Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) - Karen Rose Page 0,211

still didn’t know why his father had joined Pastor and the others. The same was true for Coleen.

“Have you? Killed someone, I mean?” he asked. “Answer me, Sister Coleen.”

She went rigid. “Not your concern.”

She has. How fascinating. “Then you have no room to talk. Has Pastor seen the news?”

“No. I’m trying to keep him from getting upset. Which is why you can’t stay here. He left his room for the first time today. He got to go to the solarium, where the other patients gather. If someone sees you, they might mention the news, and he’ll know. His health is very precarious.”

Hell, that was the first good news he’d had all day. Not that Pastor was leaving his room, but that his survival was iffy. DJ could do a lot with iffy.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” he promised to shut her up. He’d leave when he was ready and not before.

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

TUESDAY, MAY 30, 6:30 A.M.

“Mr. Saltrick,” Nurse Innes said, “this is our newest employee, Miss Barkley. She’s a nursing assistant and will be working pediatrics.”

Liza smiled at the big man, but inside she was nervous. This was the guy whose computer Tom was trying to break into. “It’s good to meet you, sir.”

“You’re the combat medic.”

“Former, sir. I was honorably discharged.”

“Well, thank you for your service. If you’ll stand here, I’ll take the photo for your badge.”

Liza stood where he pointed and smiled when he said to. Three minutes later, she had her own entry badge.

“Wear this whenever you’re on the property,” he ordered. “Anyone not wearing a badge, especially new employees, will be considered hostile and dealt with accordingly.”

“I understand,” Liza said, thinking about Rafe hiding out in the SUV she’d ridden in this morning. Tom had woken her early and made love to her tenderly, and then they had left the Sokolovs’ house with Liza and Rafe hunkered down on the floorboards in the back.

Just like she’d done the Wednesday before when Agent Rodriguez had gotten them out of the eye doctor’s office.

Tom’s hands had shaken when he’d said goodbye in the parking garage beneath Karl’s apartment. His parting kiss had been hard and desperate and afraid, his “I love you” hoarse and broken. But he’d let her go without complaint, and for that she loved him even more.

Rafe had hidden in the very back of the SUV, where he’d stay until she needed him.

She worried about him. It was going to get up into the high nineties today, but Rafe had assured her that he’d done surveillance in black vehicles on hotter days than this. She’d left the windows cracked, and he had plenty of water and a battery-operated fan. The dark windows would block some of the sun’s rays. She’d have to trust that he could keep himself safe.

She sat through a short security and privacy briefing during which she signed a number of forms, including an NDA. Afterward, she was instructed to follow Nurse Innes. “Come along, Miss Barkley,” she said briskly. “I’ll give you your tour and then introduce you to your patient.”

Liza put on her special James Bond camera-fitted glasses and set off beside Nurse Innes.

The older woman eyed the hot pink rhinestone glasses with amusement. “Nobody will miss you in glasses like those,” she said.

“A little girl in the eyeglass store helped me pick them out. I hope my patient will like them.”

“I’m sure she will. Brooklyn loves bright colors.”

The tour was short. Liza was shown the locker room and given a locker in which she stored her belongings, which had been carefully screened by Rafe and Tom. Rafe had been undercover for several years and had a good eye for anything that might give her away.

From the locker room they went to the break room and the gym. “You can use any of the equipment as long as you’re off duty and none of the patients or their families ask to use it.”

The supply closet was very well stocked. “We have everything a hospital has and, in some cases, more,” Innes said. “Your patient will be undergoing chemotherapy next week. You’ll be transporting her to and from treatments. Your supervising nurse will show you where.”

“Miss Sinclair mentioned that the child is terminal when I had my interview. Is this correct?”

Innes frowned. “Did she explicitly say that?”

Liza had to think. “No. She asked if I could deal if the child was terminal. I assumed.”

“That’s good,” Innes said, clearly relieved. “Brooklyn is not terminal, but her leukemia is advanced. She’s responding well to treatments,