Sleep No More

CHAPTER

8

“PECAN PANCAKES,” SAM SIGHED BLISSFULLY as he took the first bite of the stack of pancakes at the IHOP at the edge of town. “Almost as good as sex on the right occasion.” Then he made a face. “What did I just say? Crazy. I must be working too hard.”

“You certainly worked hard enough tonight,” Eve said quietly. “And I’m very grateful, Sam.”

“I enjoyed it.” He lifted his cup of coffee in a mock salute to Eve and Kendra. “We make a good team. Call me anytime.”

“I hope that won’t be necessary. If we can find out enough from those records, we might be able to find out everything we need to know about Beth. As soon as I get back to the hotel, Joe and I will start plowing through them.”

“Plow is right,” Kendra said. “It may take a long time to pull everything together.”

“We’ll begin by trying to find out how she escaped from the hospital,” Eve said. “And if someone helped her. That could be a lead for us to locate her.”

Kendra nodded. “But you don’t have to waste a lot of time on that. You have Sam.”

“She does?” Sam put down his fork. “More work?”

“You’re the expert. It won’t take you any time. Your pancakes won’t even get cold. Boot up your computer and tap into the list of people who surrounded Beth Avery during the last few weeks.”

He shrugged and slipped his computer from its case. A few moments later, he turned the laptop around so that it faced Kendra and Eve. “There’s the list. About twenty people.”

“But only one of any importance,” Kendra said softly, her gaze focused on the list. “Bingo. I thought it would be there, but I had to be sure I was right about how Beth got away that night.”

Eve’s gaze flew to Kendra’s face. “You knew?”

“I told you, I didn’t have all the pieces of the puzzle. I needed confirmation. We were too busy today to get it earlier.”

Eve’s gaze shifted back to the computer list. “Who?”

Kendra pointed to the twelfth name on the list.

Jessie William Newell.

Eve frowned. “Who is—” Then the memory came back to her. “The orderly?”

Kendra nodded. “That nice young man who was conveniently on the same floor as we were while Piltot was showing us around.”

“That doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“No, but your sister had to have help from someone. You’ve seen the security measures there.”

“It would be hard even with help.”

“Yes, I saw only two outdoor areas that weren’t covered by security cameras, both out back. It would take someone who could have scouted the entire facility—as we did—to know that. Both of these areas have long drops to the hillside below, which is probably why cameras aren’t covering them.”

“You think Beth jumped from one of them?”

“She was lowered from the north side of the rear walkway. There are tiny pieces of white stucco on the hillside below that spot. Nowhere else. The pieces probably came off when she braced her feet against the wall as she was lowered.”

“Lowered? You believe someone lowered her down?”

“Not someone. Jessie William Newell. He had light abrasions on his knuckles and upper arms, all of the size and character consistent with the sharp stucco on that wall. They’re especially apparent on his left hand.”

Eve had a sudden memory of the orderly reaching out to shake Kendra’s hand. “You used your left hand. I thought it was awkward at the time.”

“It was awkward, but I had to get a better look. I’m sure he leaned over the walkway with a rope and helped lower her. If you’d bothered to look up there, you would have seen places where the stucco wall was obviously marked from a rope with a weight on it.”

“I did glance up there,” Eve said dryly. “But I obviously wasn’t seeing.”

“Concentration.” Kendra was smiling. “It has many applications. Some less pleasant than others.”

“Are you through with me?” Sam asked. “Are you satisfied that Kendra is right about this dude, Eve?”

Eve looked at the list of names again.

Jessie William Newell.

Billy had given her the security code for the house.

William. Billy?

“Yes, I’m satisfied,” she said slowly. “But I’m not through with you. I need everything you can pull up on this orderly. Will you send it to my phone?”

* * *

THE SUN WAS BEGINNING to come up over the dark sea when they left the IHOP forty minutes later.

Eve stopped as they reached Sam’s car. “I’m not going to say thank you again. But I owe you, Sam.”

“That’s always a plus.” Sam shook her hand. “I’ll remember and use that IOU if I need it.” He turned to Kendra. “How about you?”

