That’s what I was thinking when I took a corner and slammed into a man in a white coat with medium-long black hair. I knocked a clipboard right out of his hand.

Christ!

“Sorry,” I said.

Then I nearly jumped out of my shoes. I’d thought of him often, but I hadn’t seen Dr. Garza since the day Yuki and I brought Keiko into the emergency room.

The doctor picked up his clipboard and fixed his hard black eyes on mine. It was a challenge, and I felt a nearly overwhelming impulse to throw him against the wall and cuff him.

You’re under arrest for being a supercilious son of a bitch, for giving my friend nightmares, and for being a likely suspect in an unspecified number of suspicious deaths that might or might not be homicides. Do you understand your rights?

Instead, I balled my fists up inside my jacket pockets and stood my ground.

“I know who you are,” Garza said. “Police lieutenant. Friend of Ms. Castellano. She’s a little overanxious, wouldn’t you say? Having a hard time with her mother’s death.”

“My friend is fine,” I told him. “But I’m not so sure about you.”

His face cracked in a crazy grin that left us both in a paralytic standoff that was finally broken by his name blasting over the PA.

“Dr. Garza wanted in the ER.”

We stepped out of each other’s way.

“I have work to do,” he said.

Chapter 77

Chapter 77

LAUREN MCKENNA took a quick breath, then knocked on the door. She waited anxiously in the carpeted hallway of the hotel, her stomach churning, thinking she was out of her mind to do this. Absolutely nuts.

She stared down at her gold pumps, the fake croc shoes a witty touch with the silk chiffon skirt, wondering if he’d notice—and then, a split second later, going the other way again, thinking it wasn’t too late to change her mind and get the hell out of there.

If she didn’t like him, she was going to say, “Sorry, I’ve got the wrong room.”

And then the door opened.

Her “date” smiled. He looked Asian American, maybe thirty or so, slim, hair gelled into spikes. He was dressed okay in a blue cotton shirt and tan dress slacks, but handsome, causing her a moment’s doubt—was she pretty enough for this guy? He reached out his hand and clasped hers.

“I’m Ken,” he said warmly. “You’re gorgeous, Lauren. I love what you’re wearing. You exceed all my expectations. Please come in.”

Lauren thanked him, stepped inside the plush hotel room, her heart banging in her chest.

Ken was saying, “Let me see your face. Do you mind?”

He reached out, moved her bangs away from her eyes.

“Can you smile?” he said, then smiled himself.