Morgan knocked on Ashleys open door on the seventh floor of the hospitals east wing. This part of the hospital looked like any other office building with a large central area for cubicle workers and offices around the perimeter. She looked up from the papers on her desk at his knock. Damn, she was beautiful. It had been close to a decade since hed first seen her across the room at a hospital function and she still took his breath away. Some silver had started to find its way into her blonde hair and there were some wrinkles beside her eyes that hadnt been there before, but he thought those things only made her more beautiful.

Morgan, what are you doing here? Unsaid, but implied in her question, was the fact that shed suggested he make himself scarce for a while and as usual he wasnt going with the program.

He slipped into her office and pulled the door shut behind him for a little more privacy. I stopped by to drop off these. He held up a sheaf of papers. Hed actually managed to get them notarized. It hadnt been that difficult and he felt a pang of guilt over how long it had taken him to take care of the errand. She asked so little of him, both in their marriage and now. He should have done more when he had the chance.

She tilted her head to one side and regarded him with those bright blue eyes. You could have put those in the mail, Morgan. I didnt need you to deliver them personally.

I thought Id say hello, too.

She snorted. Sure you did. You didnt even do that when were married unless you wanted something. So what is it? What do you want?

He sat down in the chair across from her and looked down at his hands in his lap. Was that true? Had he only stopped by to see his wife when he wanted something from her? God, hed been such a tool. No wonder shed left him. Im working with the FBI as a consultant, he said.

Setting down the pen she held, she nodded. And you think I can help somehow?

I do, Ash. I have a theory. I think whoever is targeting people might be someone who worked here at the hospital and doesnt anymore. Someone who was forced to leave for some reason and is angry at the people he thinks are responsible. It made so much sense. The person would understand hospital shifts so hed have an inkling of when people would be coming and going as well as medical knowledge.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Okay. I see how you got there. It feels pretty extreme, though.

As extreme as three dead women? Morgan countered.