The stew…

Her ribs hurt. She couldn’t breathe.

Food poisoning…

She was going to die.

Bonnie.

She threw up again.

Nobody was here. Empty house. No one to help her.

Get to the phone.

She was too weak to walk. She crawled back down the hall to the bedroom. It was a million miles away and she had to stop to heave several times.

Her ribs…

The phone… 911. No dial tone.

She tried the operator. “Help… me. Please, help…” The phone dropped from her hand. She was going to pass out.

Not here. She’d die here.

The balcony. Someone might see her. Maybe she could call…

She wasn’t going to make it.

That was okay. She’d be with Bonnie. Why did she keep trying? It would be so easy to give up.

Joe.

She kept crawling. She was out on the balcony, her cheek pressed against the wrought-iron bars. The metal felt cold, clammy…

She couldn’t see anyone near the bayou and the houses were too far away for anyone to hear her if she called. The church loomed huge and dark and silent.

“Help…” Her futile cry was barely audible even to her. Jesus, she couldn’t stop retching. “Help… me.”

She was sliding down, her face was on the tiles. She could no longer see the bayou, only the tall, dark doors of the church. It filled her vision. Would that be the last thing she saw…

Darkness.

“No. You mustn’t sleep. Not yet.”

She opened her eyes.

She was being carried down the stairs.

A man… dark hair… She couldn’t see his face in the darkness of the hall, but his tone was desperate.

Desperate? Why? she wondered vaguely. She was the one who was dying.

“We’ll be there soon. Hold on.”

Be where?

She gagged again, but there was nothing to throw up.

Oh, God, her ribs hurt.

“Are you there? I’m coming, Bonnie.”

“Don’t you dare. It’s not your time.” Bonnie was bending over her. “You fight, Mama.”

“Too tired. Too sad.”

“That doesn’t matter. Things will get better.”

“I want to be with you.”

“You are with me. Always. Why won’t you believe me?”

“I’m too tired… I have to… give up.”

“No, you don’t. I won’t let you. Do you hear me, Mama? I won’t let you…” The house was dark, but he didn’t turn on the light. He moved quickly through the foyer and then down the hall.

Quick. He had to be quick. He didn’t know how much time he had.

The kitchen smelled of lemon and the clean scent of soap, and the white refrigerator gleamed in the moonlight streaming through the window.

Hurry.

He opened the refrigerator and took out the only covered bowl on the shelf. He popped the lid and checked the contents before closing the refrigerator door. Then he wiped the handle and moved toward the door.

It was done.

As he reached the street, his gaze was drawn to the doors of the church, as it always was when he was near it. He felt his stomach muscles clench as the tension and horror gripped him.

No, it was only partly done. Hurry…

White.

White everywhere. White walls, white sheets on her bed.

“Do you want some ice chips? They said you’d probably want some as soon as you woke up.”

A deep voice with just a hint of a British accent.

Her gaze shifted to the dark-haired man sitting in the chair beside the bed. It took a moment for her mind to clear enough to recognize him. “Galen?” Sean Galen nodded. “The water?”

She nodded. Her throat felt so sore and parched that one word had rasped it.

He put the glass to her lips. “You’re hooked up to an IV to help the dehydration, but this should feel good.”

The cold liquid slowly flowing down her throat did feel good. Even though the actual act of swallowing was painfully difficult,

“What are you… doing here?”

“That hurt, didn’t it?” Galen leaned back in the chair. “I’ll try to fill in the gaps. I have to ask a couple of questions. You nod or shake your head. Talk as little as possible. You’re at the Assisi Hospital in Baton Rouge. Do you remember how you got here?”

She shook her head.

“You contracted the granddaddy of all food poisonings. You nearly died. You were brought in after midnight, and it’s nearly four now. They had to work on you for a long time.”

“Food poisoning?”

He nodded. “That’s what they said. Did you eat in a restaurant last night?” She shook her head. “At the house. Marie…”

“Who is Marie?”

“Marie Letaux. Housekeeper. She made me stew.”

“Did anyone else eat any of it?”

She shook her head.

“That’s good. What room did you eat in? Do you know if the rest of the stew is in the refrigerator at the apartment? We need to get rid of it.”

“I ate in the kitchen.” She tried to remember. She had a vague memory of Marie putting foil over the bowl, but she didn’t recall her putting it in the refrigerator.

“Probably.”

“I’ll check it out.” He poured more water into her glass and held it to her lips.

“Though it wouldn’t surprise me if she left it on the counter, if she’s this careless in her cooking.”

“Don’t blame… Nice. Probably not her fault. Someone must have sold her some bad food in the market.”

“Maybe.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked again.

“Logan gave me a call and asked me to go and see what was shaking with you.” He grinned. “What was shaking was your tummy. More like an earthquake. Right?” She nodded. “Logan? How did he know where—” She knew the answer. “Joe.” Galen nodded. “Logan said Quinn asked him to make sure you were all right. He was uneasy about the setup here and said the two of you were on the outs. Since Logan and Quinn are still not on the best of terms, Logan thought it must be serious enough to give me a buzz.“

What had Joe been thinking about? Eve had met Galen only once before, but Logan had told her about his extremely dubious background. He had been everything from a mercenary to a troubleshooter for various corporations. She shook her head. “Don’t… need you.”

“Well, Logan paid me in advance. I may as well stick around for a few days.” He smiled. “You’ll find me very useful. I’m fabulous company, I’m a great cook, and I promise I won’t give you food poisoning. What else could you ask?”

“I don’t need company. I’ll be working.”

“Not until you get over this case of food poisoning. The doctor won’t release you until tomorrow, and said you’ll be weak as a kitten for a few days.” She could believe it. She had just woken up but she could hardly hold her eyes open.

Galen’s gaze narrowed on her face. “If you won’t accept my services, maybe I should call Quinn and tell him about your bout with food poisoning.” And Joe would be on the next flight here. She couldn’t face that right now.

“Blackmail.”

He nodded cheerfully. “Do it well, don’t I?”

Oh, what the hell. It didn’t make any difference. “You can stay, if you promise not to tell Joe about this.”

“Done.” He stood up and headed for the door. “Now, I’ll let you rest. Paul Tanzer is out in the waiting room. He was pretty insistent about seeing you, but I held him off. Do you want me to send him in?”

She shook her head. “Tiresome. Marie called him…” What was the word? “Trou du cul. What does that mean?”

He chuckled. “Asshole. I’m beginning to realize your Marie isn’t as thick-witted as I thought.”

“She’s very smart. She’ll wonder where I am when she comes to the house in the morning. Will you tell her?”

He nodded as he opened the door. “I’ll take care of it. Do you know where she lives?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll ask Tanzer.”

“Galen.”

He looked back at her.

“It wasn’t you who found me and brought me to the hospital, was it?” He shook his head. “I came to the hospital with Paul Tanzer. Logan found out from Melton that Tanzer was his contact here, and I’d just had him routed out of bed when he got the call.”