news channel back on. “Go ahead,” she muttered to the slick-looking newscaster who was showing scenes from the latest Middle Eastern atrocity. “Give me another couple days, and maybe I’ll get as callous as the rest of you. Though God knows I don’t—” She broke off, stiffening, as her gaze flew to the desk across the room.
Her cell phone was ringing.
It was the first time the phone had rung since Billy had given it to her.
Billy?
She jumped to her feet and ran across the room. He had said he wouldn’t contact her, but he was the only one who had her number.
Or it could be a wrong number.
She hesitated.
The phone rang again.
But what if it was Billy, and he needed to reach her?
Private number on the ID panel.
She slowly reached out and punched the access. “Billy?”
“No.” The voice was crisp and businesslike. “Santa Barbara Police Department. We’re investigating the homicide of a Jessie Newell. Your number was on his phone. What is your name please?”
“Homicide?” Murder. He was talking about murder. Billy’s murder. She couldn’t breathe. “How? What—”
“He was stabbed to death. What did you say your name was?”
Stabbed. She closed her eyes. “Dear God.”
“Your name.” This time his voice was no longer crisp and businesslike. It was rough and ugly.
And she recognized it.
“Bitch.”
A dark hospital room where she struggled for her life.
A man who cursed her and tried to inject her with that deadly hypodermic.
Panic.
Her heart leaped in her breast.
She hung up the phone.
He had found her.
She felt a wave of sickness wash over her.
And he had found Billy.
Stabbed him. Billy was dead.
He had died for her.
And now his killer would be coming to get her.
She steadied herself on the desk as the sadness and fear and anger attacked her.
Billy.
CHAPTER
9
JOE AND EVE WERE IN the waiting room for over three hours before Jensen gave them a report. “He’ll be okay. The shoulder wound was only a glancing blow, and that was the worst of it,” he said as he came out of the emergency room. “Thirty-two wounds, inflicted to give maximum pain. Whoever did it knew what he was doing.” His face was tight. “Jessie could have bled to death if he’d been careless, or he might have gone unconscious from the trauma effect. Jessie’s a good guy, he didn’t deserve this. Do you know who did it?”
“No, did he tell you?”
Jensen shook his head. “I didn’t ask him. That’s not my job. But evidently it’s your job. He’s waiting for a room to be readied. You can go in and ask him a few questions, but I don’t want him agitated.”
“No problem.”
Jensen frowned. “I mean it. Everyone likes Jessie Newell. The nurse on duty has been taking inquiries ever since we got here asking about him.”
“Really? From whom?”
He shrugged. “People from the apartment. Coworkers from the hospital where he works. Look, I’ve no idea what he did, but I’d lay odds that Jessie is clean. That guy who did this must be a complete nut.”
“Good chance. May we see him now?”
“Sure.” He turned away. “Second door on the left.”
“Coworkers,” Eve murmured as she walked with him down the hall. “Pierce?”
“If he’s the one who hired Drogan, the man who did this. Drogan might have called him with a report.” He checked his phone. “No info on a Drogan yet. Maybe Newell will be able to tell us more.”
“I didn’t get the impression that he knew much more than his name, but I could be wrong.”
When they entered the recovery room, Jessie Newell was lying in bed, swathed in bandages. “It’s about time. You’ve got to get me out of here.”
“I thought you’d changed your mind and were going to let them check you into the hospital,” Eve said. “Your intern friend said you were waiting for the next available room.”
“You can’t argue with hospital personnel. I know that from experience. You just have to agree, then do your own thing.” He struggled up in bed. “Get me something to wear. They stripped everything off me.”
“They had no choice,” Eve said dryly. “Your clothes were bloody and ripped in dozens of places.”
“I have to get out of here. Now.” He met Eve’s gaze. “I’m vulnerable here. Doctors and nurses all belong to the same club. Pierce is well-known all over Santa Barbara. He or one of his cohorts could come in here, and they’d welcome him with open arms.”
“You think he’d try to kill you?”
“Not if he could arrange for someone else to do it. But he’s scared, and