“Only that he and Venable were going to spend the night searching the woods near the lake, then visit the farms in the area and ask questions.” She leaned back against the pillows. Why couldn’t she get over this damnable weakness? She’d thought she’d be much stronger after a night’s rest. “Still no word on Ben Hudson.”

“But the search is centering on the lake cottage.” Margaret’s tone was thoughtful. “That’s where we should start.”

“We?” Jane shook her head. “I told you that you don’t owe me anything. You’re out of this, Margaret.”

“I don’t intend to intrude. I’ll just sort of … help a little.” She got to her feet. “And I can tell that it’s better if I leave you right now. We’re going to argue, and you’ll get upset. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something to tell you.” She squeezed Jane’s hand and smiled. “Stop worrying. It’s going to be okay. I know that you’re going to go to your Joe as soon as you can bust out of here. I’m just going ahead to prepare the way for you.”

“You’re going to Atlanta? No, Margaret, I’m not taking you away from your work and Summer Island to do anything that—”

“Shh.” Margaret was heading for the door. “It’s not only for you. I’m very angry at that bastard who poisoned Toby. I’m betting it’s the same person who shot you. It would make sense. I hate people who victimize the helpless.”

“I’m not helpless.”

“No you’re not, but Toby was. For all I know, your Eve is helpless, too.”

Jane shook her head.

“Good, then when we find her, she’ll be able to help.”

Margaret was so positive and upbeat that Jane felt an upsurge of hope. She hadn’t realized until this moment how much she needed that hope. “Eve would not only help, she’d take over.” Then she got back to the subject. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m turning this over to—”

“Just going to prepare the way,” Margaret repeated as she paused at the door. “I’ll be in touch, Jane. You work on getting well.”

Before Jane could speak, Margaret had glided out of the room. She gazed after her in helpless frustration. Yes, “helpless” was the word. She wanted to jump out of bed and go after her. It wasn’t enough that Margaret was going to put herself in danger out of some mistaken sense of obligation to Jane. The girl obviously had baggage that could toss her into a volcano of trouble even if Eve’s situation hadn’t been front and center.

“You’re frowning.” Caleb was standing in the doorway. “Don’t tell me. Margaret?”

“That was an easy enough guess. You must have seen her in the hall.”

He nodded. “And she looked a lot happier than you do. But then, not much seems to bother her.”

She had a sudden memory of that brief, shadowed expression. “I’m not so sure. Why didn’t you tell me you’d brought her from the island?”

“I wasn’t certain that you’d approve.”

She raised her brows.

“Okay, I had to do a little juggling and hunting for her. She needed better credentials. I didn’t want to make you an accessory.”

“But you didn’t mind doing it yourself.”

“She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“I see.”

He smiled. “No, you don’t. She’s not my type. Much too sunny. She offered to make herself useful to me.”

“Stalking.”

“What?”

“Just something that Margaret said about you.”

“I can imagine.”

“She also said that you didn’t tell me she was here because you wanted to be the center of attention.”

“Possibly.”

His hand on her cheek. His tongue outlining her lip.

He was smiling, but she was relieved that he was obviously not going to pursue the details of that nocturnal visit. She moistened her lips. “She’s talking about going to the lake cottage. I think she’s going to ask you to take her.”

“Do you want me to do it?”

“No, I want her to go back to the island.”

“She won’t do it. She’s on a mission. But I can delay her if I refuse to take her.”

“Then do it. Maybe I’ll be out of here by that time.”

“Of course I did manage to get her a very authentic-looking passport and driver’s license last night after I arrived here.”

“Why?”

“She wanted it, and it seemed a good idea at the time. She might not need me. She might decide to hitch a ride on a cruise ship to Miami. There’s always that possibility. Then you’d lose track of her and what she’s doing. Do you really want that?”

“No, I just want to find Eve without having to worry about anyone else,” she said wearily.

“Then I’ll see what I can do about stalling her.” He smiled. “Now rest. I talked to Dr. Perez and he said you’re doing well and he thinks that he can release you day after tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “He can release me when I can get out of this bed and get dressed.”

“Whatever.” He tucked the sheet around her. “Whenever you call me, I’m at your disposal. Any news from Quinn today?”

“No, I’m going to call him by noon if he doesn’t call me.” She shivered. “They were searching the woods. I suppose it’s good news he hasn’t called me.”

“But you don’t feel as if it’s good news. You feel as if you’re treading water. I can—” His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the screen. His brows rose in surprise. “Your Joe Quinn.”

Jane tensed. “Why would he call you?”

“You’re thinking bad thoughts,” Caleb said. “Relax. I assure you that he wouldn’t call me to cushion bad news for you. He wouldn’t trust my sensitivity.” He turned up the volume before he answered the call. “Caleb.”

“I’m sending you a file,” Joe said briefly. “I gave Venable the disk when I got in yesterday, and he had it processed within a few hours, then checked the data banks. The shooter’s name is Terence Blick, but he doesn’t appear to have much of a record.”

“What’s his connection to Jane or Eve?”

“Not a damn thing that I can see. At least not in the file that Venable gave me.”

“You think there are omissions?”

“I don’t know what I think. It’s possible. Venable is being entirely too enigmatic. I’m going to check some of my own sources and see if I can find out anything else. How is Jane?”

“Better. She’s right here. Do you want to talk to her?”

“No, just show her the file. That’s all I know right now. I’ll call her later. I kept my word, Caleb. Now we’re quits.” He hung up.

“He sounds tired. He didn’t have the strength to insult or abuse me.” Caleb pressed the disconnect and brought up the file. “I’m sending the file to your phone for you to study.” He dropped down in the chair beside her bed. “It will give you something to occupy you while you’re stuck here.”

He began to read the file.

She immediately grabbed her iPhone on the bedside table and pulled up the file.

Photo, first.

She didn’t even know what the man who had shot her looked like.

Thirties, curly red hair, freckles, large nose, and blue eyes. She had never seen him before. No, that wasn’t right. His curly hair and thick neck bore a resemblance to the photo of the man who had been at the dog day-care center, the man who had poisoned Toby. A slender, fragile connection that was totally baffling.

She began to quickly scan the file.

Terence Blick. Age thirty-four. Born in Chicago, lived for his first fourteen years in a suburb on the north side. Father, a bus driver, mother a waitress. Several charges of petty theft and shoplifting during that period, but he was never convicted. He had dropped out of high school and left town right after his fourteenth birthday. A few years later he had joined the Army and was sent overseas. He was honorably discharged eight years later and returned to Chicago. His mother and father died in an automobile accident shortly after he returned home. He sold the home that he’d inherited from them and began drifting around the country, taking minimum-wage jobs whenever he got low on funds.

Caleb was sitting waiting for her to finish when she looked up a few minutes later. “There’s not much here.” She frowned. “Nothing to tell me why he did this.”