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They went through an open iron gate into an unsheltered courtyard where paved walkways wound around flower beds and grassy areas dotted with park benches. Brynn raised her hood to protect herself from the rain. Rye remained bareheaded.
As they entered the multistory building, Brynn spoke to the guard on duty, addressing him by name. Seated at a table, he acknowledged the greeting with a lazy wave, but never took his eyes off the small TV tuned to a crime drama.
Speaking out of the corner of his mouth, Rye said, “If he’s security, I don’t feel all that safe.”
“You’re the most disreputable-looking person I’ve ever seen in here.”
“That’s what bothers me. He didn’t give me a second glance.”
They walked along the deserted corridor to the bank of elevators. She punched the up button.
He said, “You still have the stuff?”
She patted her coat pocket. “I’m glad the pharmacologist had the foresight to seal it in bubble wrap.”
“Yeah, it’s seen some miles since it left the lab.”
Although there was no one in sight except the guard, Rye remained watchful and edgy, aware of every motion and sound. Noticing that he was flexing and contracting his fingers again, she said, “You really should put something on those cuts.”
“When I can get around to it.” He glanced up toward the ceiling. “What floor is she on?”
“Three.”
He nodded as though that was of major importance. She supposed the small talk was in lieu of more quarreling. Weary of both, she gave him a small smile. “Only family members and pre-approved friends are allowed upstairs, so we have to say goodbye here.” As she thought on something, she laughed softly.
“What’s funny?”
“It occurs to me that this is our third goodbye today. At the hospital this morning, Nate’s office, now here.”
“May be a Guinness record.”
“May be.” As she looked into his eyes, her smile faltered. “I take back what I said a minute ago about the crashing airplane.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I want to say…This wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for you, flying last night when no one else would. Thank you, Rye.”
“You already said it.”
“I’m saying it again.”
He negated the need for the additional gratitude with an uneasy roll of his shoulders.
The elevator arrived. Before the door opened, he tensed as though expecting someone to pounce out of it. But the cubicle was empty. He placed his hand on the door to hold it open.
“Twenty-four hours to spare,” he said.
“But I’m going to start the drip right away.”
He bobbed his chin. “Good luck. I’ll know it got Violet well when you get famous.”
“That’s not why I’m doing this.”
“I know.”
“Don’t leave thinking that.”
“I don’t.”
