by Jenna Ryan
“Not yet,” Nolan said when Kate reached for the light switch. He had an arm snugged tight under her breasts. Her spine was pressed to his chest and, God help her, her heart was beginning to lose its rhythm.
Several tense seconds ticked by. The room felt hot. Was that possible in a morgue? It was Nolan’s fault, Kate decided. The heat that couldn’t possibly be here, her jittery reaction to him, the fact that he hadn’t released his grip even though the attendants had probably smoked their cigarettes down to the filter by now.
“Two more minutes,” Nolan told her. “The elevator’s going back up.”
When he spoke, his lips brushed her cheek and drew a shiver from her. Kate felt his mouth twitch against her skin. “Interesting response.”
“It’s freezing down here.” She made a subtle attempt to tug free. “And damp.”
“It’s climate controlled, Kate. The cave was colder by ten degrees.”
“We’re in the morgue and there are dead people behind door number two. It’s—wrong.”
“Doesn’t feel wrong to me.”
“Stop it, Nolan,” she ordered as he pushed her hair aside and began nuzzling her neck. “We’re not—this isn’t why we—oh, to hell with it.”
Twisting around, she grabbed the sides of his jacket and yanked his mouth onto hers.
Heat shot like a streak of lightning straight to the pit of her stomach. It was always the same. A quick punch that stole her breath then slammed into her midsection like a fiery blast of adrenaline.
His tongue plundered every part of her mouth. Kate felt movement, a dizzying whip of motion, and suddenly her back was crushed to the wall and he was holding her in place with his hips.
Bracing his hands on either side of her head, he dragged his lips from hers. “Push me away, Kate.” She heard the dangerous bite in his tone and saw the glitter of desire in his eyes. “I don’t want this to happen, and neither should you.”
“I don’t.” But she pulled his mouth back onto hers and plunged in.
It was a high dive from a high wire with no safety net to break the fall. Her hands roamed along his sides to the front of his jeans. She wanted to arch herself into him, to feel the hard muscles of his lower body pulsing against her, into her, through her.
The heat came in flashes now like wicked knife thrusts that made her breath hitch and her mind go blank.
He captured her face with his fingers and let his thumbs graze the skin below her cheekbones.
“I’ll hurt you, Kate,” he warned. “Let me anywhere near your heart, and I’ll break it.”
She rubbed her hips very deliberately against him. “Your mouth’s saying one thing, Nolan, but I’m getting a very different message from your body.”
“Check the parts, kid. I’m a guy. Body’s generally willing and eager. Brain’s another story.” And slapping his palms to the wall, he shoved roughly away from her.
The line of blue night lights that ran the length of the room revealed a glint of something—regret, resentment?—in his eyes as he swiped the side of his hand under his bottom lip. Kate put his shadowed expression somewhere between accusing and wary. Which would have annoyed her if her head and senses hadn’t been spinning out of sync.
“All right,” she finally allowed. “We’ll agree that wasn’t good.”
“It was good, Kate.”
“Not smart then.” She struggled for a measure of composure. “You, me, here, now. And I don’t even want to think about that corpse in the hall.”
“I don’t want to think about us joining him. Are we cool?”
She flicked on the overheads. “We’re back in the real world anyway.” Back and really cold, she thought, rubbing her suddenly chilled arms. She took a moment to sigh then locked any new and strange feelings for Nolan away and glanced around. “I can’t say I like being here when I remember what Tallulah said about finding her. She vanished, and we’re in the morgue. Am I supposed to go through cold storage looking for her?”
Nolan shot her a final wary look before setting his hands on her shoulders and turning her toward the door he’d cracked open. “Computer check’s better. We’re clear. Head for the stairs.”
The more her system settled, the more apprehension crept in. Everything in the world Kate thought she’d known had been flipped on its head these past few days. And all, or mostly all, because she’d operated on a woman named Phoebe Lessard.
She tapped Nolan’s arm while they ascended the shadowy staircase. “Do you have a destination in mind? Everywhere I can think of will either be locked or have people in it.”
