the doors to this floor are locked. She’s most likely wandered into another patient’s room and—”
“I understand, Doctor. She’s not a child. She can leave her room if she wants, but she’s been spiking a fever and I’m concerned she could fall and reopen the wound.”
“Of course, of course. Where’s her father?”
“At the end of the hall on a phone call. I don’t think he’s aware Sarah’s gone AWOL.”
Dr. Kilgore released a short chuckle with no humor. “I’d like to keep it that way, but I suppose we need to tell the man.”
“I’ll stay here in case she comes back,” Gavin said. “Why don’t you see if anyone else has located her?”
“Good idea.”
The doctor slipped out of the room and Gavin raked a hand over his head. “Where are you, Sarah?” he whispered. “What are you doing?” He paced her room from one end to the other while he checked his phone. Nothing. Not a call nor a text. He stilled. Did she even have a phone? Probably not.
He stepped out into the hallway once more. Looked left, then right. And thought he saw a sock-encased foot peek out of the room next door before pulling back inside. He hurried the few steps to the entrance to find Sarah leaning against the wall, her face pale except for the bright flush to her cheeks. “Sarah!”
She swayed and he caught her against his chest. She blinked up at him. Focused. “Gavin,” she said. “Thank goodness.”
“What are you doing in here? Are you okay?”
“No, get me back to my room, please.” She tugged the belt of the robe tighter. “Hurry.”
“You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
“I promise I’m trying to get back in it.” She pushed away from him and took two wobbly steps.
Gavin gripped her arm, concerned when she leaned heavily against him. “Sarah . . .”
“Don’t let them know I was in here,” she whispered.
“Who?”
“Dr. Kilgore.” She swallowed and panted. “She’s in trouble,” she said, her voice low and weak. “They’ve done something to her.”
“Who?”
“She begged me for help. But now she’s not there. Need . . . to find . . . her, but I think I’m going to pass out.” Her last word ended on a whisper just a split second before she slumped. He caught her before she hit the floor and lifted her into his arms. Not seeing anyone at the nurses’ station or in the hallway, Gavin scurried back to her bed to deposit her gently on the sheets. She groaned and he noted the heat radiating from her.
“What’s going on?”
Gavin looked up to find the general in the doorway with a frown on his face. “I’m not sure, sir.” Well, that was the truth. “She said someone needed help.”
“Who?”
“Beats me. She passed out before she got that far. She’s definitely got a fever again.”
“I’ll get the nurse.”
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Lewis Denning walked into the café like he did every morning he was in town and found the table he paid to have reserved, whether he showed up or not. With his back to the wall and an unobstructed view of the entrance—and his two discreet bodyguards whom he tolerated—he picked up the cup and took a sip of the coffee made just the way he liked it.
He’d been coming here for five years and had gotten to know every server who worked in the place—unless there was someone new. And even then, it didn’t take him long to train them in his preferences—they knew exactly how and when to serve his coffee.
The second cup remained empty and would be filled the instant the man he was meeting walked through the door.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than his friend, former unit member, and fraternity brother stepped into the restaurant. Lewis lifted his chin by way of greeting and Marshall McClain nodded in return.
Just as Marshall was halfway to the table, the young waitress stepped up and poured steaming coffee into the empty cup, then set three sugars and two creams on the table next to the saucer.
“Thank you, Jenny,” Lewis said.
“Of course. I’ll be back to take your order in a few minutes.”
“You know what I want.”
“Sure thing. I’ll have Zoe start cooking it.”
“You’re a keeper.”
She smiled and walked away, stopping to refill cups as Marshall took the seat opposite him.
His friend fixed his coffee and Lewis blew out a low breath.
Marshall glanced up. “How are you doing? Really.”
“I’m not going to lie. It’s tough.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lewis narrowed his eyes. “You don’t look so great either. What’s