He tried the handle and it opened easily.

Empty.

He frowned and returned to the nurses’ station, where he found Sarah’s nurse exactly where he’d left her. This time he noted her name tag. Donna. “She’s not in her room.”

Donna’s head snapped up to face him. “Not there? Of course she’s there.”

“Trust me, the bed and bathroom are empty.”

Donna darted from behind her station and jog-walked to Sarah’s room. Gavin followed. Donna pushed open the door and stopped so fast he almost ran her over.

“She’s not here,” she said.

Gavin raised a brow. “Really?”

She glared at him. Then did an about-face and stormed past him.

Sarah stood in the immaculately clean room, leaned against the wall, and waited for everything to stop spinning. She wasn’t sure this was one of her more brilliant ideas, but she had to reassure Brianne that she’d help her.

Somehow.

Only Brianne’s room was empty, smelling of bleach and pine cleaner, with no indication someone had occupied the room just forty-five minutes earlier. Had she stumbled into the wrong room by mistake?

No, it was the one right next door to hers.

She’d been rattled, but not that rattled. Confused, she checked the bathroom. Same story.

“Unbelievable.” So, go ask where she went. Sarah turned to leave the room when her eyes landed on a cell phone near the sink. Just as her fingers closed around the device, voices outside the door caught her attention.

“. . . consent . . . her family . . . questions.”

“She’s better off where she is now.”

Better off? Who? Brianne? That was Dr. Kilgore, but who was the other man?

“Has she been taking her meds?” A different voice, another man’s.

“Of course.”

“Take her off of them.”

“But—”

“Just do it.”

“But you know—”

“I know,” the unknown man snapped. “I know.”

“Right.”

“We’ll figure it out.” They fell silent, but footsteps drew closer to the room and Sarah’s nerves twitched. “There’s still no sign of the package,” the stranger said.

Dr. Kilgore sighed. “It’ll turn up. I’ve got people watching for it.”

Package?

“What about the other girl? What do you think she knows?” Again, the unknown voice that was . . . familiar. Sarah strained to hear.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on her,” the doctor said, “but she’s been so drugged up, I doubt she’ll remember much.”

Sarah swayed. What other girl?

“And if she does?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You’d better. We’re too close to have anything go wrong now.”

Close to what? Her brain might not be firing on all cylinders at the moment, but even in her weakened, woozy state, his words made her shiver. No, not his words, his tone. It scraped along her nerve endings and raised the hair on the back of her neck.