“Am I grateful?” Kendra thought about it. “No, I gave you an entertaining experience. If anything, you owe me.” She turned back to Eve. “I’ll get my bag from your car. Sam can take me to the airport and drop me off.” She checked her watch. “I should get back in plenty of time for my appointment with Justin.”

“Just as you planned,” Eve said as she unlocked her car and took Kendra’s case from the trunk. “I’m glad you were able to fit me into your schedule.” Such polite, almost stilted words, and yet they meant so much. Kendra would resent thanks, but she had opened new doors for Eve in so many ways. She handed the duffel and guitar case to Sam. “Take care of her.”

He shrugged. “As if she’d let me.” He strolled toward his car.

Eve turned back to Kendra. “Good luck with Justin.”

“Thank you, I’ll need it. He’ll need it.” She frowned. “I don’t like leaving you like this. It feels … unfinished.”

“You’ve done everything we asked of you.”

“I certainly did. And more.”

Eve chuckled. “And more,” she agreed. “So why does it feel unfinished?”

“I guess I’m afraid that you’ll lose everything we’ve won if I’m not there to help. Though I admit that you were pretty good tonight.”

“Thank you,” she said gravely. “I’m honored by your opinion.”

“No, you’re not.” She stood looking at her. “I do admire you, Eve Duncan. I hope you find your sister alive and well.” She paused. “If you get stuck and need to talk through something, you have my number. I can’t guarantee I’ll be available, but I’ll do whatever I can to help.” She smiled slightly. “You can never tell, I might even be persuaded to help you and Quinn wrap up this mess.” She turned and walked toward Sam’s car. “But not until I finish working through this breakthrough with Justin…”

* * *

JOE WAS STANDING ALONE on the verandah overlooking the beach when Eve reached the motel.

He did not look pleased.

Well, what could she expect? She would have been angry, too, if he had closed her out.

“Are you communing with the seagulls?”

He didn’t look at her. “For lack of better company. Did you take Kendra to the airport?”

“No, Sam did.” She came to stand beside him and looked down at the blinding bright sunlight on the sea. “I called you and told you I was safe as soon as we left the hospital. I did what I thought was right, Joe.”

“I know you did. It doesn’t help. It’s going to take a while to forget sitting here twiddling my thumbs all night worrying about you. I was tempted to go in and stage a little raid of my own. And I wouldn’t give a damn about losing my badge.” He glanced at her. “Do this again, and I just might do it.”

He meant what he said. Joe never bluffed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else?”

“Yes.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. It was hard, passionate, and completely sensual. Then he let her go and turned away. “I’ve been thinking about doing that all the time I’ve been wondering if you were going to get your head blown off by a security guard.” He moved down the verandah steps to the walk. “Now let’s go to the room, and you can get me up to speed. Then you can go to bed until at least noon since you haven’t slept all night, while I download some of those files Sam stole for you.”

“That sounds like a plan.” She reached out and touched his arm. “I’ve got the name of the man who—”

“Don’t touch me.” He moved away from her. “Not now. I’m feeling fairly explosive, and I’m trying to be civilized. You know I’m not real good at control.”

“And you know I don’t give a damn.”

“But I do.” He unlocked the door and let her precede him into the room. “Now sit down and talk to me.”

“The man who helped Beth escape was Jessie William Newell. He’s an orderly at the hospital.” She pulled out her iPhone and accessed the file Sam had e-mailed to her. “Age twenty-eight, high-school education at a school in Denver, served in the Marines for four years, worked as a trainer at a gym in Boulder for three years. His mother still lives in Boulder. He’s been working at the hospital for the last eighteen months.” She looked up from the screen. “And he’s been working principally on the third floor for the last year. No remarks on any unusual interaction with Beth Avery.” She handed him her phone. “Here’s his photo. Nice-looking guy. Very polite. And Kendra is very sure that he’s been helping Beth.”

“Why?”

Eve briefly filled him in on their encounter with Newell on the third floor of the hospital and the deductions Kendra had made from that meeting. “I didn’t notice even a small percentage of the things that Kendra did, so I have to take her word for it.”

“But you’re willing to do it?”

She nodded slowly. “I trust her, and I trust the logic that she brings to the table.”

His eyes were narrowed on her face. “But that’s not all, is it?”

