Текст книги "Sleep No More "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

“Yes, you are.” He smiled down at her. “I knew it the moment I saw you. It was just waiting to come out.”

“I’ll help.” Joe came and took his other arm. “It will be quicker.”

“I didn’t notice your being this solicitous after you got me away from the hospital,” Newell said dryly. “I was on my own.”

“That’s what you wanted,” Joe said. “And I wasn’t sure how much of a victim you were.” He looked over his shoulder at Eve. “Take my computer up to the bedroom, will you?”

Eve nodded. “Be careful out there, Joe.”

“I doubt if Drogan is going to be on the attack unless I get lucky and locate him. His objective is Beth right now. He won’t want to scare her off by slitting my throat.”

“That’s comforting,” Eve said as she started up the stairs. “That’s a pretty big ‘unless’ you just threw out. Good night, Beth, Newell.”

“Good night.” Beth’s voice was surprised. Then repeated, “Good night, Eve.”

“Why do you sound so startled?” Eve asked over her shoulder.

“They never said good night to me at the hospital. I guess they thought I was so hazy from the drugs that I wouldn’t understand it. Or maybe they didn’t really consider me a person. I guess I was just a job, or someone to—” She shook her head as she walked with Billy down the hall. “That sounds like whining again, and it’s not really important. It’s crazy that all the little things are bombarding me. They didn’t say good night…”

Those little things were bombarding Eve, too, she thought as she watched Beth walk away from her. And the bombardment of small slights and sharp pinpricks were causing the anger to begin to build within her. The loneliness, the neglect, the careless disregard of humanity. She wanted to strike out.

Get a grip. As Beth said, this was a small thing in the big picture. Think about those years of captivity and subjugation. Focus the anger on Pierce or that monster Drogan or the Avery family, who seemed to be standing in the shadows, directing the action.

Her hand tightened on Joe’s computer as she turned and started up the stairs.

Not for long.

We’re going to bring you bastards down.

*   *   *

“WILL YOU BE OKAY?” Beth asked as she opened the door of the maid’s bedroom. “Do you need me to do anything else, Billy?”

“Hell, no.” His lips indented at the corners with the faintest touch of amusement. “What would you do, undress me and put me to bed?”

“If that’s what you need.”

“It’s not what I need.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “I’m doing fine. Stop worrying. Tell her, Quinn.”

“He can take it from this point,” Joe said. “And you might damage his pride if you carry it any further. Marines tend to be a little touchy in that category.”

Beth frowned. “Marines?”

“You didn’t know Newell was in the Marines?”

“No, I didn’t know. He didn’t tell me.”

“It wasn’t important.” Newell gave her a little push and went into the bedroom. “I’ll see you in the morning. If you need me, come and get me. I’ll be fine after a couple hours’ sleep. Don’t you go too far away from the house, Quinn. She’s more important than taking down Drogan.” The door closed behind him.

Beth hesitated, staring at the panels of the door.

“He’ll be fine, Beth,” Joe said. “You can’t do anything more for him. Now go and get some rest yourself.” He turned toward the door. “But first, walk with me to the door and give me the security code so that I don’t have to disturb anyone when I need to come back in.”

“It wouldn’t disturb me.” She turned and walked beside him toward the front door. “I don’t sleep well anyway. Maybe I got too much rest during the last years.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that would have anything to do with it. You’ll probably straighten out once your body adjusts to the new rhythm.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t seem to be tired, and that means I can do more.”

“More what?”

“Learning, absorbing,” She paused. “Living.” They had reached the door, and she swiftly punched in the security code. “It’s a sequence of eight numbers starting with two and—”

“Continuing with three, six, eleven, four, nine, fourteen, one.”

Her eyes widened. “You remember that from my entering it just one time?”

“No, I caught the last four numbers when you set the code when I came into the house. I only had to concentrate on the first four.”

“You have a good memory.”

“Training.” He smiled. “And concentration. Concentration is very valuable. Remind me to tell you someday about a lady who has recently reinforced just how valuable to both Eve and me.” He opened the door. “Set the security panel behind me. Good night, Beth.”

“I’ll be awake when you come back.” She moistened her lips. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Oh?” His expression was suddenly wary. “Is that right?”

She suddenly realized what he was thinking. “Eve told you? I didn’t think she’d do that.” She threw back her head and laughed. “You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, and there’s no reason for you to be uneasy. It wasn’t anything personal.”

