Ryan stopped with one hand on the front door, the keys to his rental car in his hand as realization dawned. “That’s how he was linked to the McKellen name. He married into it.”
“Yes. Walter Alexander is—or was—Karl McKellen, president of McKellen Publishing. His daughter Paula married a Jacob Alexander eight years ago. She died after Tabofren was pulled by the FDA. I think she was in the clinical studies that were stopped.”
“Shit, that’s why he was so pissed.” And that’s why Ryan hadn’t recognized Jake Alexander’s name or put it together with the man he’d met and dealt with in his office. Because the son of a bitch had been using both names, staying under the radar as he ran his illegal drug study. And his father-in-law—Karl McKellen—had partnered up with him and Grayson Pharmaceuticals to get it pushed through the FDA.
“Yeah,” Simone said as rain pelted his face while he ran for the car. He climbed in, started the engine. “But there’s another daughter.”
He pushed damp hair out of his eyes and backed out of the driveway at rapid speed. “Where?”
“Here in San Francisco. Ryan, she works for you.”
“What? There’s no McKellen in my company. No Alexander either.”
“Ryan, his other daughter is Hannah Hughes.”
“No. Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Oh, shit. Hannah, who’d been to Vancouver several times in the last month. Hannah, who’d headed the merger with Grayson. Hannah, who’d purchased that car for him and could have easily used it the day Janet Kelly had died when he’d left it parked in the building garage. And Hannah, who knew every detail of Kate’s return because he’d been stupid enough to share it with her.
Urgency coursed through him. He gunned the engine. “Simone, Hannah knows Katie’s out at the beach house tonight.”
“I’m in the car on the freeway. I already called the police.”
“I might beat you there. Don’t go inside without me or the cops. Do you hear me?”
The line went dead. “Simone?”
Shit. He couldn’t be sure if she’d heard him or not. He dialed the security detail he’d hired to sit outside Katie’s house.
No answer.
Shit!
Foot heavy on the accelerator, he tossed the phone on the front seat and gripped the steering wheel.
Warm water slid over Kate’s skin. Bubbles surrounded her. Unable to sleep, she’d drawn a bath, hoping the warmth would ease the chill deep in her bones. So far, it wasn’t working.
Her toe turned the faucet on and off in rhythmic succession while she stared at a spot on the edge of the tub. The occasional drip into the basin was the only sound in the room. Ryan’s face flashed in her mind, and she closed her eyes, wanting the water to wash away her heartache.
After an hour on the phone with Tom Adams making plans for the next few weeks, she was drained. Disappearing probably wasn’t the smartest plan at the moment, but it was the best she could come up with. Her parents would understand. Somehow she’d find a way to make Julia understand. And it wasn’t forever, just until things died down. She just didn’t want to know the truth anymore. Staying here while the press was swarming because of the story was only going to prolong her agony.
Running a hand over her hair, she let out a long breath and willed back the tears. Another waterfall wasn’t going to help matters.
The lights went out.
She sat up, sending water lapping over the side of the tub. The wind whistled outside. The screen door tapping down below echoed up to her ears.
You’re jumpy, Kate. Get a grip. Mitch is downstairs. Nothing’s going to happen. The storm probably knocked out power all over the street.
She eased out of the tub and grabbed her white, terry bathrobe. After belting it around her waist, she headed for the stairs. Shadows danced across the hall, and she tripped over Reed’s black Power Ranger. Pain shot through her toe. Biting her lip to keep from screaming, she hopped down the hall and tried to rub away the twinge. Couldn’t one damn thing go right for her?
The stairs creaked under her feet. A dull ache settled around her toe. She sucked in a breath as she rounded the newel post, not wanting to wake Mitch in the living room.
Cool air blasted across her face when she stepped into the kitchen. The back door was wide open, the screen slapping against the doorjamb.
What the hell? She took a step toward the door and stopped.
She’d locked that door before going upstairs. Common sense trickled in. Her stomach muscles tightened. The air clogged in her lungs.
Go get Mitch.
She backed out of the kitchen. Bumped into a table in the hall. A lamp crashed to the floor.
Her adrenaline surged.
Good God. She was acting like a frightened teenager in a horror movie. Mitch was probably behind her laughing.
Pressing a hand to her belly, she turned and looked through the doorway toward the couch in the living room.
Empty.
She glanced back into the kitchen. “Mitch?”
No answer.
Sweat trickled down her spine. Her skin chilled.
Think, Kate. Don’t be a wimpy girl. She spotted the cordless phone on the coffee table. Scrambling for the receiver, she turned it on with shaky fingers. The line was dead.
A gust of wind sent the screen slapping again. Kate jumped and whipped toward the kitchen.
Her purse was on the far counter with her cell phone and keys. She needed to get it. Taking a calming breath, she stepped through shadow and light.
Her foot slipped in a puddle on the hardwood floor. Grasping a kitchen chair for support, she was able to catch herself before she fell. She squinted through the darkness toward a trail of liquid from the back door that ran around the table.
Okay. That wasn’t good. Something wasn’t right. It was time to just go. She reached for her purse from the counter.
Something hard slammed into her from behind. The contents of her purse went flying. Kate hit a barstool, bounced off the edge of the counter and tumbled to the floor.
Her arm took the brunt of the fall. Pain rocketed through her shoulder. When she tore open her eyes, Hannah Hughes was kneeling over her, holding a gun in her hand. “Welcome to the party, Kate.”
Kate saw Mitch on the floor behind the table. His body was limp, his eyes closed. Blood oozed from his head.
Her stomach churned. Oh, God. That wasn’t water she’d slipped in.
“No, look at me, Kate,” Hannah said. “Do you have any idea what kind of mess you’ve made for me?”
What the hell was she talking about? Kate’s brows drew together. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Don’t play coy with me. I’m not falling for the whole ‘I don’t remember anything’ routine like Ryan and Jake. You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass since this whole thing started.”
This whole thing. Jake. No.
“You,” Kate managed on a ragged breath. “It was you? But you work with Ryan. I don’t understand.”
“Not very bright, are you?” A twisted smile graced Hannah’s mouth. “Must have been all the drugs. Tabofren would have saved Paula. Ryan knew that.”
Kate’s brows drew together. Grasping her aching arm, she tried to sit up. “Who is Paula?”
“My sister. Ryan was so excited about Tabofren, he fast-tracked it into clinical trials. It worked. But he got cold feet when the FDA caught wind of the side effects and pulled the plug, stopped production. Paula died. That drug would have saved her life.”
Kate swallowed. “You don’t know that for sure.”
“Oh, no? I think we do. Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose someone you love, Kate? Or should I call you Annie? Which do you prefer?” Hannah’s menacing laugh made Kate’s nerves jump. “I forget who I’m talking to here. Of course you know what it’s like to lose someone! Or better yet, Ryan sure does. We made sure of that.”