Mac knew Josh wasn’t seeing Gianna. He was envisioning his brother’s girlfriend standing thigh-deep in the flooded cell. Josh was beyond reason. Mac inserted the hairpin into the handcuff lock. The angle was tricky, and he had to pick the lock blind and one-handed. If he moved his gaze, Josh might notice.

This was Mac’s sole chance of escape.

His only hope to save Gianna.

The lock gave with a thin click.

Josh froze. His head cocked and turned slowly toward Mac.

Oh shit.

Mac yanked his hand free. He snatched the knife from the rolling table and cut the leather straps around his ankles, but the blade was useless on the handcuffs. Josh dropped the tablet and lunged toward him. Grabbing Josh’s shirtfront with his freed hand, Mac slammed his forehead against the bridge of Josh’s nose. Bone crunched and blood flowed. Josh stumbled back, both hands covering his face.

The remaining cuff rattled on his wrist. He’d dropped the hairpin. Mac searched the bedding, but it was gone.

Josh staggered across the room and reached for the Taser.

He was going to kill Mac and let Gianna drown.

Mac yanked on the handcuffs. He searched the gurney but couldn’t find the hairpin.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Josh had the Taser. Mac stretched out an arm, snatched the knife from the rolling tray, and threw it at Josh. The point struck him in the bicep. The Taser fell from his hand and hit the water with a splash.

Mac grabbed the handrail of the gurney. Dragging it behind him, he plowed toward Josh. The doctor turned and fled toward a rear doorway.

The water rose above Mac’s knees. How deep was the flood in Gianna’s cell? He didn’t have much time. He couldn’t let her drown, trapped. He pictured her tilting her head to the ceiling for a last breath of air, imagined the panic whirling in her chest as water closed over her head, her eyes shining with terror.

No!

He plunged his free hand into the water, the futility of finding a hairpin in two feet of water sent fear surging cold into his throat.

Leaning on the door, Gianna shivered. Her hands ached from banging on the wood, and she could feel the bruises forming all over her body. He hadn’t touched her since bringing her here and locking her in. He hadn’t had to. Zapping her with that Taser had pretty much tapped her strength.

“Let me out of here you sick son-of-a-bitch.” She pounded on the door, her face turned toward the ceiling-mounted camera.

He was watching.

Watching the water rise.

Letting her drown.

Nausea rose in her throat. Dena and Missy had both been murdered, and she was the next victim. If the water kept rising at this rate, her cell would be full in minutes.