“I’d think that the proposition was intensely personal. At least to me.” He tilted his head. “And I believe you and Eve have already discussed this. Why bring it up again?”

“I told you not to jump to conclusions.” She made a dismissing gesture. “I gave that idea up when it seemed to disturb her. I just thought it would save me time and trouble. From what I remember, everyone said most guys don’t care who they screw.”

“I’m not most guys,” he said. “So what is this favor?”

“I want you to tell me about Eve,” she said. “I want to know everything about her. I figure that you’d know more than anyone else since you’re lovers.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“She wouldn’t tell me everything. There are things she wouldn’t consider important. A person looking from a distance sees a different picture.” She paused, then said haltingly, “I’ve never had a family. Rick is more my friend than family. I kept telling myself when I was growing up that I didn’t need anyone but myself. That I’d be just fine as long as I worked hard and made sure I was the best at everything.”

“Everyone likes a winner?” Joe quoted her words.

“Yeah, but I’m beginning to feel … different. If I was wrong, then Eve could be important to me. I don’t want to blow it. She’s not like me, whose life just stopped. She’s been out in the world.” She stopped, thinking about it. “And I think she’s been hurt and has scars. I don’t want to open wounds. She’d hate me.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Joe smiled. “But I’m surprised you’ve been able to sense that about her. Very perceptive, Beth.”

“Not really. I keep stumbling and making mistakes, but I believe I’m not wrong about Eve. Maybe there’s something about that family-bond thing.” She looked him directly in the eye. “So will you help me, Joe?”

He studied her for a long moment. “As long as you don’t demand any intimate details. I’m not comfortable about your idea of what’s personal.”

She gave a sigh of relief. “Okay, that would probably make me embarrassed anyway. It always did when my schoolmates described their sex with guys. I always wondered if some of the things they did weren’t made up. They would have had to be acrobats.”

“At that age, acrobatics are entirely possible. It gets more refined and satisfactory with time. Is that all? May I go now?”

She shook her head. “Billy. I didn’t know he was a Marine. I don’t really know anything about him. It was always all about me.”

“You were the prime objective. I’m certain Newell wasn’t offended.”

“But I should have asked. He made me talk about my life before I came to the hospital, and I never asked him any questions. How selfish could I be? He got me off those drugs. He saved my life, Joe.”

“There’s a good chance that’s true. But if you want to know all about Newell, you may have to ask him yourself. I can only give you the bare bones, and I think some of his dossier was probably doctored to keep Pierce from knowing that he was being investigated.”

“Then give me the bare bones. I’ll work it out from there.” She paused. “And I want to know about you, too, Joe. You’re important to Eve.” She frowned. “That didn’t sound right. It’s not that you’re not important in your own right. You seem to be a very formidable—”

“Enough.” He made a face. “I’m getting out of here before you add anyone else to the list.”

“I don’t know anyone else.”

“You did it again. You managed to disarm me just when I was becoming pissed off at you.” He started across the courtyard. “Go back to the library. I’ll face your interrogation after I expend some energy trying to track Drogan.”

Beth watched until he disappeared into the trees to the side of the courtyard before shutting the door. He was moving swiftly, and there was a sleek litheness to his carriage, a leashed eagerness.

A man on the hunt. No fear. No hesitation. He couldn’t wait to track down Drogan. He was a police detective, but there was no cool, analytical demeanor. She suddenly shivered as she realized that he appeared more deadly and dangerous than Drogan. She was learning more about him by watching him during these moments than she probably would by anything he would tell her. He would be like Eve and not be able or willing to share the view from the horizon. She would just have to put the pieces together and figure out how she could deal with them.

But that instant when she’d realized how dangerous Joe Quinn could be had disconcerted her. If he was deadly toward Drogan, could he also be a threat to Eve? How did Beth know who was bad or good? She had almost no practical experience, and there were so many dangers in this world.

She closed the door of the library and tucked herself in the leather chair in which Billy had been sitting. Her hand instinctively went to clasp the gold key at her throat. It always made her feel safe when she was most scared and confused. Rick had given the necklace to her on her sixteenth birthday and told her that she should wear it forever to remind her that he loved her.

She had been surprised that she’d still had it around her neck after the years on the sedatives. During the last few months, when she’d been totally drug-free, she’d noticed the nurses carefully put it back on her after they bathed her. Rick must have told them to do it. Which only proved that he still cared for her and had nothing to do with Pierce or that horrible Stella woman who had sometimes taken care of her.

