She pointed to the cluster of Mylar balloons floating at the corner of the bed.

“Where’d they come from?”

“Came yesterday. Addressed to ‘Hector with the mad buzz cut on Pediatrics.’ The teddy bear too. But the card only said it was from a friend.”

Alicia seated herself on the bed next to where Hector lay clutching a new teddy bear dressed as a doctor.

Jack, she thought, smiling. You didn’t forget.

She rubbed her hand over Hector’s bristly hair.

“Hey, Hector.”

“Hey, Dr. Alith.”

He smiled up at her, but she didn’t like the look in his eyes. Something wrong here. She could sense it.

“How’s it going, guy?”

“My arm thtill hurths. You thaid you were gonna take the needle out.”

“Soon as I can. I promise.”

Still looking at Hector, she asked Sorenson, “How was his last chest?”

“Continued improvement,” the nurse said.

“Labs?”

“CBC back to normal.”

X rays and numbers on the upswing, yet Alicia couldn’t shake the sense that something was wrong. She’d learned to trust that sense. Despite all the years of booking, of learning how to take a good medical history, how to do a thorough physical exam, how to interpret pages of test results, sometimes you had to throw them all away and go on your instincts. Sometimes it all came down to looking at a patient and sensing an indefinable something about his health.

She listened to the child’s lungs, checked his lymph nodes, his belly. All normal.

Troubled, she put on a smile for Hector and rubbed his head again.

“You hang in there, Hector. We’ll get you out of here as soon as we can.”

Alicia rose and turned to Sorenson. “Get another chest on him, another CBC, and urine and blood cultures too.”

She noted the nurse’s questioning look as they moved toward the door.

“I hope I’m wrong,” Alicia said in a low voice, “but I’ve got a feeling Hector’s going sour on us.”

2.

2.

Alicia’s office phone beeped and she hit the intercom key.

“There’s a Detective Matthews on the line,” Raymond told her. “Says he needs to speak to you.”

Alicia stiffened. Just a reflex. No way Matthews could know about her meeting with that arsonist last night. Benny… that was the only name she had for the man. Nobody she’d been dealing with lately seemed to have a last name. He’d said he’d check out the address and get back to her.

Alicia had been looking over her shoulder, literally and figuratively, ever since.

So what did Matthews want? Could he have dug up something on Floyd Stevens already?

“Put him through.”

“Isn’t he the cop who was here yesterday about—?”

“The same.”

“Okay. Here he comes.”

She lifted the handset and said, “Good morning, Detective.”

“Will, remember?” he said.