Free Girl Missing by Tess Gerritsen Page B

rose to his feet. His height put her at a disadvantage. Now she was looking up at him , confronting the chilly silence of his eyes.
    Up till now, she hadn’t felt in the least bit intimidated by Adam Quantrell, not by his wealth or his power or his good looks. But his anger—this was something else. This she couldn’t brush off, couldn’t turn her back on. Their gazes held and all at once something new flared inside her, so unexpected she was stunned by its intensity. Suddenly she was unable, unwilling, to take note of anything else in the room.
    It was a woman’s voice, calling Adam’s name, that finally broke the spell.
    “Adam! What on earth did you do to yourself?”
    Kat turned and saw Isabel, still in full evening dress. She’d just come through the waiting room doors and now was staring at Adam in dismay.
    “Look at your clothes! And your face! What happened?” Isabel reached up and touched the bruise on his cheek.
    He winced. “We got into a little … trouble,” he said. “What are you doing here, Isabel?”
    “I heard Thomas say he was coming to fetch you. I told him I’d do it instead.”
    “I’ll have to talk to him about this—”
    “No, I insisted. I thought you’d be glad to have me rescue you.” She flashed him a smile. “ Aren’t you glad?”
    “You shouldn’t be down here,” he said. “Not at this time of night. It’s not safe.”
    “Oh well.” Isabel glanced around in disbelief at the tired army of people waiting on the benches, and she clutched her wrap more tightly around her shoulders. “I can’t imagine what you’re doing in this part of town.” She looked at Kat’s equally bruised face. “It appears you both got into a little trouble.”
    “Dr. Novak needs a ride home, too,” saidAdam. “Her car got stolen. And at the moment, we’re penniless.”
    There was a brief silence, then Isabel shrugged. “Why not? The more the merrier, I say.” She turned toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before my car gets stolen.”
    “Wait.” Adam looked at Kat. “There’s something we need to do first.”
    “What’s that?” asked Isabel.
    “We have to go upstairs. There’s a patient we have to see. In the ICU.”
    Kat gave him a nod of approval. So he was finally ready to hear the truth.
    “I’ll just come along,” said Isabel. “You wouldn’t leave me down here all by myself, would you?”
    With Adam and Isabel in tow, Kat retraced the steps she’d taken earlier that day. Down the hallway with the tired aqua walls. Up the elevator. Down another hall. Isabel’s high heels clacked across the floor.
    The ICU was a hive of activity, nurses scurrying about, monitors beeping, ventilators whooshing. At the central nursing desk, two dozen heart tracings zigzagged across a bank of oscilloscopes.
    The ward clerk glanced up in surprise at the trio of visitors. “Are you visiting someone?” he asked.
    “I’m Dr. Novak, ME’s office,” said Kat. “I was here earlier with Dr. Dietz, looking over Nicos Biagi’s chart. Would you know if his tox screen came back?”
    “I just came on duty. Let me check the reports.” The clerk turned to the in-box, riffled through the stack of newly delivered lab slips. “There’s no tox screen here for a Biagi.”
    “How is he doing?”
    “You’ll have to talk to one of the nurses. Which bed is he in?”
    “Bed thirteen.”
    “Thirteen?” The clerk looked at the Kardex file and frowned. “There’s no one in bed thirteen.”
    “That’s his bed number, I’m sure of it.” Kat glanced at the oscilloscope, where every patient’s heart rhythm wriggled across the screen. Number thirteen was blank.
    A nurse walked past the desk, carrying an armful of charts. “Excuse me, Lori?” called the ward clerk. “There was a Mr. Biagi in bed thirteen. Do you know if he’s been moved?”
    Lori stopped, turned to look at the trio of visitors. “Are you friends or relatives?”
    “Neither,” said Kat. “I’m from