Someone knocked on the door, and she called for whoever it was to come in, anticipating that it would be a nurse or a doctor with news about how Calvin was doing.

Instead, a man she didn’t recognize entered and introduced himself as Special Agent Bill Greer. “I’m with the FBI. Are you Christie Ellis?”

“Yes.”

“I work with your husband.” He showed her his creds.

“Okay,” she said somewhat distractedly, still worrying about Tessa. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Pat hadn’t mentioned Greer’s name to her before, but there wasn’t anything necessarily unusual about that. She didn’t know too many of his Bureau coworkers.

“I was looking for Dr. Werjonic,” Greer said.

“I’m afraid he’s in surgery.”

Agent Greer studied the room as if he were searching for something he might have misplaced. “Did you drive here?”

“What?”

“Did you drive?”

“No, I took the subway.”

She was about to ask why that mattered, but before she could, he said, “I should probably take you to Pat.”

“Does this have to do with Tessa?”

“Tessa,” he said simply.

“My daughter.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Was she found?”

“Come with me. I’ll fill you in on everything I know as soon as we’re—”

Christie felt her throat tighten with fear for her daughter. “I’m not leaving until you tell me if you know where she is.”

“We haven’t confirmed her location, but Patrick needs to talk with you about it in person. We should hurry. There are some things happening with this case that have left us . . . well, unsure who to trust.”

“What do you mean?”

“We think someone from the Bureau might’ve been in contact with Blake Neeson. An email was sent to him from one of the computers at the Field Office.”

A chill. She knew that name all too well from Pat’s search for the man. “Neeson?”

“Yes.”

“Are you saying he took my daughter?”

“No. That’s not it.” Greer gestured toward the door, but it seemed like less of a request and more of a command.

“I should call Pat.”

“Certainly, Ms. Ellis. I’ll wait in the hall.”

He immediately left the room.

She took out her phone but then realized that if there was anything untoward happening with this man, he wouldn’t have encouraged her to call her husband.

She knew that Pat was following up on a lead, so rather than bother him, she simply texted that she was leaving the hospital and would see him soon. I’m with Agent Greer, she wrote, then joined the man in the hallway.

“How long have you been working with Pat?”

“Off and on with different task forces for a little over two years.”

“I see.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Yes, he is.”

Together, they headed to the parking garage.

74

Ten minutes to the greenhouse.