“It was two o’clock in the morning when Simon Simmons, the surgeon, came out to talk to me. Cosmo was in recovery and would be moved to the intensive care unit. I know Simon, he’s a great guy, and Cowboy says he’s almost as good a surgeon as he is. He was making a joke, of course. Simon didn’t sugarcoat it. He said it was touch-and-go. Five gunshot wounds—one to the head, one to the shoulder, two to the back near his spinal cord, and one that creased his neck and took off part of his ear. Cosmo is a big guy, as you well know, and has lots of flesh on him. Simon said all that worked in his favor with the back bullets. The shoulder was in and out and not a real problem. The ear shot . . . well, anyone can live missing part of an ear. It’s the head wound that was crucial. They put him in a medically induced coma. That’s it.”

“Was it a hit on Cosmo himself? I thought he traveled with security. Was he at the wrong place at the wrong time? Do you know, Lizzie? Did you talk to the police?”

“I don’t know the answers to any of those questions. The police did come to the clinic. I spoke to them briefly, only to tell them I knew nothing. No one in authority has contacted me, not even the casino owners, which I find strange. Then again, maybe they tried but the clinic staff kept them away from me. I’m going to get dressed now, okay?” Harry and Jack nodded as they shooed Lizzie out of the kitchen. Jack cleaned up as Harry sat down and went into a trance.

Twenty minutes later, Lizzie reappeared. Jack and Harry gaped at her, their jaws dropping. It was a long time since they had seen Lizzie dressed in anything but court attire. Here she was wearing a very worn sweat suit with running shoes. Her long silvery hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her face was freshly scrubbed and devoid of all makeup. There was no jewelry to be seen other than her gold wedding band.

This is the real Lizzie Fox, Jack thought. He looked over at Harry, who appeared to be thinking the same thing.

“Hey, guys, I have a question. Who put me to bed? Who undressed me?” Lizzie asked in a voice neither had ever heard before. Jack winced.

Harry stepped up to the plate so fast, Jack got dizzy. “Now, who do you think did that since we’re the only ones here? I give you my word we closed our eyes when we . . . um . . . got you ready for bed.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.”

And that was the end of that.

The trio piled into the car—Harry driving, Jack in the passenger seat, and Lizzie in the backseat by herself. The short drive to the clinic was made in virtual silence. The moment Harry pulled into the parking lot, Lizzie had the door open and was sprinting toward the main door, even before Harry could park the car.