Kitabı oku: «Emergency Contact», sayfa 3

“She sustained a mild concussion, Sid. She needed to be checked out. The closest medical center is over two hours away.”

The door behind them opened and a petite redhead poked her head in. “Someone in here request a consult from the neurologist on call?”

Before Ryan could answer, Bloom angrily waved the woman off. She shot a quick glance of sympathy in Ryan’s direction before closing the door again.

“I requested a consult with Dr. Adams.”

“You don’t have time to waste treating patients, Ryan. That isn’t why I hired you.”

“I thought you told me you were working on fostering good relationships between the center and the townspeople?”

Bloom’s lips tightened. “Chief Cole tells me this woman isn’t from Half Moon and isn’t cooperating with his investigation. How exactly is that helping the relationship between the center and the town?”

Ryan didn’t have an answer for that, but the fact that Cole had already gotten to Bloom told him that most of his avenues of defense were cut off anyway.

“I’ll take over the treatment of this patient,” Bloom said with an air of authority. “I want you to focus on the reason I brought you here in the first place—your research.”

The demand angered Ryan. He wasn’t about to ditch Tess right now. She was just beginning to trust him, and he had a strong feeling that trust was a major issue with this woman. Abandoning her now was more than therapeutically dangerous; it was downright unethical.

ACROSS THE HALL, Tess stepped tentatively into the small waiting area. The receptionist glanced up and gave her a chilly smile before resuming typing at her keyboard.

Hoping she wasn’t in for a long wait, Tess plopped down on the couch and grabbed a news magazine off the pile sitting on the coffee table. She restlessly started leafing through the magazine and stopped at a page. A picture of a grisly-faced man with tattooed arms stared out at the camera from between heavy bars. “Waiting For Clemency” was the title.

A quick skim of the opening paragraph told Tess that it was an article about a man on death row. Wonderful. Nothing like a little light reading to calm her already-jangled nerves.

She flipped the page and came face-to-face with a picture of the death chamber—a stark white room with a stretcher in the middle. Padded straps crisscrossed the thin mattress, ready to clamp some death-row inmate to the table.

Tess’s fingers tightened on the edges of the slick paper. The pages of the magazine started to shake, and a jolt of terror shot through her. A strange, searing flush blazed across the surface of her skin, and the page ripped beneath her suddenly sweaty hand.

Her head dropped back, bumping the wall. Her vision seemed to darken along the edges. Suddenly, it was as if she was strapped to the table and pain coursed through her body. The straps seemed to tighten over her bare limbs and she strained against them, fighting them. Her back arched off the table as the leather cut into her flesh.

She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The magazine dropped from her nerveless fingers and her entire body shook violently.

“Miss!” A voice cut through the pain of the nightmare. “Are you all right, miss?”

Numbers, the color of shiny brass flashed in front of her eyes—5-6-8-7. They drifted and floated as if carried on a current of air. Hovering over her, Tess could see the outline of a small ghostly figure. Then, from somewhere far away, she could hear the roar of a crowd.

She frowned, straining to hear. She was seeing people. People cheering someone. Calling his name. She strained harder, trying to make out the name. But the cheering died away, and the corner of the dream folded and disappeared.

Tess opened her eyes to find the receptionist standing over her, an expression of concern on her tight, narrow face. “Are you okay, miss?”

Tess leaned forward and wiped the palms of her sweaty hands along the sides of her legs, trying to hide the fact that they were trembling. Her hair fell over her shoulders and hid her face. “I—I’m fine,” she said, her voice raspy and uneven to her own ears.

“I thought you were having a seizure,” the woman said.

Tess swallowed. Her mouth had become so dry that her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Speech was near impossible.

What had happened? Sucking in a mouthful of oxygen, Tess peeked through the curtain of hair falling over her face. She watched as the woman bent down and snatched the magazine up off the floor.

“I’ll have to throw this out. The entire article has been destroyed,” she said.

Tess grabbed the arm of the couch and levered herself up off the cushions. Her knees quivered, and she almost fell over backward. But she locked her knees and straightened up. Sweat broke out between her shoulder blades and ran down the column of her spine, pooling in the small of her back.

“I’m sorry. I guess I got a little dizzy.” She reached up and wiped a line of sweat off her forehead. “Please tell Dr. Donovan that I had to leave.”

