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She dialed 911 as she gripped his hand in hers, her pulse racing in fear because his eyes were now fluttering shut. “I’m here, Baz. Just hold on.”
San Diego, California
Sunday, April 17, 8:15 p.m.
Sam grimaced apologetically at the woman who stepped off the elevator on the floor below his. After camping for three days, he was dirty and he smelled awful, but nothing a shower couldn’t fix.
He’d stayed with his parents in Scottsdale for three days, wondering all that time if it was safe to come home. Finally, he’d had no choice. He needed to get back to work. Vivian and Angeline had been so good about rescheduling all of his clients after his impromptu escape from the city on Tuesday morning, but they couldn’t do that again. Not if it wasn’t an emergency.
His parents had stayed in Scottsdale, thankfully, and his apartment was now clean. It was time to come home.
But he’d needed some quiet time after all that anxiety. Needed to get his head back on straight. So, he’d left Scottsdale early on Friday for Joshua Tree National Park. He’d hiked with Siggy all day Friday, Saturday, and most of Sunday, and spent the nights staring up at the stars.
He felt better now. Not a hundred percent, but better.
He made his way to his apartment, Siggy panting happily. The place smelled good. Fresh. He did a slow turn, checking out his living room.
There was no sign of fingerprint dust and nothing was on the floor. His bathroom positively gleamed. Five stars to the cleaning company his mother had hired. His apartment was cleaner than it had ever been.
Time to fix that. He tossed his dirty clothes into the hamper and stepped into the shower, washing off three days of grime and sweat. It hadn’t been terribly hot in the park, but the sun had been direct and he’d hiked as hard as he’d dared. There’d been Siggy to think of, of course. His dog was young but there were limits, and Sam had needed to make sure they stopped often so that Siggy could drink water and rest.
Clean and dressed in a worn pair of sweats, he fed Siggy and opened his freezer. Then sighed. It was empty and too late he remembered why. The cleaning company had told his mother that the freezer door had been left open and everything was spoiled. His mother had instructed them to throw everything away, so he didn’t have a speck of food to his name.
Delivery it was. He picked up his phone to order something and paused. He had a new text. From McKittrick.
You get home okay?
It made him wary and happy, all at once, because he wasn’t sure what had motivated her to ask. More questions, maybe.
Or maybe she just cares. And that was thinking that would get him into trouble.
Just got home, he texted back. All okay?
There was no reply, so he ordered from the Chinese restaurant down the street and sat down to wait. Five minutes later, there was a sharp knock on his door and he frowned.
There was no way that was the delivery guy.
Dread crept up his spine as he checked his peephole.
McKittrick. Only McKittrick, her sidekick nowhere to be seen. She looked grim.
For a moment he debated not opening his door, but she knew he was home.
Fell right into that one.
Cursing his own stupidity, he opened the door a sliver. “Yes, Detective?”
She threw a look over her shoulder, then met his eyes. “Dr.Reeves. I need to talk to you. May I come in?”
“Do I have a choice?” he asked, proud that his voice didn’t waver.
She lifted one slim shoulder. “Sure. But that means I’d have to bring you down to the station to talk. It’s important.”
“Do I need my attorney?”
She hesitated. “Not right now.”
The dread settled in his gut like a lump of lead, but he opened the door. “I’ve got to be the stupidest man alive,” he muttered.
