Stand on the cot?
Not high enough.
Or was it? The cot was one of those rollaway wire beds that folded up to store. If she folded it up, then climbed on top, it would give her at least another three feet.
No squeaks …
Her heart was beating hard as she slowly, carefully folded up the cot. She pushed it against the wall, then propped the nightstand against it to steady it. The next minute she was climbing up on the folded edge.
Slowly.
Painstakingly silent.
With utmost care.
The socket was right above her now.
Press on the side?
No, there was a closure in the center that she could unscrew. There might be some gas trapped in the line that she could release.
Open it just a little …
Carnations.
She jerked her hand back. Then she hurriedly screwed the closure shut again.
Her head was spinning.
Too much.
Get down.
No noise.
No noise.
She was off the bed.
On the floor.
Curled up in a ball.
Sick … Doane hadn’t told her it made you sick.
Had he heard her?
He hadn’t come running. She might be safe.
Carnations.
Dizzy … sick.
She’d be all right. As soon as she got over this first bout of sickness, she’d rest, then try it again.
Two more times during this rest period ingesting the gas should be enough to start the path toward immunity. She’d be able to judge better after she recovered a little.
Afterward, she had to get up and remake the cot. Doane mustn’t know what she’d been doing when he unlocked that door.
In a few minutes. After she regained her strength.
She buried her face in her arm to avoid that smell. She was going to hate the scent of carnations for the rest of her life.
But it’s worth it, you bastard. I’m going to kick your ass.
CHAPTER
10
Redmond Hospital
Rome, Georgia
“LORD, YOU’RE PALE. YOU should be in a wheelchair,” Joe said flatly as he watched Jane walk slowly toward him down the corridor. His glance shifted to Caleb, who was beside her. “Why didn’t you keep her in San Juan?”
“The same reason you didn’t try to do it. I don’t like to waste my time. I compromised by making sure she didn’t do herself any permanent damage.” He smiled down at Jane. “She’s better than she seems.”
“I’m fine.” Her gaze was searching for the correct room number. “He’s in 1602?”
“The next one down the hall,” Joe said tersely. “I’ll come in and introduce you to Ben.”
“I don’t need you,” Jane said as she opened the hospital-room door. “You have more important things to do than hold my hand, Joe. This is my job. Let me do it.” She paused. “Any more news?”
“Nothing about Eve.” He added, “And no firm information that there have been any homicides. Ben was assaulted, but there may not have been any attempt at killing him. Hallet, the farmer who owned the stolen truck, has disappeared, but there’s no evidence that he’s been murdered. Venable’s agent, Dukes, hasn’t shown up, but he could be in pursuit.”
“Is that supposed to comfort me or you?” Jane’s lips twisted. “No evidence. Disappearances. Possibilities, but no proof. What does that suggest to you?”
“That Eve may be safer than we think. You were shot, but it may be Blick who was the violent partner.”
“I pray that’s true,” she said soberly. “But I don’t believe it. Caleb thinks that everything that happened to Toby and me was meant to keep me away from Eve, so that she would be more vulnerable. He didn’t want to have anyone getting in his way. I was only a secondary target.” She met his gaze. “And you believe that, too, don’t you, Joe?”
He slowly nodded.
“And from what you’ve told me, he wants Eve to do a reconstruction. It would be smarter to make her think he wasn’t quite as much of a threat if the path was not strewn with bodies. Ben said he appeared very likeable and unintimidating.” She grimaced. “Before he tried to break his head open.”
“You have it figured out.”
“So do you. The difference is that you want to soothe me and try to keep me from worrying. And maybe direct me to the sidelines. It’s not going to happen, Joe.”
“We’ll see.” He turned away. “Go do your sketch. I want to see the bastard’s face.”
“You will.” She glanced at Caleb, who had moved to follow her into the room. “No, stay in the waiting room or help Joe. I’ve never met Ben Hudson, and I don’t want him to have to deal with two strangers.” She hesitated. “Mark Trevor contacted me in San Juan. He may want to help find Eve.”
Joe’s gaze shifted speculatively to Caleb before returning to her. “And what do you want?”
“If he can do anything, let him do it. I don’t care who volunteers if there’s even a chance they can help, I’ll be grateful.”
His gaze returned to Caleb. “If I don’t believe they’ll get in the way.”
“Oh, that won’t happen.” Caleb smiled. “I’ll either be behind you or probably ahead of you. Never in the way.” He was moving down the corridor. “I’ll bring you a cup of coffee later, Jane. After you’ve broken the ice.”
“Do that,” she said absently. Her gaze was already fixed on Ben Hudson in the bed across the room. He was smiling at her. Warmth. Sweetness. Shining blue eyes that were staring curiously at her.
“Hi.” She found she was smiling, too, as she walked toward the bed. “You’re Ben Hudson. I’m Jane. I’ve come to draw a picture of the man who attacked you. Will you help me?”
“Sure.” His head was tilted to one side as he looked at her. “Joe said he’d send someone, but he didn’t say it would be you. You’re Jane MacGuire, aren’t you? You belong to her.”
“Belong to Eve?” She sat down and took her sketchbook out of her briefcase. “Yes, I most definitely do belong to Eve. She adopted me when I was only ten years old.”
He frowned. “No, that’s not what I meant. You belong to her.”
She stiffened, then smiled with an effort. “You’re talking about Bonnie. Eve told me that you sometimes dreamed about Bonnie. I’m afraid that I can’t claim to belong to Bonnie. She died long before I could get to know her.”
“That doesn’t matter. You still belong to her because Eve loves you.” He paused. “Bonnie wants to be closer to you, but she says that you won’t let her near. Why is that, Jane?”
Jane hadn’t bargained for this. She instinctively started to shut him out, then stopped. There was such a pure good-hearted simplicity in the question that she couldn’t hurt him. The boy had probably had too many people shut him out in his life. “I’m afraid that I’m too much the realist, Ben,” she said gently. “I’m not like you and Eve. I have trouble believing in dreams.”
He frowned, troubled. “You think I’m not telling the truth?”
“No, I think some people live in the real world and some people have dreams to make the reality bearable.” She reached out and covered his big hand with her own. “You’re one of the lucky ones, Ben.”
He looked down at her hand. “You have pretty hands. You’re pretty all over. It’s nice to look at you. You look like Eve but you’re—”
“Looks aren’t important.” He was clearly easily distracted, and she was relieved to get off the subject. “Except when you’re trying to do a sketch. Are you ready to tell me about the man who hurt you?”
“And took Eve.”
She nodded. “And took Eve. She’ll be grateful that you’re going to help us.”
His expression clouded. “I have to find her. Bonnie trusted me to take care of her.”
“We’ll find her.” She hoped she sounded confident. At the moment, she was closer to desperation. “Let’s take the eyebrows first. Were they thick, thin?”