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“I’m sorry… I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“The hospital staff has been given explicit instructions. No information about patients can be shared outside these walls.”
“But this patient, lying right here, is giving you permission.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did. But if I couldn’t reach Bill Devander, my chances of leaving this hospital floor were close to zero.
My other options? I’d hoped that news of my situation had reached Quentin by now. But the radio silence meant he was embroiled in some kind of mission in some remote part of the planet. (Last I heard, he was knee-deep in some North Korean intrigue and very unreachable.) Anyway, I couldn’t afford to wait for my mentor to rush in and save the day. He’d taught me better than that.
“I don’t want to die alone.”
“Look, I can ask the government liaison if—”
“Jonas,please. I don’t want to have to apply for permission to say goodbye to a member of my family. He doesn’t even know anything has happened to us!”
“I’m telling you,Ican’t call anyone.”
I was still puzzling out Dr. Hoffman’s strange emphasis as he left the room. In fact, I was downright furious—until I realized that Jonas had left his personal cell phone on my bedside table.
CHAPTER 14
“THIS ISN’T QUITE the way I thought we’d meet,” Bill Devander said.
“Yeah, this isn’t quite how I pictured it, either,” I said. “I thought there would be cocktails involved.”
Using Jonas’s “forgotten” phone, I’d been able to reach Bill quickly—or rather, his curt executive assistant, who took my message with zero promise of a return call. Instead of calling me back, Bill himself appeared in my chilly hospital room less than thirty minutes later.
Bill wasn’t as boyishly handsome as Kevin, nor as tall. But he did his best to make up for it with a bespoke suit, professionally tanned skin, and a haircut carefully designed to hide the thinning going on up there.
Bill gave me a wide smile. “There’s that sense of humor Kevin was always talking about. Even now…”
His smiled faltered as he spoke Kevin’s name, and I could see tears beginning to form in his eyes. No. We couldn’t do this now. We could both grieve for Kevin later. Right now, my objective was to make it out of this room, and I needed Bill to be clear-headed enough to help me.
“I’m so sorry, Samantha,” he said. “There are no words for what happened…”
“Yes, there is,” I replied. “The word ismurder. And I’m going to find the bastards who did this.”
Bill blinked. “I’m sorry…? I think I misheard you.”
“I’m going to find them and make them suffer.”
A grave look fell over Bill’s face. He gingerly lowered himself onto the side of my bed and held my hand just as carefully as if I were made of porcelain. Clearly he’d been told I was not contagious; just hopelessly fragile. There was something familiar about him… His mannerisms were all so…Kevin. But it made sense. Spend years in the close orbit of someone and you begin to share traits. It was eerie yet reassuring to see tiny pieces of my love reflected in this total stranger.
I was also embarrassed that he was touching my hand, because I was suddenly sweating uncontrollably. Which is crazy, considering my room felt like a freezer. Was this yet another delightful symptom of the chemical agent?
“Samantha,” Bill said, “listen to me. I know you’re hurting, worse than anyone has a right to hurt. But there are professionals working hard to find out who did this. Even if you were in any condition to help, you’d only be duplicating their efforts. Maybe even getting in the way.”
“I’m a professional, too,” I said quietly.
The tell was small; just a slight widening of the eyes. And Bill quickly tried to cover for it by wiping away a tear. But I knew instantly that he knew. Despite the promises he’d made, Kevin had told Bill I was former CIA.
“When did he tell you?” I said.
“Tell me what?”