Concern flickered across the secretary’s pinched face. Tess was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the fact that her face was probably the color of rice paper. More than likely the woman was simply worried she’d be somehow blamed for Tess’s sudden departure.

The receptionist touched Tess’s elbow with her perfectly manicured nails. The hard tips skittered across her skin, giving her goose bumps. “Why don’t you sit back down, dear. I’m sure Dr. Donovan will be finished very soon and you can tell him yourself that you’d like to leave.”

“Tell Dr. Donovan I got tired of waiting,” Tess said, trying to tamp down her rising hysteria. She had to get out of there.

The woman protested further but Tess ignored her, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. Her breath came in short pants. By the time she reached the door leading to the hallway, her shirt was plastered to her body with a fine sheen of perspiration. Amazing how quickly a person’s body went into hyperdrive.

She yanked open the door and stepped out into the empty corridor. She could barely breathe, hot air catching in the back of her throat. She ran the palm of her hand along the cool wall, attempting to steady herself.

Seeing the scowling secretary standing in the doorway Tess took off. Rushing for the front door, she felt her legs grow steadier with each stride. She hit the release bar of the door with an urgent smack and the door swung open. A slight tickle at the back of her neck made Tess glance over her right shoulder.

The receptionist was still framed in the office doorway, but now two men in dark suits flanked her. In spite of the fact that they were inside, both men wore mirrored sunglasses, their facial features frozen, unreadable. The woman whispered something to the one on her right, and he nodded, his head never moving from staring straight at her.

Tess tried to ignore the chill that swept through her as she turned and walked out into the warm afternoon.

Chapter Three

Ryan was more than frustrated, he was royally ticked off. Not only was Sidney Bloom telling him that he wasn’t permitted to treat Tess, he was outright ordering him to turn her case over to him.

It had been a long time since Ryan had felt the need to acquiesce to Sidney Bloom. He might respect the man as a teacher and benevolent mentor, but sometimes one had to step out of the shadow of the teacher. Ryan was sure now was that time.

But before he could speak, the door behind them swung open. Mrs. Mackie—the waiting-room receptionist—stood in the doorway, her face the picture of frosty disapproval. “I thought you should know that the young woman you brought in just left.”

“What you mean she left?” Ryan said.

“Just what I said. She got up and walked out.”

Bloom scowled. “Well, where did she go?”

Mrs. Mackie glanced in Ryan’s direction, an accusatory expression on her narrow face. Obviously, she didn’t appreciate her boss’s irritation and blamed Ryan.

“She wasn’t exactly forthcoming about her plans. When I tried to convince her to stay until you were done talking, she got quite rude.”

“Did she seem upset? Confused?” Ryan asked.

Mrs. Mackie stiffened. “I have no idea, Doctor. She was reading a magazine and then, all of a sudden, she started to shake and tremble so violently I thought she might be having a seizure.”

Concern ripped through Ryan. “And you let her just leave?” he demanded. “What’s the matter with you?”

Mrs. Mackie stiffened, her lips tightening. “I resent your tone, Doctor. She was angry, and I didn’t feel it was my place to wrestle with her. I notified the front gate as soon as she left. I knew they’d make sure she didn’t leave without prior authorization from Dr. Bloom.” She sniffed. “Besides, she’s your responsibility, not mine.”

“Damn right she’s my responsibility,” Ryan said, starting for the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Bloom. “If there was any question up to this point of who would be taking care of Tess’s case, I hope this settles it. It’ll be me!”

Bloom shook his head. “You’re losing your objectivity, Ryan. I can hear it in your voice. You can’t save every young woman who walks through the door as a way of making up for the mess in Boston.”

Ryan clenched his hands and fought against the swell of anger rising in the back of his throat. “My desire to help Tess has nothing to do with Boston.”

“Go ahead and tell yourself that,” Bloom said, “but you and I both know that you’re still battling intense feelings of guilt.”

Ryan pushed aside a twinge of self-doubt. “I don’t have time to argue. I’m going after her.”

He left, ignoring Bloom’s parting shot, “Don’t get in over your head, Ryan. I’ve already thrown you one lifeline. There aren’t any more left.”