She smiled faintly. “You know me too well. Logic is all very well, but I’ve never been able to guide my life by it. I’ve been touched by too many totally illogical elements over the years.” She paused. “Newell’s middle name is William.”

“I noticed. And you made the leap to the Billy of your dream?”

“Why not? He was in close association with Beth during those last months. It’s not ‘logical’ that Beth would be able to be helped by someone not in that group.” She added, “And that she would be thinking about him while she was escaping.”

“Did you discuss this with Kendra?”

She grimaced. “No, I wanted to maintain my credibility with her. I’m not sure she’d understand why I’d rely on a dream to furnish me with vital information. It’s definitely not her modus operandi.”

“I don’t know. We might be surprised.” He was gazing down at Newell’s dossier. “He lives at Sungate Apartments in the city. Apartment 2A. You said that you ran into him yesterday afternoon. That means he’s probably working days at the hospital, and we can reach him at his apartment tonight.”

Eve nodded. “That’s what I thought. And we can work on checking out those other Beth Avery files today.”

“Later.” He didn’t look up from the iPhone. “Go to bed and get some sleep.”

She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again with the words unsaid. She was tired, and she would need to be alert when they met Newell. “You’re right.” She headed for the bathroom. “I’ll shower, then take a nap.”

She leaned back on the door after she had closed it. She hated this coolness between them. No, not coolness. That term could never describe what she and Joe felt for each other. Even though they were at odds for the moment, there was heat that made the hardness give off sparks.

But it was still disturbing to know everything was not serene with them. Oh, well, they’d work it out. If she didn’t believe that, she’d be truly upset.

She stripped off her clothes and stepped under the shower. Relax. Sleep. Get on with the task of finding Beth.

And hope like hell that she hadn’t damaged anything that couldn’t be repaired in her relationship with Joe.

* * *

APARTMENT 2A.

Drogan glanced down at the address for the orderly Newell that Pierce had given him that morning, then started to climb the steps to the second-floor walkway.

Pierce hadn’t wanted to give him the list. He’d been afraid that Drogan would cause an “awkward” incident that would reflect on him.

Screw him. Drogan was getting nowhere in the search for Beth Avery, and he needed to dig deeper. Someone had to have helped her to escape, and that meant someone knew where she’d go to hide. He had three other names that he was going to tap for information if Newell didn’t pan out.

Including that little bitch Pierce was screwing. He almost hoped he would come up empty questioning the orderly so that he could take his time spoiling Pierce’s lush little playground.

As he was going to take his time with Beth Avery. Every hour that passed, his anger was growing, his ego stinging from the memory of his failure that night.

He stopped at the door to 2A.

Locked.

No problem. He spent only a few minutes before the door swung open.

He stepped inside and closed the door. The apartment was empty, as Pierce had told him it would be. That was all right, he could wait. He went to the refrigerator and took out a beer before he dropped down in a chair facing the door.

Come on, Jessie Newell. I’m waiting to welcome you.

* * *

JOE WAS SITTING IN A CHAIR across the room with his laptop on his lap when Eve opened her eyes. It must’ve been late afternoon because the rays of the sun pouring through the window were pale and slanted as they touched Joe’s brown hair. “What time is it?”

“A little after four.”

“I didn’t want to sleep that long. Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You evidently needed it.” He raised his eyes from the computer to meet hers. “And I needed the time, too. I was feeling as if you owed me, and that was a very savage response.”

She felt a flash of heat move through her. She held out her hand to him. “Come here.”

He didn’t move. “I’m over it. You don’t owe me anything.”

“The hell I don’t. Oh, not because I closed you out from the action because I wanted to protect you. You have to deal with that because that’s who I am. I’m not about to make love to you to make some kind of recompense.” She tossed the sheet aside and pulled her T-shirt over her head and threw it aside. “Do you know what I owe you? The same thing you owe me. Now come here and give it to me.”

He hesitated, then stood up. “You’re sure?” Then he smiled recklessly and strode toward her, stripping off his clothes. “You’d better be sure because I’ve just gone beyond the point of no return.”

“No, you haven’t.” She pulled him down on top of her, into her. “Not yet. Soon…”

Deep. Deeper.

Heat. Hardness. Rhythm.

She rolled over on top of him. “Joe…”

“Shh.”

