Two hours later, the ER physician confirmed her injuries were minor. Distracted and hurried, he scribbled on her chart. “The nurse will be in with discharge papers in a few minutes. Do you have a ride home?”

“I called a friend.” Damian was on his way. She’d also called the hotel and asked Gerome to walk Kirra.

“Keep the abrasions clean. Ice will help any swelling. You can take ibuprofen for pain.” And he was gone.

Sitting on the gurney, she ran a finger over a scratch on the silver case of her cell phone. The night didn’t seem real.

“Dr. Hancock.”

She startled at the familiar voice. “Yes.”

Detective Jackson parted the privacy curtain.

Why was he here?

“I heard about your nosedive into Broad Street. Traffic was backed up for an hour.” He took a few steps to stand next to the bed. Instead of a suit, he was dressed in jeans and a loose blue sweater that didn’t quite conceal the bulge of his weapon at his hip. Was he off duty? The mocha tint of his skin didn’t completely camouflage dark smudges under his eyes. Perhaps he didn’t take much time off in the middle of an urgent case.

His gaze moved over her, pausing on the gauze taped to her hands, knees, and chin.

She rubbed her temple with her fingertips.

“What happened?” Jackson’s voice was less hostile than it had been in the police station. Was his change of tone part of an attempt to gain her confidence, or was he sincere?

“I felt a hand push into my back, but I hoped someone knocked into me by accident. The sidewalk was very crowded.”

“Maybe.” Jackson shrugged. “But maybe not. There’s already one museum employee dead and another missing. I think you should be more careful.”

“I wasn’t expecting hailing a cab to be dangerous.”

Jackson changed his angle. “I know you went to talk to Heath Yeager the other day.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid for Zoe.” Louisa met his flat gaze. “Are you making any progress on her case?”

“Some.”

Which told her nothing.

Movement on the other side of the curtain interrupted the interview.

“Louisa!” A male voice sent a wave of sickening panic through Louisa. The curtain parted again, and Blaine stepped through. “Oh my God. I saw them load you into the ambulance, but no one would tell me where they took you.”

He moved closer.

Louisa recovered her voice. She’d also recovered from the shock of seeing him earlier. In fact, the impact with the street seemed to have knocked the self-pity right out of her. She was done with Blaine. She wouldn’t allow him to hold any more sway over her. He’d done enough damage. “Get out, Blaine.”