LESS THAN A MILE down the road, Ryan spotted Tess. She was running. A wild, full-out run of pure, unadulterated fear. Her legs pumped madly, and her calf muscles stood out in sculpted relief, eating up the road with a long, graceful stride.

Slowing down, Ryan pulled up beside her, the passenger-side window down. “You always leave a place in such an all-out rush?”

She slowed and then stopped abruptly, her feet skidding in the loose gravel. He had to slam on the brakes to keep from sailing past her.

She bent over to catch her breath, thick strands of finely spun gold strands sliding over her shoulders to shield her face from him. She flipped it back and then turned her head sideways to glance at him. Tiny beads of sweat peppered her forehead and damped her hair along the sides of her face.

“Along with hating doctors, I’m not real partial to hospitals,” she said, her breath already calming. Ryan realized that she might not have any memory of who she was, but she was in phenomenal physical shape. A marathon runner, with perfect breath control and recovery.

“So pretend I’m a friend and I stopped to pick you up.” He reached across and opened the door. “Get in. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. No need to hoof it.”

She didn’t move. The late-afternoon light hit the green of her eyes, making them sparkle and creating an odd tightening in Ryan’s chest. Damn but she was beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. The kind of beauty that took a man’s heart, squeezed it so tight it pounded in protest and never allowed it to return to normal. He felt as though she’d done that to him with a single glance.

Perhaps Bloom was right. Perhaps he was involved for no other reason than that he was attracted to her.

“I have no intention of going back there.”

Ryan sighed. “I’m not stupid, Tess. I definitely get the message that you don’t like hospitals. Personally, I think you’re making a mistake. But no one, least of all me, will force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

A tiny shimmer of relief flickered in the depth of her eyes, but it was gone almost before he’d noticed it. She worked hard to hide what she felt.

“Come on, get in. My place isn’t too far from here. We’ll go get something to eat,” Ryan urged. “We’ll talk. Figure things out.”

A small smile curled the corner of her mouth. “I’d like that. I’m starved.” She climbed into the car, folding long legs beneath the dash and snapping her seat belt on.

“I’m beginning to think you’re always hungry.” He put the car in First and hit the gas, making a quick U-turn.

She immediately stiffened beside him, her hand reaching down to unsnap her belt. Her other hand clamped onto the door handle. “I thought you said you wouldn’t force me to go back there.”

“Relax,” Ryan said as her shoulder went up against the door. He knew that she was two seconds away from throwing herself out of the car. He reached across and touched her arm, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the rush of heat that soaked through his finger and extended up the length of his arm.

“I said I wouldn’t take you back to the center. And I won’t.”

She shook his hand off, her eyes flashing distrust. “Then why the hell are we heading back in the same direction I just came?”

She shifted her body away from his and shoved the door open. Pavement rushed past. Ryan slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a stop.

“Dammit, Tess, will you relax! I live on the same grounds as the center. I’m simply taking you to my house.” He leaned across, his shoulder accidentally brushing up against her breasts. He slammed the door, trying not to think about the fact that she was naked beneath the thin shirt and her breast had been pressed against his upper arm. He pulled back quickly. “When I said we were going to my house for something to eat, that’s all I intended. Wherever you go after that is totally up to you.”

Tess studied him, her expression wary. “You live here on the center’s grounds?”

Ryan nodded and eased his foot off the brake. He drove past the entrance to the center and headed for the row of houses farther down the road. “A lot of the staff lives here on the grounds. Dr. Bloom likes his people within easy reach.” He grinned, trying to put her at ease. “That way he can call us at any time of the day or night and he’s assured that we’ll be in our labs within minutes of his call. I was lucky enough to get one of the small cottages on the far side of the grounds.”

Tess was silent beside him, apparently willing to wait the ride out before deciding whether or not to trust him. Ryan noticed that she kept her hand on the door handle, her frame tense and her eyes watchful. He stepped on the gas, heading up the steep hill leading to his house.

WHEN RYAN CLICKED on his turn signal, Tess craned her neck and peered out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of where they were going. A sloping lawn led up to a neat Cape Cod–style house situated between two large oaks.

She glanced around. The only other house in view was another similarly styled cottage about a half mile down the road, screened from view by a stand of trees.