She threw her head back and bit down on her lip as his hips plunged upward.

Again.

Again.

Again.

It went on and on … and on.

When the explosion came, it was too much and yet not enough.

She was panting, her heart pounding crazily as he drew her close. Neither of them could speak for a moment.

“We have to do it again,” Joe said as his tongue teased her nipple. “And then again.”

“Yes.”

Joe parted her thighs, then came between them in one stroke.

“Aren’t you going ask me why?”

“Obvious…”

“No … I didn’t do it right.”

“What?”

He smiled down at her as he slowly began to move. “Kendra wouldn’t approve. I didn’t concentrate.”

* * *

THE SUN WAS GOING DOWN when Eve and Joe got into the car and started for the Sungate Apartments. She gazed out the window at the sun streaking scarlet across the sea. “Beautiful … I keep thinking how many times Beth must have looked out her window at that hospital and seen this same view. The first time I saw that hospital on the hill, I thought of how free I am down here and what a prisoner she was. Do you know how small her suite was in that place?”

“You told me.” He reached out and covered her hand with his own on the seat. “But now she’s free, too.”

“But for how long?” She moved her shoulders as if shrugging off a burden. “Sorry. Brooding isn’t going to help. We’ve just got to find her.” She glanced at him. “Did you find out anything from those computer files while I was sleeping?”

“I was mainly trying to access the physical records from her accident.”

“And did you?”

“I found some forms with several complicated diagnoses and treatments. All under the supervision of Pierce.” He paused. “But no record of any X-rays taken of the injury. Most unusual. You’d think the X-rays would have been sent with her from the clinic where she was first treated. I searched most of the afternoon in those computer banks and couldn’t find a trace or cross-reference to them.”

“Could they be entered in a separate file?”

“Possibly. Not likely. My bet is that Pierce destroyed them. It’s difficult to forge an X-ray.”

“You’re saying that she probably didn’t have a head injury.”

“I’m saying that I can’t find a record if she did.” He pulled into the parking lot of the Sungate Apartments. It was a small, modest, two-story apartment complex with palm trees framing the entrance and the obligatory swimming pool. He parked and ran around to open her car door. “But maybe Newell can help us out. If he helped her get away, he must have believed that she shouldn’t be in that hospital.” He scanned the numbers on the apartment doors. “I think Newell’s on the second floor.” He headed for the staircase. “Let’s go.”

A few minutes later, they were standing before Apartment 2A. But Jessie Newell didn’t answer the door when Eve and Joe rang the bell.

“Not at home?” Eve said. “Maybe he had to work late. We didn’t really know his schedule.”

“According to his personnel records, he drives a silver Honda.” Joe was frowning. “And there’s a silver Honda in the parking lot. I don’t like it.”

And neither did Eve. Joe’s instincts were near infallible. “Do you have his telephone number?”

“Yes.” He rang the bell again. “I’ll try it if he doesn’t—shit.”

She heard it, too.

A gasping groan, then steps inside the apartment.

But the steps were not coming toward the door.

“Step to the side.” Joe reached for the doorknob. “I’m going in. Stay here.”

“Hell no.” Eve followed him into the apartment.

But she stopped in shock just inside the door. “Dear God.”

Blood.

Blood spattered on the floor of the foyer.

Blood on the chair at the table in the kitchen.

Blood on the man tied to that chair.

Jessie Newell.

There was so much blood running from the two cuts on the face and clothing of the man in that chair that she could barely recognize him. He was gagged, and his eyes were wide with agony.

A knife was sticking out of his shoulder.

Joe was running toward the back of the apartment. “I think whoever did it ran out the back way. I heard the door slam.”

So had Eve, but it hadn’t registered in the shock of seeing the carnage that was Jessie Newell.

She was across the room in seconds and jerking the gag from Newell’s mouth. She was afraid to touch the knife sticking out of his shoulder for fear of damaging organs. “It’s okay, we’ll get you help.”

“Bastard,” Newell whispered. “Stop him. He took—he’ll find her—”

“Quiet. Don’t talk.” She was untying the ropes binding his wrists. “Joe will stop him.”

“I won’t let him kill me. He’s not going to win.” He closed his eyes. “I’m losing blood. No time for EMTs. An intern lives in the apartment downstairs. Jensen. Go get him.”

