Screw him. Drogan was getting nowhere in the search for Beth Avery, and he needed to dig deeper. Someone had to have helped her to escape, and that meant someone knew where she’d go to hide. He had three other names that he was going to tap for information if Newell didn’t pan out.

Including that little bitch Pierce was screwing. He almost hoped he would come up empty questioning the orderly so that he could take his time spoiling Pierce’s lush little playground.

As he was going to take his time with Beth Avery. Every hour that passed, his anger was growing, his ego stinging from the memory of his failure that night.

He stopped at the door to 2A.

Locked.

No problem. He spent only a few minutes before the door swung open.

He stepped inside and closed the door. The apartment was empty, as Pierce had told him it would be. That was all right, he could wait. He went to the refrigerator and took out a beer before he dropped down in a chair facing the door.

Come on, Jessie Newell. I’m waiting to welcome you.

*   *   *

JOE WAS SITTING IN A CHAIR across the room with his laptop on his lap when Eve opened her eyes. It must’ve been late afternoon because the rays of the sun pouring through the window were pale and slanted as they touched Joe’s brown hair. “What time is it?”

“A little after four.”

“I didn’t want to sleep that long. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You evidently needed it.” He raised his eyes from the computer to meet hers. “And I needed the time, too. I was feeling as if you owed me, and that was a very savage response.”

She felt a flash of heat move through her. She held out her hand to him. “Come here.”

He didn’t move. “I’m over it. You don’t owe me anything.”

“The hell I don’t. Oh, not because I closed you out from the action because I wanted to protect you. You have to deal with that because that’s who I am. I’m not about to make love to you to make some kind of recompense.” She tossed the sheet aside and pulled her T-shirt over her head and threw it aside. “Do you know what I owe you? The same thing you owe me. Now come here and give it to me.”

He hesitated, then stood up. “You’re sure?” Then he smiled recklessly and strode toward her, stripping off his clothes. “You’d better be sure because I’ve just gone beyond the point of no return.”

“No, you haven’t.” She pulled him down on top of her, into her. “Not yet. Soon…”

Deep. Deeper.

Heat. Hardness. Rhythm.

She rolled over on top of him. “Joe…”

“Shh.”

She threw her head back and bit down on her lip as his hips plunged upward.

Again.

Again.

Again.

It went on and on … and on.

When the explosion came, it was too much and yet not enough.

She was panting, her heart pounding crazily as he drew her close. Neither of them could speak for a moment.

“We have to do it again,” Joe said as his tongue teased her nipple. “And then again.”

“Yes.”

Joe parted her thighs, then came between them in one stroke.

“Aren’t you going ask me why?”

“Obvious…”

“No … I didn’t do it right.”

“What?”

He smiled down at her as he slowly began to move. “Kendra wouldn’t approve. I didn’t concentrate.”

*   *   *

THE SUN WAS GOING DOWN when Eve and Joe got into the car and started for the Sungate Apartments. She gazed out the window at the sun streaking scarlet across the sea. “Beautiful … I keep thinking how many times Beth must have looked out her window at that hospital and seen this same view. The first time I saw that hospital on the hill, I thought of how free I am down here and what a prisoner she was. Do you know how small her suite was in that place?”

“You told me.” He reached out and covered her hand with his own on the seat. “But now she’s free, too.”

“But for how long?” She moved her shoulders as if shrugging off a burden. “Sorry. Brooding isn’t going to help. We’ve just got to find her.” She glanced at him. “Did you find out anything from those computer files while I was sleeping?”

“I was mainly trying to access the physical records from her accident.”

“And did you?”

“I found some forms with several complicated diagnoses and treatments. All under the supervision of Pierce.” He paused. “But no record of any X-rays taken of the injury. Most unusual. You’d think the X-rays would have been sent with her from the clinic where she was first treated. I searched most of the afternoon in those computer banks and couldn’t find a trace or cross-reference to them.”

“Could they be entered in a separate file?”

“Possibly. Not likely. My bet is that Pierce destroyed them. It’s difficult to forge an X-ray.”

“You’re saying that she probably didn’t have a head injury.”

“I’m saying that I can’t find a record if she did.” He pulled into the parking lot of the Sungate Apartments. It was a small, modest, two-story apartment complex with palm trees framing the entrance and the obligatory swimming pool. He parked and ran around to open her car door. “But maybe Newell can help us out. If he helped her get away, he must have believed that she shouldn’t be in that hospital.” He scanned the numbers on the apartment doors. “I think Newell’s on the second floor.” He headed for the staircase. “Let’s go.”

A few minutes later, they were standing before Apartment 2A. But Jessie Newell didn’t answer the door when Eve and Joe rang the bell.

“Not at home?” Eve said. “Maybe he had to work late. We didn’t really know his schedule.”

“According to his personnel records, he drives a silver Honda.” Joe was frowning. “And there’s a silver Honda in the parking lot. I don’t like it.”

And neither did Eve. Joe’s instincts were near infallible. “Do you have his telephone number?”

“Yes.” He rang the bell again. “I’ll try it if he doesn’t—shit.”

She heard it, too.

A gasping groan, then steps inside the apartment.

But the steps were not coming toward the door.

“Step to the side.” Joe reached for the doorknob. “I’m going in. Stay here.”

“Hell no.” Eve followed him into the apartment.

But she stopped in shock just inside the door. “Dear God.”

Blood.

Blood spattered on the floor of the foyer.

Blood on the chair at the table in the kitchen.

Blood on the man tied to that chair.

Jessie Newell.

There was so much blood running from the two cuts on the face and clothing of the man in that chair that she could barely recognize him. He was gagged, and his eyes were wide with agony.

A knife was sticking out of his shoulder.

Joe was running toward the back of the apartment. “I think whoever did it ran out the back way. I heard the door slam.”

So had Eve, but it hadn’t registered in the shock of seeing the carnage that was Jessie Newell.

She was across the room in seconds and jerking the gag from Newell’s mouth. She was afraid to touch the knife sticking out of his shoulder for fear of damaging organs. “It’s okay, we’ll get you help.”

“Bastard,” Newell whispered. “Stop him. He took—he’ll find her—”

“Quiet. Don’t talk.” She was untying the ropes binding his wrists. “Joe will stop him.”

“I won’t let him kill me. He’s not going to win.” He closed his eyes. “I’m losing blood. No time for EMTs. An intern lives in the apartment downstairs. Jensen. Go get him.”

“I shouldn’t leave you. You’re bleeding…”

“If you don’t get me help, you’ll be staying with a dead man. I’ll be okay. I don’t think he cut any arteries. He wanted to keep me alive.”

Make a decision.

“I’ll be right back. I’ll call 911 on the way down to get this Jensen.” She ran out of the apartment and down the steps to the first level. Which apartment? She was talking to 911 as she went from door to door checking the caption beneath each doorbell.

There it was. K. D. Jensen.