His phone rang as he walked past the train station.

It was a hospital number. His heart sank. “Hello.”

“Harry.” His father’s voice sounded so weak. And yet it possessed a strange reediness to it. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the hotel, Dad.”

“They’re trying to hurt me. You need to come.”

“Dad,” he tried to keep his voice calm, but panic churned in his gut, “the doctors and nurses are trying to help you. Not hurt you.”

“No, Harry! I heard them. They want to poison me.”

What was going on with his father? He sounded delirious. “Dad, it’s not poison,” he said in his most reassuring tone. “It’s just medicine to help you sleep.”

“I tell you they’re poisoning me! You need to come, Harry.”

The pleading rent Harry’s heart into two. “I’ll be there soon.”

“I need you now. They’re going to hurt me. They took my wheelchair.” His father’s voice wobbled. “Please come, Harry.”

“Dad. I’ll be there soon.” Harry’s throat closed with tears. He hung up the phone, and broke into a jog.

The sooner he dealt with this bastard the better.

Chapter 48

Chapter 48

2:11 a.m.

Kate didn’t have time to give Eddie’s new place more than a cursory glance before she hurried up the front walkway. There were several lights on inside the town house.

Why hadn’t Eddie answered the phone?

She rang the doorbell.

No answer.

She pressed it again.

No answer.

Jesus, Eddie. Where are you?

Maybe Eddie wasn’t home.

She peered at the front window. Light shone through the crack between the window frame and the blinds.

She texted: I’m outside your place. Please answer the door.

Then she waited.

After a few minutes, she texted: I’m going to meet the hacktivist now. If Eddie was home, she knew he could not ignore that text.

Two minutes later, the door was unlocked. Eddie stood on the threshold. Hair rumpled, pants rumpled.

Face rumpled.

Ash dribbled down the front of his shirt.

Oh, Eddie.

She could smell the alcohol from where she stood. He swayed slightly in the doorway. “Kate.”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

She entered his apartment. A black leather sofa sat in front of a television.

And that was it.

The moving boxes were still packed, stacked neatly by the counter of the galley kitchen. And on the counter was a vodka bottle that was only one-third full.

Her heart sank.

Eddie was a recovering alcoholic. He had completely forsworn alcohol.

“You’re up late.” She walked over to the kitchen counter and leaned by the nearly empty bottle.

His gaze tracked her movements. “Yes.”

She loved her friend too dearly to mince words. “Why are you drinking again? Especially with Elaine coming next week?”

Shame, pain, raw anguish flickered in his gaze. “Elaine’s not coming. She left a voice mail. I got it when I came home.”