“Isn’t there anything else you can do?” she asked. There must be something.

“I’ll check with the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children and the FBI’s National Crime Information Center for missing females who fit the basic description you provided. We’ll keep looking. The odds are against us, but sometimes we get lucky.”

“I understand,” Hannah said. “Please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you. And take care, ma’am. Keep in mind that he stole your purse and phone. He has personal information about you. Have you canceled your credit cards?”

“Yes. I did that while I was in the ER.” She’d been carrying a small evening bag containing just the bare essentials, but her wallet had been inside.

“Be on the lookout for identity theft.”

Hannah nodded. The cop left, leaving her empty and hopeless.

“I’m sorry.” Royce moved to the bedside. He reached for her hand, then stopped with a frown. “I know you wanted to help that girl.”

“He was going to hurt her. Really hurt her. I could see it in his face.” The images were permanently branded into Hannah’s mind. The cold anger in the man’s eyes. The girl’s fear. Was she still alive?

“I’m sorry.” Royce shifted, glancing toward the door as if willing Grant to appear.

Grant . . .

Last night’s incident would disturb him. “Look, my brother doesn’t need to know all the details.”

Grant had suffered post-traumatic stress. He was doing better since he’d left the military, but crimes against kids were Grant’s weak spot. She didn’t want anything to disrupt the peace he’d found or impede his progress. Why should they both suffer?

Someone knocked on the door frame. Tears burned the corners of her eyes as Grant walked into the room. The safety and comfort his presence offered flooded her with relief.

Grant’s gaze swept over Hannah, his blue eyes assessing her with military precision. She suspected he’d never truly be able to shake the soldier inside of him. “What happened?”

She offered a weak smile. “I got in between a big guy and his girlfriend.”

Grant’s eyes hardened.

“What can I say?” She picked at the blanket weave. “You know me. All leap, no look.”

Royce cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.” Hannah introduced them. “Royce Black. My brother, Major Grant Barrett.”

“It’s just Grant now. I’ve dropped the major, remember?” Grant shook Royce’s hand. “Thanks for calling me.”

Royce summed up her condition in a few sentences. Grant nodded and asked Royce a few questions about her follow-up care.

“Hello, I’m right here.” Hannah waggled her fingers.

“Thank God.” With an indulgent expression he usually reserved for the children, Grant leaned over and kissed her cheek. He turned back to Royce. “You’re sure she’s supposed to be released today? She looks terrible.”