he was eager to get off the line, so she said, “If there is anything else I should know about, tell me now, because if I find out you’ve kept something from me, your job isn’t the only thing you’re going to need to worry about.”
“No, ma’am. I believe that’s it.”
She let him hang on the line for several seconds before she said, “All right. Good. Please keep me posted on the condition of your men.”
“Of course.”
Helen set her phone down on the desk, and looked once more at the image of the woman on her monitor.
Misty Blake. Helen had never known her last name. To her, the woman had only been Misty, Peter’s executive assistant.
She had no idea what the hell was going on, but she knew she needed to get a handle on it. She also knew that Peter would have wanted her to protect Misty, so that’s where she decided to start.
She turned to her computer, found Misty’s record, and set about making the woman disappear.
CHAPTER 18
The sun had just set when Quinn’s plane landed at St. Renard’s International Airport. He hurried through Customs and grabbed the first available cab. When it finally pulled up in front of the hospital compound, he didn’t even wait until it came to a full stop before throwing open the door and jumping out.
It took all of his will not to run through the corridors as he made his way to Orlando’s room. Reaching her door, he paused to catch his breath and then stepped inside.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find, but it wasn’t seeing Orlando lying in bed, her eyes closed, and looking exactly as she had when he’d left. He stopped a few feet in, perplexed.
Liz was sitting in a chair next to the bed. She twisted around when she heard him enter, then jumped up and rushed over.
“I…I thought…” Quinn stammered. “I mean, Nate said she was awake.”
His sister put a hand on his shoulder and whispered, “She was.”
He looked past her at the bed again. “But…”
“She’s asleep. Normal sleep. Not like before.”
He relaxed a little. “Did she say anything?”
A gentle smile graced Liz’s lips. “Not much. Just that she was thirsty.”
“That’s it?”
Liz started to turn him toward the door. “Why don’t we talk in the hall?”
He glanced at Orlando, not wanting to leave in case she opened her eyes again.
“We’ll be right outside,” Liz assured him.
With extreme reluctance, he followed his sister into the corridor. As soon as the door was closed, he said, “Dr. Montero said she wasn’t going to wake for three days at least.”
“Her vital signs were improving, so he eased back on what they were using to keep her under.”
“You could’ve told me that. I would have come back sooner.”
She grasped his bicep. “Jake, look at me. If I had known, I would’ve called you, but we only found out he’d done that after she opened her eyes the first time.”
“How many times has she been awake?”
“Two more times since Nate called you.”
Two more times Orlando had seen he wasn’t there. “What’s Dr. Montero saying now?”
“He’s cautiously optimistic.”
“That tells me nothing.” Quinn spun around as if he might spot Montero standing nearby. “I want to talk to him. Where is he? I need to know exactly how she is.”
As his voice grew louder, a nurse at a station down the hall looked up. With a frown, she patted the air, gesturing for him to lower his volume.
“Jake,” Liz said, taking hold of both his arms this time, and stopping him from twisting the other way. “The important thing is that she’s getting better.”
“I want to talk to Dr. Montero.” Until he heard the doctor tell him that, he couldn’t allow himself to believe it.
Liz took a breath. “Fine. Why don’t you go back inside and I’ll see if I can find him, all right?”
He nodded. “All right.” He paused. “Thank you.”
He let himself back into the room, walked over to the bed, and looked down at Orlando. He immediately realized his original assessment of her had been wrong. She didn’t look exactly as she had when he’d left. There was color in her cheeks now that helped rid her face of the lifeless mask it had been wearing. And someone — Liz, no doubt — had combed her hair, so that it lay on either side of her head.
If he narrowed his eyes to slits and blocked out everything else but her, he could almost believe they were at her house in San Francisco. That she was taking a nap, waiting for him to return from a workout, a trip to the store, or some other unimportant task. That if he leaned down and kissed her, she would ease her arms around him and pull him onto the bed with her, where they would stay for the rest of the day.
And the next.
And the next.
Her hand was lying on top of the covers. He slipped his fingers under it, and gently moved them across her palm, tracing the familiar creases. He desperately wanted to squeeze her palm, not hard, just enough to wake her so that she would see him, so that she’d know he was there. But he knew that would only be selfish. She’d wake soon enough.
“She looks better, doesn’t she?”
Quinn snapped his head around. Nate was standing a few feet away. Quinn had been so focused on Orlando, he hadn’t heard the door open. That was unnerving. He always knew what was going on around him.
“Sorry,” Nate whispered. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Quinn’s former apprentice was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, not the hospital gown Quinn had last seen him in. “Not intruding,” Quinn said. “I was just…” He stopped as he lost the energy to explain himself, and turned back to Orlando. “Did you talk to her?”