Mac tucked the photo into his pocket. “We’ll find her.”

“We’d better. If she didn’t make it to dialysis today, she’s going to get sick fast. He won’t have to kill her. Without treatment, she’s just days from death.”

“I’ll start looking for her in the neighborhood.” He ended the call, left the apartment, and drove the few blocks to the dialysis center.

He walked into the dialysis center and flashed a wide smile at the woman in her fifties wearing maroon scrubs behind the reception desk. “I’m looking for Gianna Leone.”

She gave him a tired stare. “Privacy regulations prevent me from giving you any information.”

Mac sobered. “Gianna is missing. I need to know if she showed up for dialysis today, and if she didn’t, then how quickly she’s going to deteriorate.”

“Hold on.” The woman disappeared for a few seconds. When she returned, she showed him to a private office.

A tall woman in gray slacks and a white blouse rose behind the desk. “You said Gianna is missing?”

“Yes. Did she show up for dialysis today or not?” Mac couldn’t get the images of dead bodies out of his head. He couldn’t let that happen to Gianna. He had to find her. “I don’t want to look at her medical files, I just need to know how long she’s been gone and how much time we have to find her.”

“I could lose my job for this, but I’m worried about her, too.” The woman sighed. “She didn’t come today. We called her, but she didn’t answer her phone.”

The anxiety in Mac’s belly flip-flopped. “How much time does she have?”

“Some of our patients have partial kidney function, but not Gianna. She has practically no kidney function at all. Her last treatment was Thursday. Without dialysis to filter the toxins and fluid from her body, she won’t last long.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One

At the station, Stella slipped into the conference room. On the other side of the table, Lance stood, studying the crime scene photos, notes, and pictures of evidence that were tacked to their murder board. Stella’s case notes were spread out on the table. Pinned to the left side of the board were pictures of Dena and Missy before and after death. On the opposite side, photos of Adam Miller and Noah Spivak stared back at Stella.

“I’ve heard you’ve been busy.” Lance turned and regarded her with serious eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Stella sank into a chair, fear for Gianna a cold, queasy lump in her belly. Where was she? Stella’s trace on her phone had turned up nothing. Her phone was either off or the battery was dead.

“Is your house secure?”