Page 23

She shook her head. "Officer Mishra was being nice to show it to me. I treated her grandfather last year, and she wanted to help me, but she didn't have the authority to turn it over to me. She said if you wanted to see it, you'd have to ask for it officially."

"But it doesn't give us any more information than what you just told me?"

"It does not. It actually raises more questions. Jack didn't want to be in the hospital. He tried to fight his way out of there hours earlier, so why would he just go with someone into the back of a van?"

"You said he was still somewhat sedated. Maybe they told him they were going to help him get home."

She considered that and nodded. "Possibly. He would have liked to hear that."

"What color was the van?"

"It just looked dark; I can't be more specific."

"Was it a minivan, a work van? Were there windows? Could you see inside?"

"It felt more like a work van. I don't remember seeing windows. The door slid open on the side. The driver was out of view. And then it was gone."

He nodded. "Maybe I'll have our tech team look at security cameras in the area around the time of the fire alarm. Which was when exactly?"

"It was a few minutes after eleven, because my shift had just ended. I was going to check on Jack when it went off. I was stuck downstairs for probably twenty minutes."

"That gives us a narrow window of time to check."

"Have you learned anything else?"

"No, but I'm hoping someone here might be able to tell us something more about Jack. I haven't had a chance to ask, and it's crowded, so let's eat first and let the lunch rush dissipate."

"That's a good idea." Her gaze swept the bar, which had dark wood panels on the walls, dim lighting, weathered tables and chairs, and three TVs, as well as a dartboard and a pool table in a room behind the dining area. "This is nicer than I thought it would be."

"Jack would be comfortable here," he agreed. "Sports on the TV, beer on tap, good-looking bartenders and waitresses."

"Sounds like every guy's dream," she said dryly. "Do you spend a lot of time in bars?"

"No. I spend a lot of time working."

"Me, too. What do you do for fun when you get a day off?"

"Sometimes I'll go for a bike ride. Since I got to New York, I've done most of my exploring on my bike. It's easier to get around."

"Really? Aside from Central Park, I don't feel comfortable riding a bike in the city. But I do run, and I go to the gym several times a week."

"How long have you been in New York?"

"About a year."

"You're originally from LA, right?"

She gave him a surprised look. "Good memory. I was born and raised in Los Angeles."

"Were your parents in medicine?"

"No. My mother worked in marketing and event planning. My father was in finance. I didn't want to follow in either of their footsteps. My aunt was a nurse, and she used to let me follow her around work sometimes. I loved that in her work she could actually help people. Medicine felt purposeful and clear, which was very different from my life."

He gave her a thoughtful look. In the two dates they'd had, he couldn't remember hearing much about her life. The first night, he'd been mesmerized by her looks and how much he wanted to kiss her. The second time, he'd been so focused on how he could get her to help them that he'd barely listened to whatever she was saying, something he didn't intend to share now.

"You make your life sound confusing."

"Confusing is a good word for my childhood. I think I told you my parents are divorced." She paused. "Or maybe I didn't. Anyway, I was ten when they split up, and from then on, life was chaotic. I went back and forth between them, sometimes on a whim, sometimes on a schedule, sometimes because someone had forgotten I was supposed to be with them that week. I started keeping my own calendar because it made me feel slightly more in control but not much."