jumps up like his pants are on fire. They go into a big hug-hug-kiss-best-buddy reunion before he hustles her away. Next thing I know, I can’t get in to see Adam because she’s in there.”
Mystified, Risa asked, “Who is she?”
“That’s just it, none of us know. Well, Paulie obviously does, but you know what it’s like getting information about Adam from him, under any circumstances. He’s in full mamabear mode. And he’s not saying a word.”
A sudden thought struck her. “Adam hasn’t taken a turn for the worse, has he?” Anxiety reared. She’d been splitting her time between here and her mom’s room. Logically she knew someone would have contacted her if he had. But emotions weren’t logical.
“His condition remains unchanged. That’s a quote from the doctor, and she was just by about fifteen minutes ago.” Seamlessly she shifted subjects. “How’s your mom? And what’s this I hear about you shooting a window last night?”
Risa gave a helpless laugh. “She’s fine. And the other’s a long story.”
“You had a narrow escape, I hear.” Ramsey looked across the hall again. There was no activity so she returned her speculative gaze to her friend. “Glad to hear it. Gladder yet to hear that you used your weapon.”
They exchanged a look. Ramsey was the one who’d turned in Risa’s weapon and resignation. The only one that Risa would have trusted to face their intimidating boss with that kind of unwelcome news.
Her gaze slid away. “My palms sweat every time I touch it,” she admitted softly. “And I didn’t even think of drawing it last night when Raiker was shot. What’s that say about me? That I can only put the fear behind me when it’s my neck on the line?”
“Maybe it says you’re healing.” Ramsey had a way of making things sound clear-cut when they seemed anything but. “And it was your mother’s life on the line, too, the way I heard it. As for Adam, why the hell would you have gone after the shooter when his driver was so much closer? Maybe it’s me, but I’m thinking when he wakes up he might be a bit more grateful that you kept him alive rather than chase down Jennings.”
The words made Risa feel a modicum better, even while she still doubted their truth. “Knowing Adam, I wouldn’t be so sure. He was pretty pissed about that bomb destroying his townhouse.”
There was activity across the hall then, and the two of them went silent at the same time Dev Stryker ambled up carefully carrying a tray of coffees. “Risa, you’re lookin’ lovely as ever. No ill effects from last night?”
Ramsey shushed him and his brows shot up. Risa took a coffee from the tray and nodded toward the couple coming out of Adam’s room. Paulie had his arm around a woman with shoulder-length mink-colored hair, and they were speaking in hushed tones as they walked by the trio watching them.
Although she looked closely, Risa could see little of the woman’s features. Even so, when Ramsey gave her a quizzical look, she shook her head. She didn’t recognize her either.
A tall blond man who looked like he could have wandered in on his way to a casting call greeted the duo at the end of the hallway. The three stopped and talked, and it looked like they all knew each other.
“Who is she?” Ramsey muttered as she took a coffee from the tray Dev balanced.
“Who, the woman?” Dev took a sip from the last cup while shoving the empty tray in a nearby trash container. “Her name’s Jaid Marlowe.”
Risa and Ramsey’s attention snapped to him. “How do you know that?” his wife demanded.
“Saw her in the cafeteria earlier. She actually ran into me and made me dump the first tray of coffees I’d bought. Real nice lady. I bought her one to calm her nerves, and we introduced ourselves. Don’t think she drank much of it, though. She seemed pretty upset.”
“Upset.” Ramsey had returned her gaze to the trio down the hallway. “So wonder what Pretty Boy’s story is.”
“Unless you’re talkin’ about me—and as a newlywed you really should be—he’s probably an FBI agent. That’s how Jaid knew Adam. They were in the bureau together.” This time he took their open-mouthed reactions as his due. “It’s the southern charm, ladies. People open up to me.”
Ramsey eyed him coolly over the top of her cup as she drank. “I may mold you into an investigator yet, Stryker.”