He looked up. “Do you know Jane in Accounting?”
“Heard of her. No idea where her office is.”
“She requisitioned a room in the attic.” He scanned the high rafters. “A little more light would be helpful.” Reaching back he took her hand firmly in his. “No dragging your feet, Kate. Not every attic has bats. Listen for doors, and trust me when I tell you the last thing I want to do is cause you to freak out.”
“I’m glad to hear it….” She stopped and blinked when they reached the third floor landing. “I can see her, Nolan, in my head. Tallulah’s in the west wing. Palliative Care.”
“Kate, the lights are flickering.”
“It’s an old building.”
“The wiring’s new.”
“Blame the fog then. It doesn’t matter.” She fought for patience. “Our emergency backups have backups. We need to find Tallulah.”
“We need to do what we came to do. Otherwise Tallulah’s warnings are just so much crap.”
“She used the word imperative.” Kate resisted his pull. “The rooms in Palliative Care are all private. We owe it to her to do what she asked.”
He stared at her long and hard before making a growling sound in his throat and heading for the stairwell door. “We’ll detour, but keep moving. My gut tells me this place is crawling with people we don’t want to meet.”
“Crucible’s people or Leshad’s?”
“Six of one, kid.”
She smiled. “Tell me, do you look on the bright side of any situation, ever?”
“Not if I can help it. Ask me why when this nightmare’s far behind us.” He brought her with him into a dimly lit corridor. “Left or right?”
Kate thought for a moment but got nothing. Praying her grandfather’s genes were up to the challenge, she opened her mind to whatever might want in.
The words “Go right” shot through her head and made her blink. The voice had been Tallulah’s. She gestured. “We need to follow the red stripe. I hope.”
“At least we’re moving away from the nurses station.” Nolan glanced at the desk before lifting his gaze to the security cameras. “Those could be a problem if anyone’s paying attention.”
“Harry would be. Earl, not so much. I don’t know who’s working tonight.”
They checked twenty rooms and avoided at least that many nurses, care attendants and cleaners before Kate pushed on a partly open door and spotted her. More correctly, she spied a tattooed hand lying motionless on a blanket.
“I’ve got your back,” Nolan told her.
Slipping inside, Kate plucked the chart from the bottom of Tallulah’s bed. A full page of medical jargon boiled down to a simple grim prognosis. Tallulah had suffered a major trauma to her brain. She wasn’t expected to survive.
After checking the admission date, Kate closed the file, and returning it to the hook, went to sit on the side of the bed.
Nothing about the woman’s features surprised her. In fact, she could have visualized them sight unseen. She picked up the tattooed hand, brushed gently at stray wisps of white hair and said softly, “A lot of people would be dead if you hadn’t come to me the night the apartment building blew up. I still don’t understand what’s going on or why, but I promise you, if—no, when—we catch the killer that connects us, I’ll make sure Crucible knows the whole story.”
“That story is far from finished, Kate Marshall.”
Although she hadn’t moved or shown any sign of life beyond the shallow rise and fall of her chest, Tallulah’s voice whispered inside Kate’s head. “You must go back to the time three nights after the surgery.”
She’d stay calm, Kate promised herself, and listen. Think. “Back to the night Phoebe Lessard disappeared?” Like there was any other night worth remembering right now. She squeezed the old woman’s hand. “What about that night, Tallulah?”
“Your brain moves in detailed steps when you perform a surgical procedure. Let it move the same way from the beginning of that night to the end. I see a face.” Her words began to overlap and fade. “I see two faces deep inside….”
“Don’t do this, Tallulah.” Kate shook her hand now. “Can you see the faces in my mind? If you can, can you tell me where I saw them?”
Yet even as she spoke, she knew the answer wouldn’t come. Not from the woman in the bed anyway.