But Eve and Joe had both been suspicious of Rick.

Forget it. Beth knew the truth about him. She would just have to explain and convince them of their mistake. Rick was the one good thing in that old life she could not do without. She had many changes she wanted to make in the way she lived her life. She wanted to reach out, instead of closing herself away from people.

She wanted to reach out to Eve.

One step at a time.

For the moment, she would sit there and wait for Joe Quinn to tell her how she could begin those steps.

*   *   *

DROGAN HAD BEEN IN THESE TREES.

Joe’s hunch about Drogan’s being in the long driveway of the house next door to the Tudor had paid off.

Joe knelt and shined his flashlight on the prints in the earth. One knee indentation, one foot bracing. Drogan had been kneeling there.

He would have had a good view of the courtyard from that spot.

Was he still around?

No car was parked in the trees. If there had been one there, he’d moved it.

Where?

Find out.

Fifteen minutes later, Joe found the car in the driveway of the third estate around the curve of the road. A red Lamborghini was in the driveway, but in the trees to the left was parked a tan Toyota rental car with plates from a dealer in Santa Barbara.

He glided forward. No one in the driver’s seat. Get inside the car and see if he could find any papers or evidence that would link—

The red Lamborghini roared to life and was barreling toward him!

A bullet creased Joe’s cheek, and the car clipped his hip as he jumped to the side.

Pain.

Ignore it. He drew his .38 and fired off a shot that smashed the sports car’s side mirror and ricocheted to hit Drogan’s hand on the steering wheel.

Joe heard a spate of curses, then a bullet struck the ground next to him. He rolled to the passenger side behind the protection of the Toyota.

But Drogan had already reached the road, and the sports car was screeching around the bend.

And the lights were coming on in the house behind him, dammit. The last thing Joe needed was to be found on the property and accused of being a car thief.

He got to his feet and limped into the trees. It wasn’t likely that they’d be searching for the man who had stolen that Lamborghini to be on foot. But he had to get back to the house before there was an uproar in the neighborhood. The owners would report the theft to the police, and they’d be out to intercept Drogan.

But Drogan wouldn’t risk being picked up. He’d abandon that car as soon as he could, and he no longer had his own rental to fall back on. Joe had come close to nailing the bastard, and he was mad as hell he’d blown it. But there were a few good results from a lousy evening. Drogan had a bullet in his hand, no car, and was in no position to go after Beth Avery at the moment.

And he’d bet that Drogan was going to be even more angry than Joe as he tried desperately to get away and cover his tracks.

*   *   *

HE WAS GOING TO KILL QUINN.

Drogan clutched the steering wheel while he tried to wrap his handkerchief around his bloody thumb with the other. He’d probably lose the thumb if he couldn’t get to a doctor in time. His teeth clenched as he tied the handkerchief above the wound.

Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch.

He had to get out of this car.

He couldn’t risk driving it any longer. This was a high-security area, and Highway Patrol would be breathing down his neck within minutes. The Lamborghini would be as noticeable as a flashing red light.

Get rid of the car.

Find some schmuck and force him to take him to a doctor.

Then find a way to get back here before Quinn took off with Beth Avery.

And find the most painful way on the face of the earth to kill the bastard. Destroy everything and everyone he cared about before his eyes, then take his time killing Quinn himself. Before it had been just a question of eliminating a cop who had gotten in his way, annoying but not particularly important.

But now it was very important. Now it was almost as important as killing Beth Avery.

And the woman who had been with Quinn at the house? He’d taken a photo of her earlier in the evening and been going to transmit it to Pierce for him to attempt an ID.

Do you sleep with her, Quinn?

Too bad. You’d better get used to sleeping alone for the little time you have left.

CHAPTER

12

BETH STRAIGHTENED UP IN HER CHAIR as Joe came into the library. “What happened to you?”

“Drogan.” He limped toward the TV and turned on the news station. “It’s the second time I screwed up and let him get away. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“You’re not perfect?” She glanced at the TV. “What are you trying to watch?”

“Drogan made off with a red Lamborghini. There’s bound to be a pursuit by the local police.” He began channel flipping. “With all these twenty-four/seven news stations, one of them should be covering it.” He leaned closer to the set. “There!”

He was looking at the shot of a red Lamborghini parked in the driveway of a substantial brick home. There was a crowd of police and media personnel swarming around it.

“Abandoned?” Beth asked.