Ryan gunned the car up the driveway and rolled to a stop in front of the garage door. He turned off the engine. A single row of weed-infested petunias lined a small path leading to the front door.

He sighed. “I confess I’m not much of a gardener. But the lawn is mowed, and I promise that you won’t find any dirty laundry hanging on the furniture.” He opened the door and the car rocked slightly as he leveraged his muscular frame out. When she didn’t move, he poked his head back in. “If you sit out here in the sun all day you’re going to roast.”

Without waiting for her answer, he straightened up, nudged the door closed and started up the walkway. With a gesture of unconcern, he flipped his keys in the air and caught them in the palm of his hand. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard him whistle a bit before disappearing inside. He left the front door slightly ajar.

Tess gnawed on the corner of her lip, ignoring the building heat in the car. Where was her fear coming from? On one level, she wanted to trust him, but on another, the alarm bells were wailing so loudly her head ached from the sound of them.

She ran a finger along the warm metal of the door handle. Was she afraid he’d wait behind the front door, jump her and wrestle her into a straitjacket? She moaned softly and leaned forward to rest her forehead on her knees. What to do, what to do?

If she was so afraid of him, why had she gotten in his car in the first place? She could have kept running, headed off into one of the fields where the car couldn’t go. She knew she was fast. She could have outrun him easy.

Tess shook her head and sat up. Who was she kidding? She might be fast, but something told her that Ryan Donovan was faster. When she’d brushed up against him in the cornfield, she hadn’t missed the hardness of his body, the glide of smooth, well-conditioned muscles beneath the suit coat. It was a body built for speed and endurance. If Ryan wanted, Tess had a feeling he could run her to the ground.

Grabbing the door handle, she climbed out. A warm breeze cut across the field and ruffled her hair. She could take off now and he’d never know. Instead, she hit the door with her hip, and, as it swung shut, she headed up the path to the house.

When she stepped inside, the coolness of the interior hit her hot skin and she almost whimpered with appreciation. She hadn’t realized how hot and irritable she’d gotten.

She couldn’t see Ryan, but she could hear him upstairs walking around. She jumped when something cold and wet pressed against her hand. Glancing down, she stared into a pair of warm brown eyes. A chocolate Lab, his body wiggling with delight nosed her again.

“Hey, boy.” She ran a hand gently over his broad head, stroking the silky ears. “What’s your name?”

“That’s Jung,” Ryan’s called from upstairs. “He’s friendly. In fact, he’d probably open the door for strangers and invite them in if he knew how.”

Tess froze in the doorway, her cautiousness returning. But Ryan didn’t reappear at the top of the stairs. Instead, he continued to rummage around upstairs.

She edged her way into the living room, Jung close on her heels. It was a cozy and surprisingly neat room for a bachelor. An oversize stuffed couch that looked brand-new and two equally new-looking easy chairs occupied most of the floor space.

An ancient-looking cuckoo clock with an elaborate wood-carved design sat in one corner and a battered lounger was strategically located in front of the TV. Apparently, Ryan hadn’t been able to ditch all his belongings from his previous home.

“Contrary to the worn-out look of the La-Z-Boy, I swear I’m not the type who comes home from work every night and collapses in front of mindless TV sitcoms.”

Startled, Tess whipped around to find Ryan standing at the bottom of the stairs, a few inches away. His ability to get down the stairs and within inches of her without her hearing him surprised her. Something told her that her reflexes were slower than usual.

He had changed out of the well-cut, carefully tailored suit and into a pair of soft, faded jeans and shirt. In the narrow hall, his size was slightly intimidating. He towered over her, his muscular body pressing in on her, making her consciously aware of his size and strength. No weak academic-type body here. This man was built like a fighter.

He smiled and jerked his head toward the back of the house.

“Let me fire up the grill, and then I’ll show you around.”

Tess nodded silently, following him out through a small kitchen to the glass patio doors. The surprise was the presence of an in-ground pool. Invitingly clear water lapped the edges of the blue tiles lining the sides and bottom of the pool.

Ryan must have seen the gleam in her eyes because he asked, “How about a swim? You can cool off while I cook us some dinner.”

Tess shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll help make dinner.” But her eyes lingered on the gentle ripple of turquoise water.

