“Lara Tagnon,” Kendra said absently.

Piltot blinked. “How—I can’t really confirm that—”

“On the nurse’s desk downstairs on the second floor, there were two DVD cases of Laura Tagnon’s most popular movies, along with a thin, silver inked Sharpie pen that one uses for an autograph on the case’s dark background.”

“Very perceptive, Dr. Michaels,” Piltot said.

Maybe too perceptive, Eve thought. But Kendra’s display didn’t seem to arouse any special concern on his part.

However, evidently Kendra was aware that she’d slipped up because she added quickly to distract him, “Not the most professional request for a nurse on duty to make, but I suppose there’s really no harm.”

Piltot smiled. “As long as you didn’t hear it from me.”

“I had no idea she was a patient here,” Kendra said. “The paparazzi have been scouring the country for her.”

“Privacy is important when you’re dealing with celebrities. I’m not sure that I can get permission from either her or her manager to have you evaluate her. Surely you don’t want to see her.”

“Surely I do,” Kendra said with a determined smile. “She’d be a valuable addition to the hospital profile. Why don’t you go and ask her? We’ll wait here.”

Piltot hesitated, then turned away impatiently. “Oh, very well. If you insist. But it’s a waste of time.” He strode down the hall and into a room near the end of the corridor.

Eve was instantly on the phone and beeping Joe. She jammed the phone in her pocket. “Joe is good, but I don’t believe we can count on more than ten minutes stalling, tops.” She glanced at the nurse’s station. The nurse was leaning back in her chair, still absorbed in her phone call. “Let’s go. Room 305 is two doors down.”

They had taken no more than two steps toward the room when Eve heard a male voice behind them.

“Excuse me, but I don’t believe you’re supposed to be here.”

Dammit, caught.

Eve stiffened and turned around.

A tall orderly had appeared in the hallway near the bank of elevators.

“You two look lost,” he said. “May I help you?”

“No, we’re just waiting for Mr. Piltot,” Kendra said. “He had to take a phone call.”

The orderly hesitated, casting a quick glance at their visitor badges to confirm that they weren’t wayward patients. Eve could see the suspicion gradually vanishing. He was a tall, young man with broad shoulders and close-cropped brown hair. He wore the same tight white jeans and T-shirt that the rest of the male orderlies wore.

Kendra extended her left hand. “Dr. Kendra Michaels. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, you’re a doctor? Sorry for the questions. Nobody told me we were having visitors on this floor. We’re supposed to keep an eye out for reporters.” He awkwardly took Kendra’s hand and shook it. “Jessie Newell. The pleasure’s all mine. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”

“Absolutely not. We won’t hold you up.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

They watched as the orderly continued on his way and disappeared into the elevator.

“Close. We’re lucky he didn’t see us going into the room.” Kendra was moving quickly toward Room 305. “Come on.”

Eve was right behind her, and, a minute later, the heavy room door was swinging closed behind them.

“Shit.” Eve murmured as she glanced around. “We’re out of luck. This place looks spotless.”

“Maybe,” Kendra said absently. “But there are still a few faint lingering medical odors. Smell that sulfur? If they only went over the room once, we still have a chance.”

“What can I do?” Eve asked.

“Be quiet so I can concentrate. And keep an eye on the corridor.”

Eve turned to be able to glance out of the rectangular glass inset in the door to the hall. “Right.”

Kendra dropped to her knees in the small room, looking underneath the bed and chair. Both pieces of furniture were bolted to the floor, and to Eve there seemed to be nothing distinctive about either of them. Kendra yanked up the fitted sheet and scanned the side panels of the exposed mattress. She had begun to stretch the sheet back into place when she stiffened and gave a low whistle. She quickly ran her hand between the mattress and the wall.

“What is it?” Eve asked.

Kendra pulled the mattress end toward them, curling it up from the wall. “Look.”

Eve leaned over to see a tiny slit, not more than a quarter inch long on the mattress panel. “It’s a tear.”

“It’s more than that. Look closer.”

As Kendra moved the mattress to the light, Eve could then see the faint oval, and rectangular impressions next to the slit. “Pills!”

Kendra ran her finger over the impressions. “They’re not here now, but they were. The patient in this room wasn’t taking her meds. She may have hidden them in her mouth, then stashed them here until she could safely dispose of them. When they were here, the weight of the patient would pull this mattress taut against the pills, creating the impression.”

“This could have been made years ago,” Eve said.

Kendra shook her head. “Look at the frayed edges of the slit. See how much brighter they are than the rest of the mattress? If they had been exposed for any great length of time, they would be much closer in tone to the rest. This is recent.”

Kendra let go of the mattress and stood facing the wall.

“Anything else?” Eve asked.

Kendra hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Something pretty nasty. Poison.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I think they tried to poison your Beth Avery.” She frowned, working it out. “And it had to be within the past few days. They tried, but they didn’t succeed.”

Eve shook her head in disbelief. Kendra was speaking as matter-of-factly as if she were commenting on the color of the sky. “Dammit, how do you know?”

Kendra pointed high on the wall she was facing. “See that thin line?”

Eve squinted, then shook her head. “No.”

“It’s perfectly clear, but it reflects the light. Move your head back and forth until you—”

“I see it!” Eve took a step closer. It was an extremely thin line, almost invisible, that arced high on the wall behind the bed. Evidently the spray of liquid had dried on the wall and was nearly undetectable. “But what is it?”

“Conium, I’m pretty sure. It’s quite deadly, and has a distinctive odor. It hit me as soon as we stepped close to the bed.” Kendra stood on the bed and moved her face within inches of the clear line.

“And I suppose you have a mental catalog of what every poison smells like?”

“Don’t be sarcastic. No, but I am good with plants. When you spend the first twenty years of your life without sight, scents are very important. Conium is an extract of hemlock, which grows almost everywhere. It retains both the plant’s poisonous properties and its rather unpleasant smell.” Kendra pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and rubbed it along the line. “We’ll see if we can test a sample off this, but I’m sure that’s what it is.”

“Hemlock poisoning,” Eve said. “That’s how Socrates was killed…”

“And it would have killed Beth Avery, but for some reason it ended up sprayed against this wall.”

Eve felt sick as she stared around the room. Pills in the mattress hidden by a desperate woman fighting for her freedom. Poison … “Someone actually tried to kill her.” She looked back up at the lethal streak on the wall. “And even if this didn’t work, there’s no certainty that they didn’t manage to kill her in another way.”

“No certainty. But I believe your sister is still alive.” She met her gaze. “And I think you do, too. Isn’t this what all this is about?”

Eve nodded. “But I have nothing concrete on which to base it. Do you?”

“I don’t deal in concrete, but I have an idea or two.” She turned away. “I want to take one last look around in the bathroom. Keep watch. You haven’t done a good job so far.”

Because what Kendra did had a tendency to blow Eve away. She couldn’t argue with her that she hadn’t been doing her part. “Can’t you hurry?” Eve cast another quick glance through the small window in the door. “It’s already been ten minutes. Joe can’t keep him on the line for much longer.”