“Yes, and it was out of Seventeen Mile Drive. That may be good for us.”

“How?”

“The search won’t be as extensive in this area.”

“There will be a search?”

“You bet your life. This area is pure money and political pull. They take care of their own.” He glanced at the location where the sports car had been found and typed it into his phone. “But they’ll grab the rental car that he left a few houses around the bend and check this area, too. Which means that we can’t move too soon. There will be an alert out and probably media on every corner for a night or two.”

“Will they search this house?”

“Not unless they think they have a reason. This house is supposed to be vacant and has a security guard checking it periodically. If we stay inside and keep a low profile, we’ll probably be okay until it’s safe to leave. In the meantime, I’ll locate another safe house for you.” He added grimly, “And do a little more-in-depth study about Drogan and the Averys.”

“Should we wake Eve and Billy?”

“Not until we have to. What good would it do? I ran upstairs and checked on her, and Eve had managed to drift off.”

“I’d want to know what was happening.”

“And so will Eve. But she can find out after she gets a little rest.” He frowned. “But Eve has my computer.”

“There’s one over there on the desk. Can you use it?”

He nodded. “I’d rather have my own, but I have the thumb drive.” He moved across the room and sat down at the desk. “If you’re going to curl up on that couch and go to sleep, do it. I can see by the screen, and I’m turning out the light.”

“Why? I told you that you can’t see through those drapes.”

“I’m not taking a chance. There will be intense, not casual scrutiny.” He took out the thumb drive. “But I want to get as much information as I can while we’re having to wait to get moving. I have an idea that Drogan is going to be moving at full speed from now on. I glimpsed his face after I put a bullet in his hand.”

“A bullet? You didn’t mention you shot him.” She was looking at the red streak on his cheek. “Was that caused by a bullet?”

“Yes.” He inserted the thumb drive. “And I only shot him, I didn’t kill him.”

“So it wasn’t worthwhile telling anyone. It wasn’t important.”

“It was important. It had the same effect as waving a red cape at a bull. And I didn’t follow through and put the bastard down.”

Violence, she thought with a shudder. Bullets and rage and Joe Quinn ready and willing to kill a man because he’d become involved in this hideous nightmare in which she’d become entangled.

“It’s too late, Beth,” Joe said quietly. He had looked up and seen her expression. “The game’s begun, and we all have to play by the rules.”

“I don’t understand games like this. But you like them, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “There’s a certain amount of excitement involved. I admit to having a few savage impulses. In time, you might discover you have a few yourself. You’re intensely competitive, and that’s a likely sign.” He smiled. “And you pulled a gun on Eve and Newell.”

“And it scared me to death.”

“The fear will go away, but the power remains. How do you feel right now? Are you angry with me?”

She was silent a moment. “I have no right to be angry. You could have been killed because of me. I should be grateful.”

“And are you?”

She was silent again. “Yes, but I don’t want you to do it again. I’d feel guilty that—”

“It’s my choice. Remember that, Beth. No guilt. People make choices.”

“Bullshit.”

He chuckled. “I don’t have time to argue with you now. Work it out for yourself.”

“I will.” She curled up on the leather couch and drew the throw over her. “But I’m tired of everyone’s risking their necks and treating me as if I were still sedated and almost comatose in that hospital. I’m going to help myself, Joe.”

“Fine.” He was pulling up records on the computer. “When something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

“You don’t mean that.” She turned on her side on the couch to look at him. “But I do. There’s so much I have to learn. I’m strong, but Drogan almost killed me that night at the hospital. You know all kinds of ways to fight people. Will you teach me?”

“If I have time,” he said, his gaze on the computer screen.

“Make time,” she said firmly. “I bet you taught Eve to protect herself. Well, she’s like you, she’s going to stay beside me and run risks no matter what I say. Wouldn’t it be better if I knew how to protect both of us?”

He lifted his gaze. “You’re very clever. You know exactly where to strike.”

“It’s easy. You love her. I don’t know much about feelings like that, but I know that you want her safe. You wouldn’t want me to die, but I don’t really matter to you. Not compared to what you feel for her. Will you teach me so that she has a better chance of surviving if she stays with me?”

He smiled. “As I said, clever. Yes, I’d do that if we didn’t have to move so fast.”

“It wouldn’t take much of your time to show me basics. I’ve always been a fast learner. And I’ll have to learn even faster now. I have so much time to make up.” She added quickly, “Don’t answer me now. I know you’ll do it if I pick the right time. I just thought I’d prepare you.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’ll let you tell me about Eve later, too.”

