“Don’t leave me,” Newell whispered. “Stay with me at the emergency room until I get out of surgery. Don’t let them check me into the hospital. Too easy. Doctors … Nurses…”
“Shut up, Jessie,” Jensen said as he got to his feet as four EMTs poured into the room. “The police will find that scumbag. Nothing’s going to happen to you now. We’ll take good care of you.”
Newell’s gaze clung to Eve’s. “Don’t leave me.”
Eve nodded as Joe reached down and helped her to her feet. “Don’t worry, I’ll hardly let you out of my sight.” She added grimly, “We’re going to talk.”
“Soon,” he said, as they carried him out of the apartment. “It doesn’t matter that I didn’t tell him. He’ll find her…”
“Which hospital?” Joe asked Dr. Jensen as the intern hurried after the EMTs.
“Santa Barbara General.” He tossed back over his shoulder, “Did I hear that you’re a police detective? You’d better contact your headquarters. This has to be reported.”
“Yes, it does.” He took Eve’s elbow and nudged her toward the door as Jensen left the apartment. He added in a low voice to Eve, “But not before we get a chance to talk to Newell.”
“He told me that the name of the man who cut him is Drogan. While we’re waiting for word on Newell, can you run a check and see if you can find anything about him on the database?”
“You bet I will. Drogan…”
* * *
DROGAN’S FOOT PRESSED HARD on the accelerator, then lifted the pressure. He mustn’t be caught speeding. That would be the stupidest thing he could do. It would be the crowning blow to a totally frustrating night.
Not that he hadn’t enjoyed making the son of a bitch hurt. But Newell had been stubborn, and Drogan hadn’t been able to squeeze the information about Beth Avery out of him before that detective Joe Quinn had broken into the apartment. It had to be Quinn. Pierce’s description of the cop matched, and who else would be snooping around the hospital personnel?
Why the hell couldn’t Pierce have managed to throw Quinn off the track? It was just one more example of the doctor’s pitiful inadequacy and another wall for Drogan to overcome. The anger was searing through him, and he had to get a grip on himself so he could think clearly. He took a deep breath and tried to relax.
It was going to be all right. He had lost Newell as a source of information, but he had something else that might give him what he needed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cell phone he had taken from Newell.
Phones were magical instruments, and Drogan knew just how to pull that magic into the real world. First, go the simple route. Check and see just what calls Newell had received lately. Then check them all out until he hit pay dirt. Identify, locate the target, then execute.
But he had to hurry. He wasn’t sure that he’d managed to kill Newell, and he couldn’t chance him calling and warning the woman.
He pulled over to the side of the road and began to go through Newell’s call list.
Seventeen Mile Drive
BETH MADE A FACE as she switched the news channel off and leaned back in the chair. So much ugliness and corruption. Wars and dirty politics and unbelievable cruelty. Occasionally, there was a story that raised the heart, but they were rare. She had been tempted to turn the set off a dozen times and just stare out the window at the sea.
But she had promised Billy that she would take this time to learn about all the events of the years she had missed and try to grasp how the world was working. She had been studying the History Channel and Discovery as well as the news channels, and she preferred the past to the present. It was the violence of the present that was goading her to draw back into her shell and just look out the window at the sea.
Coward. She had done just that for all these years, and it was time for her to come alive. She had been drugged and manipulated into that false contentment, and she wouldn’t do that to herself now that she was free. She was learning. She wouldn’t be defenseless when she ventured out into the world. She just had to do as Billy told her and not try to hide her head.