Ryan laughed and slid open the patio door. He walked over to the fence where a row of beach towels and bathing suits hung in the sun.

He grabbed a fire-engine-red suit and a fluffy beach towel off the fence and walked back over. “Here. It’s my sister’s suit. It should fit. She and her kids were over last weekend testing out the pool and making general pests of themselves. You can change in the bathroom—down the hall and to the right.”

Without waiting for an answer, he went into the kitchen and started rummaging around in the refrigerator.

Tess stood in the doorway and watched him pull a steak out of the meat drawer. He slapped it on a platter and then grabbed a pepper grinder and efficiently ground out a healthy amount of pepper on top of the red meat. He opened a drawer and removed a pair of grill tongs.

When he glanced in her direction, he raised an eyebrow. “Still here? I thought you’d be changed by now.”

“Your sister lives nearby?”

Ryan nodded. “She lives in town, across the street from my mom.” He turned around and scooped up a box of kitchen matches off a tiny shelf over the stove. “She used to live in Des Moines. But she got a divorce about a year ago and moved home to be nearer the family.”

“Have you always been close?”

Ryan nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We fought like crazy when we were little, but we were always close.” He reached into another drawer and pulled out a paring knife. “Does your family live near you?”

Tess shook her head. “My dad’s dead. He died when I was twelve. I don’t have any sisters or brothers.”

She watched as Ryan took a clove of garlic out of a basket and started peeling it. “Your mom still alive?” Ryan asked.

Tess shook her head no, mesmerized by the flashing of the knife blade as he chopped the garlic with cheflike speed. “She died five years ago, shortly after I graduated from college.” She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, unable to tear her gaze away from the shine of the knife. “My dad, he would have been proud of me graduating from college.”

“Where did you go to school?” Ryan asked, his voice casual. He used one finger to sweep the tiny buds of garlic clinging to the blade onto the cutting board.

“I went to—”

The cuckoo clock in the living room crowed and Tess jumped. Startled, she stared up into the intense blue of Ryan’s eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing all the time.

“You did it again, didn’t you?” she whispered. “You got me to remember without me even realizing it.”

He shrugged those big shoulders. “No real trick to it, Tess. You were simply ready to tell me those things. You weren’t even aware you were saying them, and that made all the difference in the world. In your head, you were simply sharing a normal, everyday conversation with me.”

Tess leaned against the counter and watched as he drizzled a few drops of olive oil on top of the steak. He sprinkled the minced garlic over the meat and rubbed it all in. She liked watching his quick, self-assured movements. Somehow they infused her with a feeling of warmth and comfort.

“I still don’t understand,” she said.

“The ease with which you accessed the information is a good sign. It means your memories are intact, that they’re simply waiting for you to recover them.”

“Then why can’t I simply recover them?”

He smiled gently. “It isn’t as easy as all that. You have to give your brain time to recover—to mend itself. The memories will come when they’re ready.”

He reached over and turned on the hot water, and she watched as he washed his hands. Hands that had manipulated the knife just as brilliantly as his sharp mind had manipulated her brain. Wetting her suddenly dry lips, she watched him lather on the soap and then quickly rinse it off. Intriguing man, this Dr. Ryan Donovan.

He shut off the water and picked up the steak platter. “Now go change and take your swim. I’ll put the steak on in about five minutes. Dinner in twenty.”

Before Tess could answer, the phone rang.

Ryan picked it up. “Hello…? Hello?”

He frowned and checked the cord. “Hello, is anyone there?”

He leaned in and checked the caller ID screen. “That’s funny, they hung up. The caller ID says the call originated from the center.”

Tess wasn’t sure why, but the hair on the back of her neck shifted and stood on end.

Ryan shrugged and replaced the receiver. “Whatever it was, they’ll call back.” He gave her a reassuring nod. “Go change. I’ll get started on dinner.”

Tess nodded numbly and backed out of the kitchen as if going to change. But instead, she made her way down the short hall to the front of the house.

At the living-room window, she opened the curtain a crack and peered out. The late-afternoon sun drenched the front lawn, drying the already-brown blades and heating up the driveway macadam. Cicadas droned rhythmically and a deep heaviness seemed to hang in the air. Nothing out of sync. Maybe she was getting spooked.