When the chest beneath the blanket fell for the last time, Kate traced the blood orchid with her thumb, held her unmoving hand for a moment longer then laid it on the covers. Bending, she kissed the woman’s cheek. “Rest in peace, Tallulah Black. You deserve it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Nolan didn’t hear them coming. One minute he was alone, the next, a nurse he recognized and an orderly he’d never met were turning the corner ahead of him. The nurse’s eyes lit up and the orderly’s mouth stretched flat.
“Dr. Nolan!” The nurse rushed forward. “I heard you’d left the city on a family emergency. I’m so glad that’s not true.”
Who was she? Heidi? Haley? Nolan drew a blank, and the turquoise sweater she wore hid her badge. But everyone knew he was crap with names, right?
He eased the door to Tallulah’s room closed. “I am on an emergency leave,” he said. “I just needed to check on a patient.” His attention shifted to the unsmiling orderly. “Are you new here?”
The man shuffled his feet while the nurse patted his arm and barrelled on. “I dragged Duncan up from Acute Care. Someone vomited in the lounge. You know how it is, Doctor. I didn’t realize you had patients in Palliative.”
“I have patients everywhere. Listen, Hannah, I’m not here in an official capacity, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention seeing me to anyone.”
“It’s Holly, and I won’t.” She blushed. “But it’s awfully nice bumping into you.”
“You, too.” Why the hell, he wondered, was Duncan staring at him as though he were Hannibal Lecter looking for someone to snack on? Nolan gave them fifteen seconds to turn the next corner before he used his boot heel to open Tallulah’s door. “We’re busted, Kate. Two people know I’m here.”
“Heard them.” Slipping out, she closed the door. “I rang the nurses station.”
He drew her toward the stairwell. “Gone?”
“She died while I was there. I touched her hand, Nolan. The second I did, I heard her talking in my head. She told me to remember everything I’d seen the night Phoebe Lessard disappeared.”
“The only thing I remember about that night is one hell of a storm and working on a pair of twenty-somethings who thought their car had outboard capabilities.” Up or down, he debated then swore as a stocky male attendant bounded into sight from above. The guy shot them a quick smile and continued his descent.
“Did you recognize him?” Nolan asked.
“Not sure. Maybe. I’m usually good with faces, but at the moment, they’re all running together.” She snagged his sleeve. “Do we have to use Jane’s office, or would Dr. Morrison’s do?”
“Whose is closer?”
“Morrison’s is next to the fire door on two. Leshad isn’t the only person who’s phobic. Dr. M. required escape routes. By the way, who were you talking to in the hall? I only heard the hum of a female voice.”
“She said her name was Holly.”
“What?” Alarmed, Kate clutched both of his arms. “Not Holly Wallace.”
“How the hell should I know? Holly with red hair, freckles and lousy taste in sweaters.”
“We need to go.” Kate swung her head as if she expected half the hospital staff to magically materialize in the stairwell. “Holly’s a notorious motormouth. Sweet, but there are no secrets in her world. And unfortunately, Dr. Nolan, you’re considered über hot in nursing circles.”
“Too late.” He set a hand on her stomach to keep her from knocking him down the stairs. “I know that off-key whistle. It’s Dr. Brown.”
“Jumping out the nearest window now.”
Her obvious frustration made him chuckle. Kate laid her forehead on the back of his jacket while Nolan prepped for a rubber-gloved handshake. Talk about phobias.
“Well, will you look at this?” Brown, first name forgotten, gave him a shoulder punch rather than offering his blue-coated hand. “What big jungle cat dragged you in?”
Nolan felt Kate ram her balled fists into his spine. “I’m not here, Brown, okay?” He sidestepped when the man attempted to peer past him. “Got a thing happening. Family emergency. I was just doing a quick check-in.”
“Kate?” Adjusting his glasses, Brown bobbed like a boxer to try and see her. “Is that you back there?”
“Note the combat boots and surgical gloves,” Kate whispered. But she slipped around Nolan’s arm and actually managed to beam at her surgical counterpart. “Hi. Yes, we’re together, but no, I’m not the emergency. We’re in kind of a hurry, though, so if you’ll—oh, damn,” she finished softly.