“I shouldn’t leave you. You’re bleeding…”

“If you don’t get me help, you’ll be staying with a dead man. I’ll be okay. I don’t think he cut any arteries. He wanted to keep me alive.”

Make a decision.

“I’ll be right back. I’ll call 911 on the way down to get this Jensen.” She ran out of the apartment and down the steps to the first level. Which apartment? She was talking to 911 as she went from door to door checking the caption beneath each doorbell.

There it was. K. D. Jensen.

Now pray that he was home.

* * *

JOE HAD COME BACK to Newell’s place by the time Eve and young Dr. Jensen entered the apartment. He was kneeling by Newell and applying pressure to a wound on his upper arm. Joe glanced at Eve. “I lost him. He had a car parked in the back.”

“License plate?”

He nodded. “But Newell should know who he is.” He turned to the doctor. “What can I do?”

“Go down and wait for the EMTs and bring them up here.” He glanced at Eve. “You apply the pressure.” Then he was examining the wound in Newell’s arm. “What the hell have you been up to, Jessie? You into drugs?”

“I’m not stupid,” Newell gasped. “Get—this thing out of my shoulder.”

“In a minute.” He was checking Newell over. “It might be better left in it for a little while. But you’re lucky it’s not buried in your heart.”

“No … luck. I dodged to the side when I saw him coming to finish me off when the doorbell rang. The blade’s mostly in the muscles of my shoulder. I knew he wouldn’t have time for a second try at me.” He was looking at Eve. “You were with that woman snooping around the third floor at Seahaven. Who are you?”

“Eve Duncan.”

“Help me ease him out of the chair to the floor,” the intern ordered Eve. “He appears stable enough, and I need to take a look at his kneecaps. There’s blood on his jeans.”

“There’s blood all over him. So many cuts…” She carefully helped Jensen ease Newell to the floor, and resumed the pressure.

Newell flinched with pain and closed his eyes. “Why … Did Pierce send you to find out if I was the one? Did you send Drogan after me?”

“I don’t know any Drogan. Is that who did this to you?”

“Drogan…” He opened his eyes. “I didn’t know his name, but he told me. Every time he cut me, he told me who was doing it. He was proud of the pain he was causing. Bad…”

“Why did he do this to you?” Eve asked.

“Beth. He wanted to know where she was…”

She stiffened. “But you didn’t tell him?”

“Bastard…”

“Did you tell him?”

His gaze fastened on her face. “You know Beth?”

“No.” She drew a shaky breath. “But I don’t want her hurt. Believe me, I want to keep her safe.”

Newell’s gaze was searching her face. “You’re with the man who ran through here and scared off Drogan. I saw him at the hospital. He’s a detective.”

“Yes, Detective Joe Quinn.”

“He scared the shit out of Piltot and Pierce. I do—believe you.”

“Stop asking him questions,” the doctor said. “You can do that later.”

Newell gave her a ghost of a smile. “If I’m still alive.”

“Just yes or no,” Eve said. “Tell me.”

“No.” His eyes closed again. “But he took— He may find her…”

“What did he take—”

“The EMTs are here.” The intern lifted his head as he sat back on his heels. “I hear them on the steps.”

So did Eve. It sounded like a herd of elephants running up the metal steps.

“Don’t leave me,” Newell whispered. “Stay with me at the emergency room until I get out of surgery. Don’t let them check me into the hospital. Too easy. Doctors … Nurses…”

“Shut up, Jessie,” Jensen said as he got to his feet as four EMTs poured into the room. “The police will find that scumbag. Nothing’s going to happen to you now. We’ll take good care of you.”

Newell’s gaze clung to Eve’s. “Don’t leave me.”

Eve nodded as Joe reached down and helped her to her feet. “Don’t worry, I’ll hardly let you out of my sight.” She added grimly, “We’re going to talk.”

“Soon,” he said, as they carried him out of the apartment. “It doesn’t matter that I didn’t tell him. He’ll find her…”

“Which hospital?” Joe asked Dr. Jensen as the intern hurried after the EMTs.

“Santa Barbara General.” He tossed back over his shoulder, “Did I hear that you’re a police detective? You’d better contact your headquarters. This has to be reported.”

