“I managed to get away from work a few days early. The housesitter was delirious to swap her parents for Mutton this soon. Changing the flights was slightly more difficult. But I missed you, and besides, I didn’t like the idea of you chasing a killer on your own. Looks as if I was right to be worried, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think it was anything to do with Penny,” Lindsay sighed. “Can we get out of here now? You know how much I like hospitals.”

“Sure,” Sophie said, gently stroking Lindsay’s head.

“Oh, my God, look at the state of you. This is all my fault! What happened? Was it Guy or was it Stella?” Helen demanded, unable to contain herself a moment longer.

“Later, Helen,” Sophie said. She kissed the top of Lindsay’s head and tenderly extricated herself from her lover’s embrace. “Go and find someone in authority, tell them we’re taking her home.”

Before Helen could leave, a white-coated doctor whom Lindsay had a dim recollection of seeing earlier appeared at Kirsten’s shoulder. “What’s going on here?” he demanded. “This patient has had a head injury. The last thing she needs is crowds of people around her. I could hear the shouting half-way down the corridor.” Helen had the grace to look embarrassed.

“Doctor,” Sophie said. “The very person I wanted to see. We’re taking Ms. Gordon home now.”

“Oh, no, you’re not,” he said obstinately. “Ms. Gordon is my patient and we’re keeping her in overnight for observation. It’s standard procedure in cases of head trauma.”

Sophie ran a hand through her silver curls. “I’m a doctor myself. I know what the symptoms of concussion look like, I know the procedures. I’m prepared to take responsibility for her.” She pulled her wallet out of the back pocket of her jeans and gave him a card that announced she was Dr. Sophie Hartley, consultant obstetrician and gynecologist of the Grafton Clinic, San Francisco. He looked slightly dazed as he read it, then looked at this tall woman wearing a T-shirt that read “Netheads do IT better.” Sophie grinned disarmingly. “So, we’ll be leaving shortly,” she said with all the authority of half a dozen years as a consultant.

“But I’ve managed to get her a bed,” the hospital doctor protested. “Have you any idea how hard that is these days?”

“Looking at the patient, I’m sure you’ve done a really good job,” Sophie said, reassuring without patronizing. “Look at it this way—now you know there’s a bed available for one of your other patients.”

He muttered something under his breath, then said, “On your head be it.”

Within ten minutes, Lindsay and Sophie were settled in the back of Helen’s car, with Kirsten driving so Helen could turn round in her seat and demand information. “So what happened?” she asked again.