“Borys.” The warning in Hunter’s tone should have been enough to draw immediate compliance, but Borys ignored him.

“Sounds wonderful. I’d love that,” she cooed, smiling her appreciation.

“Gude.” Borys had an infectious grin and thick lashes most women would kill for. “Tell you what-”

“Tell you what,” Hunter said, standing up. “Get the hell out now if you hope to live long enough to cook the rice.”

Borys tossed the napkin on the coffee table and headed for the exit. “Good thing you don’t like women-”

“I like women,” Hunter shot back with the power of a rifle blast.

“Didn’t let me finish.” Borys walked out, but sound traveled easily in a house with wood floors and ceilings. His parting shot came through loud and clear. “You don’t like ’em to stick around for longer than a night.”

“You’re consistent if nothing else,” she quipped, drawing the edge of Hunter’s terminal patience her way. “Is he Cajun?”

He rolled his eyes. “About as much as I am.”

“Is he Texan?”

Hunter sat down again. “Hell no.”

“Well, what is he?”

“A pain in the ass on a good day.”

She lifted her mug of oh-my-God-tasting hot chocolate. “Thought you were in a hurry to talk.”

“I am.” He settled his arms along the chair arms, more tolerant than she’d expected. “Start with the conversation you had with Gwen.”

She reran the conversation quickly, but she was not letting him think he’d won the argument they’d had on the mountain about how to gain access to Kore’s records. “I have to go back for my mother, then try to save my job. I have seven years invested at that television station.”

Walking away from that wouldn’t mean starting over in the television business. It would mean starting over with a new career and forgetting any chance of filming documentaries.

If things turned ugly after the Gwen shooting, she might not have a career to start over. Her dad’s voice chimed in with “Don’t borrow trouble.” Got it.

Hunter calmly said, “You can’t go anywhere near Chicago if you want to stay alive. Once the authorities realize a male left that message I gave the nurses, and you can’t be found, they’ll probably think you’ve been kidnapped.”

“I have.” She offered a smile that matched her sarcasm.

“I mean by the guy who held you at gunpoint.”

The hot chocolate sloshed in her stomach at that reminder. “He won’t be at the Kore center.”

“What makes you so sure?”

She’d done her homework on the women’s center. “Except for a few Wentworth doctors, all the other staff are women. Unless you think Peter Wentworth took a sniper shot at his own daughter, I’m safe walking in there.”

Eyeing his watch, Hunter clenched his fingers at what he saw, then shoved a restless gaze at her. “I can get the information you want once you tell me what you need, but I need to know everything on how to get into the database. If I took you to Chicago with me you’d be vulnerable to the killer. I’m not willing to risk that.”

“It’s not your risk to take.”

“You became my responsibility the minute I took you on that airplane. And if you don’t end up in WITSEC very soon… your other choices won’t be as nice.”

She hadn’t considered a yet worse scenario. “Like what?”

“If you just return to Chicago with no explanation for disappearing, the police are going to question why you left regardless of what happened in your apartment. If Gwen dies, the questions will become more intense. The chances are very good law enforcement tried to contact you again today.”

“That’s why I have to make some calls today. To my sister, who’s probably freaking out at the hospital. And my boss will be looking for me.” And not to congratulate me on dragging WCXB into the incident at the Wentworth party.

He lifted a hand, stalling her. “You can’t talk to the media. I’ll try to put you in touch with your sister. When I called the hospital this morning, both of your sisters had been with your mother individually and together.”

Abbie could just hear the verbal beating she was taking in her absence. Hannah would cut her some slack, but Casey would pounce on the opening to point out Abbie’s lack of support.

She had more important issues to spend her energy on than wasting time gnashing her teeth about Casey. Dr. Tatum was convinced the answers to her mother’s illness were inside the Kore Women’s Center. Abbie held the ace on accessing that information, but she needed Hunter’s help to even get close.

“I’m going out on a limb trusting you,” she warned.

The tense edge around Hunter’s face relaxed, as if he’d been waiting for those words. “I know it and I won’t screw you over.”

“Tell me one more thing.”

“I will if I can.”

“Are you really protecting national security?”

He tapped his finger on the armchair, thinking. Debating. Not wanting to say more. But in the end, he had to know she would give only if he did. “We believe there’s information inside Kore that might lead us to a terrorist planning an attack on the U.S.”

She hadn’t seen that one coming.

Everything crashed in on her-terror from the day before, last night, and this morning, plus bone-deep fear of losing her mother. A part of her still vacillated over believing him, but she had a feeling he might be telling the truth since he’d faced down a crazy guy with a gun who had wanted to see Hunter’s face. She couldn’t in good conscience risk anyone else getting harmed while she waited to find out.

Abbie drew a breath and hurried to share what she knew. “You know my mom’s history with Kore. I understand banking her own blood, but I wonder about the tests they ran.”

“What type of tests?”

“Blood tests? Female tests? I have no idea. The Kore center has an extensive research wing used to study female growth and development issues. They donate a significant amount of resources to programs across the country but only accept women with rare blood issues at the center in West Chicago. They offer a lot of free medical care to women with rare blood in exchange for studying them. That’s what Dr. Tatum told me.”

“How sure are you about him?”

“He’s been our family doctor since delivering my sisters.”

“He didn’t deliver you?”

“No.” She cupped the warm mug, a slim defense against the chill invading her bones. “I’ve been over this a hundred times in my head, but it doesn’t make sense. Dr. Tatum had just seen my mother three weeks back and gave her a clean bill of health. He said she was a great physical example of a fifty-six-year-old woman. Then she goes to the Kore center, comes home, and ends up in the hospital the next day with spleen failure. If her liver continues to deteriorate she’ll need a transplant. Dr. Tatum registered her, but the odds are not good.”

“I’ve got resources-”

“I doubt you’ll find a donor who will match her rare blood. My sisters have normal blood types.”

“What about yours?” He’d leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped. The serious clip of concern in his voice washed over her like a warm breeze.

She needed someone to understand how hopeless everything felt. “I have HH, but I have a negative component that would seriously harm her. Tatum finally broke patient confidentiality this week and told me about her visits to Kore. He said he’d heard rumors through the medical community about questionable procedures the center ran in secret, but no one had ever produced evidence.”

“But Tatum said he has evidence?”

“He told me that while my mother was still lucid she broke down and told him what she knew about Kore. She was terrified of dying and started telling him how on several visits she’d been taken to a special section housed in the genetic research wing where they put her under a local to be tested, but she never thought they would do anything to make her sick. Now she’s not so sure. She also told Tatum she didn’t think Gwen lost her baby in the way we all assumed.”