A flight of stairs gave access to the upper floors and I went up them with Rink close behind. At the top was a narrow corridor. Checking out the signs hanging from the ceiling, I tried to figure out where Alisha’s room would be. At times like this I wished that Rapid Intuitive Experience went beyond a warning of danger, but that was about as psychic as I got. The signs were for different wards, all named after nearby islands in the Florida Keys, and none of them was distinguished from the next. Going for us was the fact that there were only four of them, two on the left and two on the right. They’d take no checking at all if it weren’t for the HRT commando striding along the hall toward us.

My first instinct was that this was Luke Rickard and I almost brought up my gun. I didn’t, though. This man was shorter and stockier built than the man I’d fought in Jimena Grajales’s sickroom.

I expected the feebie to challenge us, to try to disarm us, but all he did was speak into his throat mike. “They’re here, sir.”

I shared a glance with Rink. “Sounds like Hubbard’s expecting us.”

Rink scowled.

“Come with me,” the trooper said. Without waiting for us to comply, he turned and strode away down the hall.

“What the hell’s going on?”

“Don’t know, Rink, but we have to find out. We can refuse to follow this guy but you can bet his buddies will show up in a few seconds.”

“Don’t want to make an enemy of the feds.”

We followed the trooper past the wards. Glancing inside, I saw only empty beds. Made sense; the patients having all been moved in anticipation of what was coming. I couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto my lips.

“You realize what’s going on here?”

Rink nodded. “We’re not the only ones setting Rickard up.”

The trooper took us to another flight of stairs, this time leading down to a kitchen area full of stainless-steel counters and ultra-modern ovens and ranges. It was empty of domestic staff. We headed directly through and into a short corridor. Two suited men stood guard at a door. Seeing us coming, one of them knocked on the door then opened it. He stood aside and allowed me and Rink to enter. The FBI trooper waited outside with the guards.

Part of me wasn’t surprised to see Walter sitting in an office chair next to a bank of CCTV monitors, not when I recognized the two men outside as being the bodyguards who’d been at the hotel with us. Opposite Walter, SAC Hubbard leaned against a wall with his arms crossed. His beady eyes gave us the once-over before he turned his attention back to the screens.

“Relax, boys,” Walter said, “you’re amongst friends.”