in his office or the note on his desk.
She nodded. “I couldn’t see what was happening, but I definitely heard footsteps and the door to your office opening and closing.”
“You didn’t get a look at who it was?”
She shook her head. Was that suspicion she heard in his voice?
When he continued to stare at her without saying more, she offered, “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” He smiled, rearranging his face into the amiable expression he usually wore. “It is now. Come with me. We should get this police business squared away so we can return to the business of healing the sick.”
The walk back to the emergency department was the longest of her life. She could feel his tension in every step he took. She wanted to ask him again if everything was okay but she didn’t dare stir his suspicions.
Right now all she wanted was for this night to be over.
Magnificent Mile Tuesday, May 8, 2:15 p.m.
Eva hurried up the sidewalk. She glanced over her shoulder repeatedly, checked the street over and over. She hated that her behavior no doubt looked entirely paranoid, but the truth was paranoia had been her constant companion for better than forty-eight hours. Since she received the first message.
Two men had swerved to the curb on her street as she walked home from the market on Saturday afternoon. She might have kept walking except the one hanging out the passenger window called her name.
Eva! Eva Bowman! He’s coming for you, la perra. You killed his hermano menor.
The man who’d tried to rape her—the one who’d fractured his skull in that damned bathroom and then died—was the younger brother of one of Chicago’s most notorious gang leaders.
Just her luck.
Eva walked faster. She hadn’t meant to kill anyone. She’d been fighting for her life. He’d fallen...his death was an accident. An accident that wouldn’t have happened had he not been trying to rape her.
The detectives on the scene had tried to make her feel better by telling her that Diego Robles—that was the dead man’s name, Diego Robles—and his gang of nearly a dozen thugs had murdered six men and two women on Friday before overtaking the ER where she worked.
Except it hadn’t made her feel better. Robles had been nineteen years old. Nineteen. He had an older brother, Miguel, who was thirty-five and the leader of the True Disciples, an extremely violent offshoot of the Latin Disciples. The brother had passed along his message to Eva on three occasions without ever leaving a single shred of evidence she could take to the police.
The first warning had come on Saturday afternoon via the two thugs in the car. Another had come when she walked out of the corner coffee shop near her apartment building on Sunday morning. Then, last night, another man had showed up at the ER asking for her. When she’d appeared at the registration desk, he’d waited until no one was looking and leaned forward to whisper for her ears only.
You will die this week.
With that he’d given her a nod and told her to enjoy her night.
She’d reported all three incidents to the police and all they could do was tell her to be careful. No one had touched her or damaged her property. She had no proof of the threats other than her word. But last night when she’d been too afraid to go to her car alone and then too terrified to go to her own apartment, she’d understood she had to do something. She worried the only evidence to back up her fears would come in the form of someone finding her body after it was too late.
Lena had demanded, to no avail, protection from the police for Eva. Kim Levy, her friend and another nurse at the Edge, had urged her to speak to Dr. Pierce. Kim had been in the ER on Friday night. She understood how terrified Eva had every right to be. But Eva couldn’t stop thinking about the way Dr. Pierce had looked at her after the strange happenings in his office. She’d decided not to discuss that odd moment with Kim or anyone else. And she had no desire to discuss her personal dilemma with her boss. Still, Kim being Kim, she had gone to Dr. Pierce and told him what was going on. He had insisted on sending Eva to the Colby Agency. Eva had heard of the Colby Agency. Who hadn’t? She’d certainly never expected to need a private investigations firm. Yet, here she was. She had an appointment at two thirty. Five minutes from now.
Almost there. The Magnificent Mile was always busy, even on a Tuesday afternoon with hours to go before the evening rush of commuters headed home. She looked at each face she met...wondering when one of them would appear.
She walked faster, pushing against the wind that seemed to want to blow her right back to where she’d parked her car.
No turning back now.
A shiver chilled her skin. It didn’t feel very much like spring today. Barely sixty degrees and overcast. Just in case it started to rain again, she’d tucked her umbrella into the beige leather bag she carried. Her pepper spray was in there, too. She carried her life around in one of two bags: a well-used brown one for fall and winter and this tawny beige one her mother had given her for spring and summer. Life was complicated enough without changing the purse she carried more than twice a year. Eva went out of her way to keep life simple. She’d had enough complications her freshman year in college. She’d made a decision all those years ago never to allow those sorts of complications ever again.
Life was better when she stuck to enjoying the simpler pleasures. Like all the gorgeous tulips still in bloom and the trees that had gone from their stark winter limbs to lush and green already.
That was the ticket. Focus on the mundane...the normal.
The deep timbre of male voices was suddenly behind her. Fear crept up her spine like a cluster of spiders and her heart swelled into her throat. Her gait wavered, causing her to nearly stumble. A group of four men moved around and ahead of her. Despite the glaring facts that they paid her absolutely no notice, were dressed in business suits and kept moving at a brisk pace, her heart refused to slide back down into her chest where it belonged. The pepper spray in her bag felt wholly inadequate.
Damn, she was a mess.
It wasn’t until she spotted the wide glass front bearing the address of her destination that she was able to breathe easy again. Her hands settled on the door and, despite her best efforts, she hesitated. Calm was the necessary watchword. If she went into this meeting shaken and panicky, she might very well meet with the same reception she’d received from the two Chicago PD detectives working the investigation.
Investigation. There were several aspects of the ongoing investigation. The clash between the True Disciples and another well-known gang with the resulting multiple homicides. The taking of an entire ER hostage. And the deemed justified homicide of Diego Robles. Both detectives, their captain and the DA had told her the events that happened in that bathroom were self-defense, completely justified. She had not intended to kill anyone. She’d only been trying to get away from him. The man’s death was an accidental consequence of his actions.
But dead was dead.
Calm. Collected. Not your fault.