A head appeared below them. “Busy stairs,” Nolan remarked. He reached for Kate and would have drawn her past Brown, except the head transformed into a large orderly whose bulk blocked their escape. To his credit, the orderly backed up, but that made two men whose faces Nolan hadn’t recognized, and neither one of them had been friendly.
“I’m sorry about your sister, Kate,” Brown called in their wake.
“Thanks, Steven. Whatever you’re talking about.” Crucible’s note to the hospital administrator, she supposed. She pushed on Nolan’s arm and hissed, “The orderly’s making a phone call. Go.”
They exited the stairwell on three again and jogged through the maze of corridors toward the large rear elevators.
Nolan looked up when the lights bobbled. “Be nice if they’d go dark for a few minutes.”
Kate did a shoulder check. “We can lose them—if there is a them—in the cellar, right?”
“Yup. Assuming we make it there.”
They took another corner just as a cleaner emerged from one of the private rooms. Kate crashed into him. Nolan barely pulled up in time to keep from slamming into her. Unbalanced, the cleaner stumbled across the hall through a second door. When it flew open, a man in black pants and a long black coat spun to face them.
“Oh, my God, it’s toy boy,” Kate exclaimed. “New goth toy boy.”
Which was bad enough in Nolan’s opinion. But then goth guy moved, and Anna Perradine, who’d been reclining in the bed, let out an ear-piercing shriek. She flailed the arm not encased in a large white cast.
Kate stared in surprise. “You have a black eye.”
“Stop her,” Anna shouted. She launched a pillow at her playmate. “Kate Marshall’s the bitch who killed Frankie. She knew I was going to file a lawsuit against her, so she ran and hid. You get her, Troy, or don’t come back here!”
New toy boy stood there shocked, but only for a moment. Then his features hardened and he headed for the door.
If the damn lights wouldn’t die on their own, Nolan reflected grimly, he’d kill them himself.
Every floor had its own electrical panel. The panels were located near the emergency elevators. If his memory of the hospital layout was accurate, reaching the junction boxes was doable.
Kate started to turn right at the next corner. Nolan grabbed her. “Change of plan. This way.”
“But we’ll be backtracking.”
“I know. Do you still have your flashlight?”
“It’s hooked to my belt.” She narrow
ly avoided a collision with an RN.
“Kate?” Steadying herself, the woman called after them, “Kate?”
Kate turned, jogging backward. “Tell anyone who asks that you saw us heading for the central elevators.”
“Will she do it?” Nolan slowed as they approached the electrical room.
“Probably, but they won’t believe her. Would you?” she demanded when he frowned. “I mean, really, how many sneak thieves would use a main source of egress? What I’m hoping is that Anna’s new toy boy won’t be inclined to give chase, the orderly in the stairwell was only calling a friend and any truly interested parties will be so confused by now, they won’t know where to look for us.”
Nolan located the box, opened it and began flipping breakers. “Done. I left the emergency elevators operational. We’ll take both of them to the cellar and use the Off switches to hold them there.”
The idea worked in theory. It seemed to work in practice, too. They made it past the corpse in the corridor and on to the storeroom where the shadows hung dark and dense.
Something’s here, Nolan thought, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“The skin on my neck’s tingling,” Kate said as they ventured inside. “I hate when that happens.”
Nolan made a visual circle. “Tallulah’d call it your sixth sense and probably advise you to stop and listen. I’d agree with her if our window of opportunity for escape wasn’t so small. Let’s go.”
They were five feet from the opening when he heard the telltale click. Cursing, he checked on Kate’s position, halted with her behind him and turned.
Not three feet away, he spotted the unmistakable outline of a Glock. It was aimed right at his head.
* * *
“Don’t move, Nolan. Don’t reach for that gun I know you’re carrying. And for all our sakes, don’t try anything heroic.”
“Miranda?” Kate didn’t know whether to be relieved or doubly terrified. She scanned the surrounding shadows. “Is anyone with you?”
