LITMIR.BIZ

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next to it.

      There was no message on the card.

      Blank.

      A cold knot formed inside her.

      She picked up the envelope. It was empty, she thought at first.

      Feeling a subtle bump through the glossy paper, she looked inside.

      A snippet of dark hair, fine and silky.

      Like a child’s hair, she thought.

      A child.

      She dropped the envelope and bolted out the door.

      * * *

      Dan wasn’t sure which direction Lila had headed, but he knew he had to get to her. He ran to the nearest elevator and pressed the button. The light indicated it was on the way down. Lila?

      He sprinted for the stairs and raced down to the fourth floor. He was going to keep running, figuring she was headed for the ground floor exit, when he noticed the stairwell door that opened out onto the fourth floor was not completely closed; a white sock on the floor kept it from latching. Bursting through the door, which creaked open with a squeal, he caught the attention of a short, dark-haired woman.

      It was Patricia Lane, a surgeon at the hospital. “Patricia?”

      “Dr. Blackwater?” The woman goggled. “What are you doing? Is something wrong?”

      “I’m looking for a girl who just ran out of her room. I thought maybe she came up here.”

      She clicked her pen closed. “I’ve been checking the charts for the past fifteen minutes and I haven’t seen anyone running through except for you.”

      He saw no sign of Lila anywhere, just the normal hustle and bustle. An older bearded man appeared at the doorway to his room. He scratched his close-cut beard.

      “Can I get some food? I’m hungry.” He rubbed a sleeve under his nose.

      The man looked vaguely familiar. Dr. Lane hastened to his side. “Please sit down. I’ll have the nurse bring you something right away.”

      The man returned to his room, muttering to himself.

      Dr. Lane smiled. “Sometimes we get a wanderer. You know what that’s like.”

      “I do.”

      But his mind was only on one patient. Lila Brown. He walked the length of the floor and found no sign of her. Perhaps the sock had been a ruse?

      Dr. Lane was staring at him. “I told you. She didn’t come here. Don’t you believe me?”

      “Of course.” He returned to the stairwell door, mulling it over. The sock was protruding through to the inside, which meant Lila had arrived on the fourth floor and exited back out to the stairs. Could it have been dropped by another visitor or patient? Not likely. Patricia Lane was a stern taskmaster. The nurses and orderlies he’d worked with at the hospital were top-notch, as well.

      He walked Patricia to the door and pointed out the sock.

      “Strange,” she said. “I can’t imagine how that got there.”

      “I’m sure it was Lila,” Dan said. “She opened the door and dropped the sock. She must have gone back out again if you didn’t see her. Is it possible you were engrossed in your work and you missed her?”

      Patricia’s lips thinned into a tight line. “I would have noticed. I’m not oblivious to what goes on in my own hospital.”

      “I wouldn’t even suggest that.”

      Her face was stony, eyes hard and unblinking. “I’m glad to hear it.”

      “There must be another explanation,” he said. “Leave the sock there and I’ll get the police on it.”

      “Fine. I’ll continue my rounds.” She turned and strode away.

      Dan mentally ran through the scenario. Patricia Lane was an excellent doctor with a stellar reputation. She must have been focused on her work and not heard the stairwell door open.

      It was the most likely answer. But if she’d been standing at the desk checking charts not five feet from the stairwell door, how could she not have heard it open?

      But what reason could Dr. Lane have for lying?

      A sudden chill crept down his spine. Careful not to disturb the sock, he headed downstairs to find Angela.

      * * *

      Angela emerged into the hallway, and a nurse pointed out the direction Dan had taken to the stairs. Angela hurried to the stairwell door. One of them would surely intercept Lila. She intended to ask on each floor as she went if anyone had seen the girl.

      She started the plunge down the steps. Her feet echoed oddly in the space. Her chest tightened up as the walls closed in around her in an ugly cement fist.

      Keep going. Don’t let the thoughts catch up with you.

      Racing down, she was about to exit on the fourth floor, but she heard a murmur of voices from farther down the stairwell. She continued onto the third floor and listened. No further noise. Her imagination?

      Pressing on, she found a hospital gown tossed onto the cement. It was still warm to the touch. Lila had taken a few frantic moments to change clothes.

      She’s getting out of here for sure. What had scared her so badly that she’d bolt without even taking the time to dress properly? Tension coiled in her gut now like a live serpent, and she continued racing down. Almost to the second floor, she was startled when she heard the door below her open.

      “Lila,” she called out. “Wait. Don’t leave.” Now she was taking the steps two at a time, clutching the railing to keep from falling.

      Six steps down, a man came into view, standing at the bottom landing, just in front of the exit door.

      Harry Gruber.

      He smiled.

      Her breath caught, heart thundering.

      She squashed the surge of panic. You’re not trapped. She could run up and escape through the second-floor door. Stay calm. You’re in control. Her nerves raced as if they had not gotten the message.

      “Odd us meeting again,” Gruber said.

      She swallowed. Take charge of the situation. “Yes, it is, Mr. Gruber.”

      If he was surprised that he’d learned her name, he didn’t show it. “Especially here.” His lips curved in disgust as he gestured. “I hate hospitals, don’t you? Only come when I don’t have any other choice. All those desperate people, hoping to be cured and wondering how they’ll pay for all the pills and procedures. Patients paying for the green fees for the fat-cat doctors. That’s why I started up my clinic.”

      He wore khakis and a short-sleeved shirt neatly buttoned, plaid against a pale yellow background. “What are you doing in the stairwell?”

      He raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing.”

      The air in the stairwell closed in, her palms went damp, breathing shallow, the familiar sense that her body was about to spin out of control. Don’t give in. She’d decided to go back up, outrun him to the next floor, when she saw a man step out onto the landing above her. Someone to help. She let out a gasping breath.

      He looked over the railing at her, unsmiling, black eyes scanning.

      “Sir...” she started, moving toward him. Something in the flat expression on his face made her pause. He was a blurred image of Harry, a relative, a brother. He rested his palms on the railing and stared at her.

      Something cold slithered up her back. Cut off. No escape. She forced herself to keep breathing and speak calmly. “Is that a friend of yours?”

      “My brother, Peter.”

      She

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