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She didn’t even need the seat warmers. Joe’s presence made her feel warm and secure, but she wanted to match his decisiveness. She couldn’t depend on him forever.
“I’m going to call Agent Porter tomorrow and tell him what happened to Ayala.”
“We don’t know what happened to her yet.”
“Just another attack on one of the kidnap victims in Syria. They have to pay attention now. They have to take it seriously—Marten, Andrew, me and now Ayala. How much more proof do they need?”
“They need actual proof, not suspicions and supposition—Marten’s body never turned up and nobody has reported him missing, we haven’t heard anything back about Andrew, and we don’t have the video. The attack on you could’ve been a wayward driver, and if Ayala was poisoned... I guess we’ll see.”
“Yeah, details, details.” She swung out of the hotel’s parking lot. “Let’s see if Marten’s room can offer us any proof.”
The Pacific Rim was a hop and skip from the restaurant, but a car couldn’t hop and skip through the San Francisco traffic. On the way over, Hailey tossed her phone into Joe’s lap. “Can you please call the hospital where they took Ayala? It’s San Francisco General.”
Joe got the number from information, which then connected him to the hospital. He kept the phone and asked about Ayala.
“We’re the ones who were with her. She’s visiting from Florida. She doesn’t have family here.” He rolled his eyes at Hailey. “I’m on hold.”
“Mention my father’s name.”
“What?”
“He raises a ton of money for that hospital.”
Joe pressed his lips into a thin line, and Hailey’s eyelid twitched. She sounded as bad as her father on one of his worst days—throwing around his weight and money. But this was for a good cause.
“I understand. Just a minute, please.” He held out the phone to Hailey. “You’re the expert. I wouldn’t even know how to begin using that leverage.”
Hailey swallowed and took the phone from him. “Yes, hello. This is Hailey Duvall. My father, Ray Duvall, helped fund the burn unit there at the hospital. Ayala Khan is my friend. She was visiting me and we were out to dinner when she became ill. I’d appreciate any information you could give me about her condition.”
In her haste to give Hailey whatever she wanted, the nurse sputtered and stammered but was able to communicate that Ayala was doing well, had regained consciousness and would be ready to receive visitors tomorrow morning.
“Thank you so much. What’s your name?”
“Shailene Franklin.”
“Thanks, Shailene. I’ll make sure to tell my father what great employees work at San Fran Gen the next time he meets with Mr. Sharpe, the director of operations.”
Hailey ended the call and dropped her phone in the cup holder, ignoring Joe’s gaze burning into the side of her face like a laser.
After several seconds, Joe cleared his throat. “Wow, so that’s how it’s done.”
Hailey was thankful for the darkness of the car’s interior, which hid the warm blush on her cheeks. “I learned from the best.”
“You keep saying that, and yet you seem to scorn the best, as you call your father.”
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What are you saying, Joe?”
He flashed his palm at her. “Look, I’m not criticizing you for using your father’s name and influence to get what you want.”
“Need.”
“What?”
“To get what I need, not what I want.”
“Okay, okay. I’d do the same. Anyone would, but you seem to heap scorn on your father for supplying you with the means to use his influence and money. It’s kinda...”
“Hypocritical?”
His hand inched over to her thigh, and he skimmed his knuckles across the denim of her jeans. “You know what? You can just ignore me and my stupid judgments. I’m probably just jealous that the only string my pop could pull for me was for a free brewski at the corner tavern.”
His apology felt as warm as his hand on her knee—heartfelt, sincere. Apologies flowed from his lips freely, as if he were accustomed to making them. What would Joe McVie have to apologize for in his life? Seemed as if he’d soldiered through a rough childhood and then made his way onto an elite military unit. He had loyalty and protectiveness—and muscles—to spare. He had no reason to be apologetic about anything, especially criticizing a spoiled rich girl.