She took a calming breath and allowed the curtain to fall back. But then, right when she was about to turn away, the soft purr of a car engine caught her attention. Her fingers, trembling slightly, parted the curtain again. A black sedan, its grillwork flashing silver in the sunlight, motored past. The passenger’s side window was down and a man in a dark suit sat with one arm hooked on the ledge.

He turned his head, and, despite the mirror lenses of his sunglasses, Tess knew he was staring directly up at her. She dropped the curtain and stepped away from the window. She knew without question it was one of the men who had watched her leave the center earlier.

Her heart thudded against her breastbone and she wiped her sweat-soaked palms down the sides of her pants. She didn’t believe in coincidences.

A FEW MINUTES LATER, Ryan looked up to see Tess slip through the open screen door and step out onto the patio. She had gathered all that luxurious hair into a knot at the top of her head, and even though she’d pulled it tight, silvery strands shimmering in the late-afternoon light had escaped to dance around her face, highlighting her exquisite features.

He fiddled with the lid of the grill, trying not to stare. The suit, a little too big in the hips and bust, should have done nothing for her figure. Instead, her graceful, streamlined body, with its smooth glide of finely toned muscles, caused a tightening in his groin. The kind of tightening that told him his body was going places it shouldn’t.

Tess tugged at the top of the suit and smiled self-consciously. “It’s a little big.” She held up a string. “I took the lace out of my sneaker. Do you mind tying the straps together. Otherwise I’m afraid I’ll swim right out of it.”

Ryan managed a nod. The thought of her streaking naked through the turquoise water of his pool was almost more than he could handle.

She turned around, flipping the string over one shoulder. It lay against her smooth satiny skin, the end trailing along the upper edge of her shoulder blade.

Ryan had never noticed that his sister’s suit had such a low back, cut just above the sweet curve of Tess’s backside. His gaze lingered for a moment on the smooth, rounded curve of her behind and then along the straight column of her spine, up to the graceful sweep of her neck.

He slipped the lace beneath the straps of the suit and tied them, his fingers lightly brushing the soft skin between her shoulder blades. Her skin was smooth, like fine satin.

Beneath the tips of his fingers, Tess shivered slightly, and her head dropped forward, revealing the soft downy spot at the nape of her neck. Until that moment, Ryan realized he’d never truly recognized the beauty in a woman’s neck. How inviting it was. How erotic. How deliciously vulnerable. His mouth went dry and he felt a sudden tightness in his groin.

He shook his head, trying to break the unsettling mood that had captured him. Man, he needed to get out more. This was ridiculous. The woman wanted him to tie the straps of her suit and he was getting hot, obsessing about her neck. Get a grip.

“Do people from the center drive out this way much?” she asked.

“No, this house and the one just down the road from me are the farthest ones out. Even though the road circles around back to the main gate, no one drives the long way around. So, it’s pretty quiet out here.” He looped the shoestring into a bow while trying desperately to concentrate on the act of tying it and not the feel of Tess’s skin beneath his fingers. He wasn’t too successful.

“Who lives in the house just beyond yours?”

“No one. Bloom keeps it for guests—big shots he’s courting to finance pet projects.”

“Is anyone staying out there right now?”

Ryan paused and then pulled the ends of the string into a perfect bow. He gently turned Tess around. “Okay, I can tell you’re worried about something? Want to tell me what it is?”

Her lashes dipped down to shield her eyes for a moment, as if she was considering how much she wanted to tell him.

Her caution worried him. How was he going to work successfully with her if she fought him at every junction? If she couldn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth?

But finally she glanced up again. “I know this is going to sound paranoid and a little crazy, but a few minutes ago, I saw one of the men from the center drive by the house.”

“And that worries you because…?”

“Because I don’t like the thought of anyone checking up on me.”

Simply cautious or slightly paranoid? He wasn’t sure. She’d been through a lot and that could put a person on edge. “What makes you think he was checking up on you?” he asked.

Frustration tightened the corners of her mouth. “You told me no one was staying in the other house. Why would he drive by a few minutes after you and I get here? The car slowed down and he looked right up here at the house.” He saw a flicker of doubt cross her face as what she was saying registered in her own brain. “You got a hang-up call from the center and then this guy drives by. Don’t you think that’s too much of a coincidence?”