“Beth, go to sleep and let me work.”

She was silent a moment. “I’m annoying you.”

“Yes.”

“Why? Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“Because you’re half-child, half-sage, and you have the drive of a bulldozer. It’s a difficult combination for me to handle right now.”

“But I think you like me, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “And I’ve decided that I couldn’t go to bed with you after all even if Eve didn’t mind. Because I like you, too, and it would bother me if I thought I wasn’t measuring up to what you’d want me to be.”

“Well, I’m glad we’ve finally settled that problem,” Joe said solemnly. “Though I thought that subject was already closed.”

“You’re laughing at me. That’s all right. It might have been closed for you and Eve, but I have trouble letting go of anything.” She changed the subject. “I’m not going to be able to sleep. How can I help you? Don’t tell me no. Think about it.”

He thought about it. “Keep the TV low so that it won’t disturb me and monitor anything that might have to do with the theft of the Lamborghini or any police action in the area. Okay?”

“Okay.” She reached for the remote and propped herself up on the couch. “I won’t bother you any longer unless I see something you should know about.”

“Excellent.”

She didn’t speak for a few minutes, then whispered, “I’m sorry he hurt you, Joe.”

Joe didn’t answer. He was frowning intently, and she didn’t know if he heard her. And he might not care how she felt. Everything he did for Beth was because Eve wanted it to be done. What would it be like to have someone love you that much? She felt a sudden pang of loneliness that she instantly dismissed as soon as she identified it. She had been alone all her life, and she wasn’t going to whine about it. Now that she was free, she was going to have a wonderful life and love and friendship might even be a part of it. She was difficult and obstinate, and it was hard for her to reach out. But maybe that could be overcome.

If she was lucky, if she didn’t annoy everyone as much as she did Joe …

*   *   *

THE GREEN NEON SIGN of the Immediate Care Medical Clinic blazed in the darkness.

TWENTY-FOUR HOUR SERVICE.

There were only two cars in the parking lot, Drogan noticed. That was good. They probably belonged to staff, and he wouldn’t be forced to push ahead of any other patients and cause a disturbance. He had to be very unobtrusive until he got this damn wound treated.

“It’s okay, pull in,” he told the woman driving the car. What was her name? Hester something. Kippling, that was it. “Do you remember what you’re supposed to do?”

Hester Kippling nodded jerkily. “I’ll do whatever you say. Anything. Please don’t hurt me.” She parked the car in front of the building and shut off the engine. Her voice was strained as she tried to control herself. “I won’t tell the police anything. Just let me go home to my granddaughter. Tiffany’s only four years old. You can’t be sure that she can breathe through that gag you stuffed in her mouth.”

“Then you’d better get home to her right away before she suffocates. But it’s more likely that you’ll end up dead than the kid if you don’t do exactly as I say. You wouldn’t want her to end up an orphan.” He tucked his gun back into his jacket and got out of the car. “I’ll be watching you. One glance, one twitch of an eyebrow that tips off that doctor, and you’re dead. Now get out and act like a loving wife who’s so worried about me that you’re shaking and about to collapse.” He laughed. “It shouldn’t be difficult. All you need to do is think about this gun in my pocket and the fact that if you cause trouble, I’ll go back to your house and blow the kid’s head off.”

Hester Kippling. “No trouble. I promise.” She hurried toward the front entrance. “Just don’t hurt me or Tiffany. We didn’t do anything to you.”

No, and he probably wouldn’t do anything to Tiffany Kippling. He didn’t have time to go back and deal with the woman’s granddaughter. He didn’t like leaving witnesses, but a child wasn’t really believable in a court of law. He had made sure she was terrified before he’d bound and gagged her. She wouldn’t be able to even look at him without becoming hysterical. It was marginally safe leaving her alive.

And not at all safe permitting Hester Kippling to survive this night.

“Would I hurt that sweet little girl?” He opened the heavy glass doors and added softly, “Only if you force me, Hester, and I know you wouldn’t do that.”

*   *   *

IT WAS OVER FOUR HOURS LATER that Beth suddenly straightened on the couch. “I think this may be what you were talking about, Joe. It all connects.”

Joe turned to look at her. “What connects?”

