And if Sandra didn’t get out of there, she was going to risk either a brutal beating or an overdose. “How long has he been gone?”

“I don’t know … it seems like a long time.”

If Sandra was on crack, that could mean anything. Two minutes or two hours.

“What’s your room number?”

“It’s 2012.”

“I’ll come after you. Go to the bathroom and wash your face and try to stop the bleeding.”

“I will. You’ll hurry?”

“I’ll hurry.” She hung up the receiver, and leaned her head against the phone for a moment. She tried to think. Dammit, Sandra, why wouldn’t you just call the desk? But Sandra wasn’t going to do it, so that meant the ball was in Eve’s court.

So get it done.

She whirled and strode toward the front entrance. “I have to go, Mr. Kimble. Emergency…”

A moment later she was running across the street toward John’s car. Teresa was leaning with her elbows on the open window of the passenger door talking to John. She glanced at Eve in surprise as Eve nudged her aside.

“Get out of my way. I’m in a hurry.” Eve jumped in the passenger seat and turned to John. “Take me to the Marriott Hotel.”

“A hotel? That’s too good to be true.” He was studying her expression. “Yes, I’m right, it is too good.” He started the car. “Bye, Teresa, nice talking to you.”

“Yeah.” Teresa was still in the street watching as the Chevy pulled away from the curb.

“Why the Marriott?” John asked as he stopped at the red light on the corner.

“Sandra … my mother is in trouble. Someone beat her up and locked her in the hotel room. I have to get there as quickly as possible.”

“And I had a car.”

“The Marriott is ten or twelve blocks away. Just drop me off, and I’ll take it from there.”

“I know where it is. That fancy downtown Marriott.” He glanced at her. “How badly is she hurt?”

“I don’t know. She wasn’t too coherent. She said she’s bleeding.” She shook her head. “I don’t think that she’s too bad. She wasn’t scared enough to call downstairs to the front desk.” Her lips tightened. “She’d rather have me rescue her again.”

“How many times has it happened?”

“Two or three times. Not like this. Once was at the apartment, a couple times in bars. She’s not a good judge of men. Anyone who has the stuff and is willing to sweet-talk her is enough.”

“You’re angry with her.”

“Yes, this is so stupid. I’m angry and I’m worried and I want her to stop. She’s only a little over thirty. At this rate, she won’t live to forty. She’s selfish and vain and doesn’t care for anyone but herself.” She crossed her arms across her chest, her hands tightly gripping her upper arms to keep from shaking. “I try to hate her, but I can’t do it.” She repeated through set teeth, “I can’t do it.”

“Easy.” John’s hand was on her thigh. “We’ll get her out of this.”

“This time,” Eve said. “What about next time?”

“You can’t keep doing it. You’re not the mother, she is.”

“That doesn’t seem to make any difference,” she said shakily. “And it won’t, until I find a way to hate her. I’m not sure I ever will.”

“Then we’ll just worry about this time.” He pulled up the ramp of the Marriott and parked at the far end. “Leave everything to me. Stay behind me. You look too upset. We don’t want security thinking I’m dragging in an underage girl for sex.”

She got out of the car. “I can handle this myself, John.”

“Stay behind me.” He got out of the car and moved toward the doorman. “We’re just going to run inside and pick up my girlfriend’s mother. Would you keep an eye on my car?”

The doorman frowned as he looked at the shabby vehicle. “You can’t leave that thing parked out here for long.”

“Ten minutes.” John smiled. “I don’t want to make her mother walk far. She had an accident last week.” He was pushing Eve through the revolving doors. “Thanks a lot, buddy.”

He moved Eve quickly through the glittering lobby to the elevators. “Casual,” he said in a low tone. “Smile.”

She smiled with an effort as she got into the elevator. “It’s 2012.”

He pressed the button. “Right.”

“I thought I’d try to find a housekeeping maid to let me into the room.”

“That’s one way.” The elevator stopped, and he nudged her out of the elevator. “It might take time to find one that we can con into unlocking the door. But, you know, I don’t understand how he could lock her in.” He stopped in front of 2012. “At any rate, let’s try my way first.” He bent over the lock. “You’re sure this is the right room? Otherwise, it could prove embarrassing.”

“She said 2012. But no, I’m not sure. I’m never sure with Sandra. What are you doing?”

“Picking the lock.”

“Something your uncle taught you?”

“No, something I learned when I was running with a gang when I was fourteen. I told you I wasn’t a good guy.” He frowned. “Oh, that’s how he did it.” He pulled on the knob, and it came off in his hand. “He smashed the knob off.” His gaze narrowed on the lock and then he took out his pocketknife and started to work on the tumblers. “And then he stuck in something metal to jam the lock and put the knob back. I don’t think this is the first time that he did something like this. Your mom should be more careful with her friends.” He worked for a minute and straightened. “That should do it.” He pushed and the door swung open. “There we go.”

“Sandra?” Eve pushed ahead of John into the room. “It’s Eve. Are you—”

“Eve!” Sandra came running out of the bathroom. Her hair was mussed, her pink dress torn, her face bruised and washed clean of makeup. “I knew you’d find a way, honey.” She gave Eve a hug. “It’s been positively terrible for me. Men like him should be arrested.”

“Then stay away from men like him.” Eve pushed her back and looked at her. Yeah, she was definitely on something, but Eve didn’t know how deep. Deep enough for her not to realize that she’d been beaten worse than she’d thought. Four bruises marked her fair skin, she had a black eye, and her lip was cut. “He worked you over, Sandra.”

“I told you he wasn’t nice to me.” She lifted her hand to her lips. “See my cut? He didn’t have to do that.” Her gaze wandered to John Gallo. “Who is this, honey?”

“John Gallo,” John said. “I’m a friend of Eve’s.” He looked around the room. “We should get out of here. Do you have anything you need to take with you?”

“My purse.” She gestured vaguely. “On the bed.” She was studying John as he got her purse and handed it to her. “What a good-looking young man. Have you been keeping him from me, Eve? And he’s so polite. I wouldn’t mind you having a young man like him. A woman needs a man to take care of her needs. You’ve never seemed to understand that.”

“We have to go, Sandra.” She took Sandra’s elbow and pushed her toward the door. “Try to walk straight. When we get to the lobby, you have to move fast if you don’t want to attract attention.”

She nodded. “Mustn’t do that. Hotel people are so suspicious…” She looked back at them over her shoulder. “How did you get in the door? I didn’t ask—”

“What’s this?” A big, muscular man in a tan sport coat was standing in the doorway. “Where do you think you’re going, Sandra?”

She stopped. “Hello, Jimmy.” She moistened her lips. “I’m going now.”

“The hell you are. You promised me a party.”

“Party’s over.” Eve took Sandra’s arm and pushed her forward. “And parties don’t usually start with assault and battery. She’s leaving.”

“This is my daughter, Eve,” Sandra said. “And she’s right, you didn’t treat me right. I didn’t like you—”

The man she’d called Jimmy grabbed Eve’s arm as she passed with Sandra. “You can stay. I’ve never had a mother and daughter together before. But you don’t take her anywhere.”

“Yes, she does.” John was suddenly between them. He grabbed the hand that was grasping Eve’s arm. His thumb was pressing into Jimmy’s wrist. “Let her go.”