Nikki narrowed her eyes as she stared at the young nurse. She was a pretty thing, creamy complexion, healthy, shiny hair down to her shoulders, clear blue eyes, and a nice trim figure, proof that she worked out. She didn’t know how she knew but she suspected the young woman got by on her looks. “You’re a disgrace to the nursing profession.”

Petrie tried rattling the bars of her prison cell. When nothing happened, she kicked at them, then howled in pain as she hopped around on her uninjured foot. “See what you made me do! You’re the terrorists here, not me, and for your information, I’m a damn fine nurse. I have repeat patients. I’m hungry, and I have to go to the bathroom.”

Yoko pointed to the small sink and toilet in the corner of the cell. “Tell that all to someone who cares! C’mon, Nikki, we have better things to do than spend time down here with her.”

“What! What! You’re leaving me here! I hear rats scratching on the walls. Rats carry rabies. I want a lawyer!”

“Make friends with them, one rat to another, and maybe they won’t bother you,” Nikki called over her shoulder as she followed Yoko out to the tunnel, then down another tunnel to the war room.

Nikki flopped down on a chair at the big round table. “What are we supposed to do with her? I don’t even understand why we’re bothering with her, do you?”

Yoko shrugged. “She knows about Mrs. Moss and who she is. I don’t think the others are sure if she has a picture of Mrs. Moss after the surgery or not. She might have one and is holding on to it for just the right moment to up the ante from that tabloid guy. That’s just my opinion. Then there is the question of how many other people’s lives she’s ruined doing the same thing. I wonder what they’ll do with her.”

Nikki looked at her watch. It was almost noon. Jack should be waking up about now. She led the way to the moss-covered steps that would take them up to the main part of the Pinewood farmhouse.

“I’m kind of looking forward to seeing and talking to Mrs. Moss. How about you, Nikki?”

“Myra said both women were very nice. She said they were kind and gentle but scared out of their wits. I guess if I were married to a wife-beating control freak like Lincoln Moss, I would be scared out of my wits, too.”