Кей Хупер - Hiding in the Shadows

"And this is happening now?"

Her certainty wavered. "I... I'm not sure. There was no way to tell."

"A basement, maybe a warehouse. But you have no idea where?"

"No, I didn't see anything but that room. And if Dinah knew where she was, it wasn't something she was thinking about or feeling." She paused, then said desperately, "I want to help her. You have to believe me about that. I have to try to help Dinah."

"Why?" Bishop's voice was flat.

Faith felt the burning of tears but refused to shed them before these men. She drew a steadying breath.

"Because she's my friend. Because she did everything in her power to make sure I could get my life back on track when I woke up. And because ... she's all I have."

"I suppose," he said, watching her, "that's a good reason to want to help find her. And maybe gratitude as well. After all, she did settle half a million dollars on you."

Faith shook her head. "Not half a million directly to me. The trust fund she set up is worth a little more than two hundred thousand dollars, according to the lawyer. And there was a fifty-thousand-dollar deposit directly into my checking account. But she arranged to pay my current debts and the hospital bill, and I have no idea how much that was altogether."

"You didn't have insurance?"

"Liability on the car, according to the paperwork I found. But no health insurance. I gather I had changed jobs recently, and the new coverage hadn't begun yet."

"Six weeks in a coma," Bishop mused. "Another three weeks of care and physical therapy. In a good hospital. I'd say that could easily run a quarter million, maybe more."

"One of the things I want to ask her," Faith said, "is why. I don't understand why she would do such a thing."

Kane stirred and spoke, his voice raspy. "Because she felt guilty."

"About what? The accident? They told me it was only my car and my fault. No one else was involved. So why would she feel guilty about that?"

Faith was relieved to see that he had regained a bit of color and that he no longer looked so stunned.

"We were wondering the same thing," he told her.

Bishop said, "What caused the accident?"

She tried and failed to smile. "The doctor said it was ... a few drinks on top of a prescription muscle relaxant. He said the combination was toxic and that I don't handle alcohol very well."

"Why were you prescribed muscle relaxants?" Kane asked, making a visible effort to be methodical.

"I don't remember. Obviously."

He frowned. "You didn't have the prescription bottle with you?"

Her purse had been with her other things at the hospital. It had contained the usual items — a billfold, a checkbook, a small, unused spiral-ringed notebook, a couple of pens, and a compact and lipstick.

No prescription bottle of any kind. And there wasn't one in the apartment.

Slowly, she said, "Maybe the police took it as evidence."

Kane was still frowning. "Alcohol. That isn't right. Dinah said you were on your way to meet her for drinks after work. But you never made it. And you'd come straight from work — that's what she said."

"So," Bishop said, "unless you make it a habit to keep a bottle at work in a desk drawer."

She blinked. "I doubt it. There's no alcohol of any kind in my apartment."

Kane saw her swallow convulsively, and when her eyes fixed on his face, there was fear in them.

"What?" he demanded.

"Somebody broke into my apartment." She spoke very carefully now. "The funny thing is, nothing was stolen. Not that I have any way of knowing for sure, but the police said the usual things weren't taken. The place was turned upside down, though. Drawers emptied, things tossed about."

"It sounds like a search," Bishop said.

"When did this happen?" Kane asked.

"I'm not sure. I mean, it was discovered early in the week when the lawyer arranged to have a cleaning service come in and get the apartment ready for me."

"When could it have happened?" Bishop asked.

"Was anyone else in your apartment between the time of your accident and when the cleaning service discovered the break-in?"

Faith thought about it, reaching up to rub her forehead as though fretful. "I don't think so. Except Dinah."

"Dinah was there?"

"Her lawyer mentioned it. He said she had gone through my desk at home to find out what bills I had so they could be paid. That must have been just after the accident." She was about to mention the missing laptop, but Kane was speaking and her wavering concentration lost the thought.

"So we have a span of weeks." Kane looked at Bishop. "Great."

Bishop's mind was on something else. "The apartment was searched after Dinah went there to go through your desk." His pale gaze was intent on her face. "And just a few weeks later, Dinah disappeared."

Faith tried to make her mind focus on what he meant. "Are you saying that Dinah might have disappeared because someone thought she found something at my place? Something she wasn't supposed to find?"

"Maybe." He turned to Kane. "Maybe we've gone about this the wrong way. Maybe there was no direct threat to Dinah, no story someone wanted stopped before she could write it. Maybe it isn't her past we should be looking into."

"But mine," Faith said shakily.

Kane realized suddenly that she was exhausted. It showed in her eyes, darkened with strain, and in the shadows beneath them. She was trying to sit up straight, but her shoulders kept slumping, and her skin was ashen. He was sure that if her hands hadn't been clenched together in her lap, they would have been shaking uncontrollably.

"You need to get some rest," he said.

Apologetic, she said, "I haven't quite got my strength back yet. It hits me all at once and ... and then I just need to sleep. I'm sorry."

"For God's sake, don't be sorry. You've been through hell, and it's understandable. Besides, you've told us things we didn't know before. And you may be able to help us find Dinah." Bishop looked at him but said nothing.

"I want to," she said again, then sighed. A shadow of fear crossed her face. "if... if you could call a cab for me ..."

Kane's hesitation was brief. "Look, I don't think it's a good idea for you to go back to your apartment, at least not tonight. Until we figure out what's going on, until we're sure that what happened to you and what happened to Dinah are unconnected, it's better you stay with us."

Color crept into her face. "I can't stay here."

"Of course you can." He kept his voice matter-of-fact. "There are two bedrooms. Noah's in one, you take mine. I'll bunk down in here." He grimaced.

"These days, I'm usually in here most of the night anyway. Might as well get a pillow and blanket and make it official."

She bit her lip in indecision, and Kane thought about how terrified she must be, so alone that even the face in her mirror was unfamiliar to her.

Gently, he said, "We'll take it one day at a time, okay? Tonight, you need to sleep, and I think you'll feel safer here than at your apartment. Tomorrow we'll start trying to figure out what's going on."

Bishop said nothing.

Faith finally nodded. "Thank you."

Kane showed her the way to his bedroom, made sure there were clean towels in the connecting bathroom. He invited her to use Dinah's toilet articles but found one of his own shirts for her to sleep in rather than anything of Dinah's; that was an intimacy he didn't think either of them was ready for.

When he returned to the living room, he found Bishop sitting just where they'd left him, his frowning gaze fixed on the spot where Faith had been sitting.

Silently, Kane fixed drinks for them both, then reclaimed his place on the couch. "Do you believe her?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't know. She could have told us what we wanted to hear."