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“Please.Isn’t there something you can tell me?”
The nurse cocked her head. “I think I’ve seen you here before.”
Kendra half smiled. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” She looked at the ID card around the nurse’s neck. “Which is it, Holly?”
The woman froze. “You’re Kendra Michaels.”
“Guilty. Still not sure if it’s a good thing.”
“I was working at Scripps Mercy the night you brought in the Conway kids. They’d been kidnapped. You saved all three of them.”
Kendra’s smile faded. There was a fourth shecouldn’tsave, but there was no need to relive that awful memory. “Yes.”
“But you aren’t with the police or FBI at all, are you? You’re some kind of music teacher.”
“A music therapist. I assist law-enforcement agencies from time to time.”
Holly nodded. “I remember. You grew up as a blind person, right?”
Kendra didn’t feel like going through her entire bio with the nurse, but every minute she wasn’t being forcibly ejected was a good thing. “I was blind for the first twenty years of my life. Now that I have my sight, I guess I don’t take anything I see for granted. And like most blind people, I used my other senses—hearing, smell, touch, and taste—to make my way in the world. That has stuck with me. My senses aren’t better than anyone else’s. I just pay more attention. I’ve helped out the FBI and several police departments on some of their cases.”
“I saw you talking to the police that night. You knew so much about that sicko kidnapper just by looking at him. One of the doctors thought you were psychic.”
“Nope. I just pay attention. People tell me about themselves without even realizing it.”
“What am I telling you about myself?”
Kendra sighed. At the moment, the last thing she wanted to do was perform her damn party trick. But if she could use it to gain a little trust and perhaps a sense of obligation…
“You live close to work. Close enough to ride your bike, which you did today.”
Holly’s eyes widened.
“You’re an active person in general. You play tennis.”
Holly smiled. “Yes.”
“I’ve never played, but a lot of my friends have taken up pickleball. They can’t get enough of it. Anyway, on the way in today, you bought a drink from that Starbucks across the street. Pumpkin spice latte. You order from there often.”
“You saw me there.”
“No. You like to travel, and you’ve seen a lot of the world. You want to see more. You’ve recently been to New Zealand. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Stunning.” Holly shook her head. “But how—?”
“I’ll tell you how.” She added persuasively, “But first you need to tell me about the blast victims.”
Holly looked around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “We have four in surgery right now. Three San Diego PD, one FBI. Two of the cops look like they’ll make it. I’m not sure about the other two.” She looked at Kendra’s tense face. “When you came in here, you said, ‘Where is he?’ Is there someone in particular you want to know about?”
“The FBI agent. Roland Metcalf. He’s a good friend.”
“They’re working on him. I don’t believe his burns were as severe as the others, but he has several serious impact wounds. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
Kendra closed her eyes for an instant. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Sure.” She put her hand on Kendra’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
Kendra was silent for a long moment. Keep her talking. Do the party trick and ease her into telling Kendra more. Finally, she said hoarsely, “Your right pant leg is wrinkled.”