“Drogan.” She pointed to the TV screen that showed an EMT van and several policemen milling around an Immediate Care Medical Clinic parking lot. “Triple murder. A middle-aged woman, Hester Kippling, a Dr. Dan Thomas, and Lynn Smith his nurse. Thomas and the nurse were on duty at this clinic about forty miles from here. Hester Kippling accompanied her supposed husband into the facility and insisted on staying with him through the treatment.” She glanced at Joe. “He had a hand injury. His entire right hand was bandaged.”

He nodded. “Drogan.”

“Dr. Thomas evidently performed the necessary surgery. But the doctor, nurse, and Hester Kippling were found dead a few hours later by another nurse who had come in at a shift change. Shot to death. There were video cameras in the reception area but none in the examining room. No clear photos of the killer. He managed to stay out of view.” She looked at Joe. “But it has to be Drogan, doesn’t it?”

He nodded. “Otherwise, it’s entirely too coincidental.” He smiled. “Good job, Beth.”

She shivered. “Nothing good about it. Three people dead because of me. It could have been even worse. They found a little girl tied up but alive at the Kippling house.” Her lips firmed. “But I won’t think like that. I have to keep telling myself that I’m not guilty. It’s Drogan. It’s all because of Drogan.”

“That’s right.”

“But he has to be stopped, Joe. Did you find anything else about him?”

“His photo.” He pulled up Drogan’s photo on his phone to reveal dark hair, olive skin, and large brown eyes set in a narrow face. “He may not look quite the same. This was taken years ago. And I found out a few other things. I tapped the FBI database and found out that Drogan is the pseudonym of an ex–Army Ranger who was kicked out of the service after a friendly-fire incident that killed his commanding officer and was suspected of being far from friendly. His name is Carl Saglet, age forty-three, born in New Orleans. His mother, Zela Saglet, was a prostitute who was heavily into drugs and belonged to a voodoo cult that had monthly ceremonies at an abandoned plantation outside the city. There’s no doubt that Drogan attended those ceremonies. He bragged about it at his school, and the welfare workers tried three times to take him away from his mother for child endangerment. But the police couldn’t prove that there was anything criminal taking place at the ceremonies.” He shook his head. “But years later they discovered a small graveyard near the swamp, in which seven bodies were buried. They couldn’t identify all of them, but they were able to trace two who were known homeless vagrants on Bourbon Street.” He paused. “And Drogan’s mother, Zela. She was found in a makeshift coffin with the skeleton of a large water moccasin wrapped around her throat.”

“Drogan?” Beth whispered.

“Probably. The FBI had records of three suspected kills years later with the same M.O.”

“Suspected? Why haven’t they been able to arrest him?”

“He’s very careful, very smart. He became a contract killer a few years after he got out of the service, and he’s been moving around the world and gaining a reputation for himself. He worked for the Italian Mafia for a while, then moved to Mexico. But he didn’t do well down there; the drug cartels don’t have any use for either caution or subtlety. They just hang their victim’s heads on bridges as warnings. So the last word on him was that he’d moved to somewhere outside L.A. and was taking lucrative assignments from his base there.”

“And Pierce found someone who put him in touch with Drogan?”

“It’s logical. If he didn’t want to get his hands dirty killing you himself.”

“Why, dammit?” Beth asked. “Was I just in his way?”

“Not in his way,” Joe said. “I imagine that Pierce would have been happy to continue with the arrangement for the foreseeable future. Why not? He was being paid a handsome fee, and you were no trouble.”

“No trouble,” Beth repeated bitterly. “I was like one of the zombies at Drogan’s voodoo ceremonies. No wonder Pierce felt comfortable hiring him. It was entirely fitting, wasn’t it?”

“Until you woke up. No one could call you a zombie now.”

“No, I’m not,” she said fiercely. “And I’ll never be that way again. I won’t let Drogan kill me or Pierce put me back in that stupor. I’ll kill them first.”

“Easy,” Joe said. “There’s no question of that’s happening. We just have to work on catching Drogan so that we can get him to testify against Pierce.” He paused. “And anyone else who’s involved.”

“Not Rick. It wasn’t Rick. And I never met my grandmother or grandfather Avery but there’s no reason for them to want to hurt me. Why would they do that?”

“Maybe they don’t want to hurt you. But they paid the bills for your stay at the hospital. Now, since we suspect that you should never have been there in the first place, wouldn’t it be smart to dig a little deeper?”

She reached up and touched the golden key at her throat. “Maybe Pierce lied to them and said that I had an injury that was incurable. Maybe it wasn’t their fault at all.”