“Yes, it does.” He took Eve’s elbow and nudged her toward the door as Jensen left the apartment. He added in a low voice to Eve, “But not before we get a chance to talk to Newell.”

“He told me that the name of the man who cut him is Drogan. While we’re waiting for word on Newell, can you run a check and see if you can find anything about him on the database?”

“You bet I will. Drogan…”

* * *

DROGAN’S FOOT PRESSED HARD on the accelerator, then lifted the pressure. He mustn’t be caught speeding. That would be the stupidest thing he could do. It would be the crowning blow to a totally frustrating night.

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed making the son of a bitch hurt. But Newell had been stubborn, and Drogan hadn’t been able to squeeze the information about Beth Avery out of him before that detective Joe Quinn had broken into the apartment. It had to be Quinn. Pierce’s description of the cop matched, and who else would be snooping around the hospital personnel?

Why the hell couldn’t Pierce have managed to throw Quinn off the track? It was just one more example of the doctor’s pitiful inadequacy and another wall for Drogan to overcome. The anger was searing through him, and he had to get a grip on himself so he could think clearly. He took a deep breath and tried to relax.

It was going to be all right. He had lost Newell as a source of information, but he had something else that might give him what he needed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cell phone he had taken from Newell.

Phones were magical instruments, and Drogan knew just how to pull that magic into the real world. First, go the simple route. Check and see just what calls Newell had received lately. Then check them all out until he hit pay dirt. Identify, locate the target, then execute.

But he had to hurry. He wasn’t sure that he’d managed to kill Newell, and he couldn’t chance him calling and warning the woman.

He pulled over to the side of the road and began to go through Newell’s call list.


Seventeen Mile Drive

BETH MADE A FACE as she switched the news channel off and leaned back in the chair. So much ugliness and corruption. Wars and dirty politics and unbelievable cruelty. Occasionally, there was a story that raised the heart, but they were rare. She had been tempted to turn the set off a dozen times and just stare out the window at the sea.

But she had promised Billy that she would take this time to learn about all the events of the years she had missed and try to grasp how the world was working. She had been studying the History Channel and Discovery as well as the news channels, and she preferred the past to the present. It was the violence of the present that was goading her to draw back into her shell and just look out the window at the sea.

Coward. She had done just that for all these years, and it was time for her to come alive. She had been drugged and manipulated into that false contentment, and she wouldn’t do that to herself now that she was free. She was learning. She wouldn’t be defenseless when she ventured out into the world. She just had to do as Billy told her and not try to hide her head.

She reluctantly reached out and turned the news channel back on. “Go ahead,” she muttered to the slick-looking newscaster who was showing scenes from the latest Middle Eastern atrocity. “Give me another couple days, and maybe I’ll get as callous as the rest of you. Though God knows I don’t—” She broke off, stiffening, as her gaze flew to the desk across the room.

Her cell phone was ringing.

It was the first time the phone had rung since Billy had given it to her.

Billy?

She jumped to her feet and ran across the room. He had said he wouldn’t contact her, but he was the only one who had her number.

Or it could be a wrong number.

She hesitated.

The phone rang again.

But what if it was Billy, and he needed to reach her?

Private number on the ID panel.

She slowly reached out and punched the access. “Billy?”

“No.” The voice was crisp and businesslike. “Santa Barbara Police Department. We’re investigating the homicide of a Jessie Newell. Your number was on his phone. What is your name please?”

“Homicide?” Murder. He was talking about murder. Billy’s murder. She couldn’t breathe. “How? What—”

“He was stabbed to death. What did you say your name was?”

Stabbed. She closed her eyes. “Dear God.”

“Your name.” This time his voice was no longer crisp and businesslike. It was rough and ugly.

And she recognized it.

“Bitch.”

A dark hospital room where she struggled for her life.

A man who cursed her and tried to inject her with that deadly hypodermic.

Panic.

Her heart leaped in her breast.

She hung up the phone.

He had found her.

She felt a wave of sickness wash over her.

And he had found Billy.

Stabbed him. Billy was dead.

He had died for her.

And now his killer would be coming to get her.

She steadied herself on the desk as the sadness and fear and anger attacked her.

Billy.