Mia’s card in his wallet. “I’ll be back tomorrow to fix the roof.” He hesitated, then blurted, “Do you still have your gun?”
Dana shivered. “Yeah. At my apartment.”
“Bring it here. Call me if you need me. I mean it. I don’t care what time it is.”
“I will.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Lock the door behind me.”
Dana followed him to the door, flipped the three deadbolts. Then jumped when she heard her name called, so softly. Turned to find a woman standing in the kitchen doorway. “Jane.” The client she’d picked up last night. Quickly she searched Jane’s face, wondered how much, if any, she’d heard. But Jane just blinked out of those pale, pale eyes that sent new shivers down Dana’s back.
“I just wanted to get some Benadryl for Erik,” Jane half whispered. “He’s having trouble breathing. Allergies, I think. But if this is a bad time . . .”
Dana made her feet move. Lillian was gone and that she could not change. Jane was here now and needed her help. “It’s not a bad time.” She unlocked the cabinet where they kept the over-the-counter medicines and took out a bottle of Benadryl and a plastic cup. “Erik weighs, what, about eighty or ninety?”
Jane’s eyes had narrowed at the plastic cup. “About. What if that’s not enough?”
Dana managed a smile. “Then we’ll get him some more. Hanover House policy is to dispense medicine by the dose. I’d hate to have a kid get sick because we left a bottle out where they could get hold of it.”
Jane’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I understand. Thank you.”
Dana watched her take the little plastic cup. Heard Jane’s footsteps as she went up the stairs. And rested her forehead against the cabinet as she locked it back up. Policies. Without them they’d have chaos.
Thoughts of Lillian and Ben and Naomi flooded her mind and grief stabbed sharp into her heart. Lillian had been so brave, the children so hopeful. Now those beautiful children would grow up with no one. It seemed that they had chaos anyway.
I’m so tired. She’d sleep, she thought, but just for a few hours. She needed to be back at the bus station by four A.M. Life would go on. And so will I.
Chapter Four
Chicago, Sunday, August 1, 5:30 A.M.
“Excuse me.” Ethan flagged the security guard. “I need to speak with the manager.”
The young man lifted his sandy brows. “About?”
Ethan reached for his wallet and held up a calming hand. “My credentials.” He’d applied for the P.I. license to do background checks for his customers. He never dreamed he’d ever be flipping it out in true Magnum, P.I. style, but that’s exactly what he’d done. Six times in the past thirty-six hours. If the situation wasn’t so grave, he’d feel ridiculous.
“I’m looking for a woman and a little boy.” He gave a careless shrug. “Custodial thing. The mother picked the kid up from school and disappeared.” He uttered the lie smoothly, understandable as it was the sixth time in thirty-six hours that he’d done so. “She might have come through here and I’m hoping to check your surveillance tapes.”
He then held his breath. Technically nobody had to let him view the tapes without a subpoena. So far though, he’d been lucky five times. He silently prayed for a sixth.
The guard narrowed his eyes. “I’ll need to talk to the manager on duty.”
Ethan leaned against the counter, his elbow taking the weight of his whole body. Before Kandahar, four hours’ sleep would have lasted him forty-eight. Not anymore. He didn’t need to glance at his watch to know he hadn’t slept since Friday. The brass band marching through his head was clue enough. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, prodding him to alertness. The incoming number revealed it to be Clay. “What’s up?”
“Where are you, Ethan?” Clay asked.
“In Chicago. Finally.”
“And?”
From his position against the bus station counter, Ethan watched the security guard lean in to
Dana shivered. “Yeah. At my apartment.”
“Bring it here. Call me if you need me. I mean it. I don’t care what time it is.”
“I will.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Lock the door behind me.”
Dana followed him to the door, flipped the three deadbolts. Then jumped when she heard her name called, so softly. Turned to find a woman standing in the kitchen doorway. “Jane.” The client she’d picked up last night. Quickly she searched Jane’s face, wondered how much, if any, she’d heard. But Jane just blinked out of those pale, pale eyes that sent new shivers down Dana’s back.
“I just wanted to get some Benadryl for Erik,” Jane half whispered. “He’s having trouble breathing. Allergies, I think. But if this is a bad time . . .”
Dana made her feet move. Lillian was gone and that she could not change. Jane was here now and needed her help. “It’s not a bad time.” She unlocked the cabinet where they kept the over-the-counter medicines and took out a bottle of Benadryl and a plastic cup. “Erik weighs, what, about eighty or ninety?”
Jane’s eyes had narrowed at the plastic cup. “About. What if that’s not enough?”
Dana managed a smile. “Then we’ll get him some more. Hanover House policy is to dispense medicine by the dose. I’d hate to have a kid get sick because we left a bottle out where they could get hold of it.”
Jane’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I understand. Thank you.”
Dana watched her take the little plastic cup. Heard Jane’s footsteps as she went up the stairs. And rested her forehead against the cabinet as she locked it back up. Policies. Without them they’d have chaos.
Thoughts of Lillian and Ben and Naomi flooded her mind and grief stabbed sharp into her heart. Lillian had been so brave, the children so hopeful. Now those beautiful children would grow up with no one. It seemed that they had chaos anyway.
I’m so tired. She’d sleep, she thought, but just for a few hours. She needed to be back at the bus station by four A.M. Life would go on. And so will I.
Chapter Four
Chicago, Sunday, August 1, 5:30 A.M.
“Excuse me.” Ethan flagged the security guard. “I need to speak with the manager.”
The young man lifted his sandy brows. “About?”
Ethan reached for his wallet and held up a calming hand. “My credentials.” He’d applied for the P.I. license to do background checks for his customers. He never dreamed he’d ever be flipping it out in true Magnum, P.I. style, but that’s exactly what he’d done. Six times in the past thirty-six hours. If the situation wasn’t so grave, he’d feel ridiculous.
“I’m looking for a woman and a little boy.” He gave a careless shrug. “Custodial thing. The mother picked the kid up from school and disappeared.” He uttered the lie smoothly, understandable as it was the sixth time in thirty-six hours that he’d done so. “She might have come through here and I’m hoping to check your surveillance tapes.”
He then held his breath. Technically nobody had to let him view the tapes without a subpoena. So far though, he’d been lucky five times. He silently prayed for a sixth.
The guard narrowed his eyes. “I’ll need to talk to the manager on duty.”
Ethan leaned against the counter, his elbow taking the weight of his whole body. Before Kandahar, four hours’ sleep would have lasted him forty-eight. Not anymore. He didn’t need to glance at his watch to know he hadn’t slept since Friday. The brass band marching through his head was clue enough. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, prodding him to alertness. The incoming number revealed it to be Clay. “What’s up?”
“Where are you, Ethan?” Clay asked.
“In Chicago. Finally.”
“And?”
From his position against the bus station counter, Ethan watched the security guard lean in to
Similar Books
