“Or it could take longer,” Mr. Zielinski said in a half-hearted attempt at tempering his wife’s expectations.

She squeezed his hand and went on speaking to Ted. “The doctor was very encouraging.”

“And he also said it could be another day or two,” Mr. Zielinski said. “Her brain needs to heal, the nurse told us.”

The stark warnings of the student nurse, Khalil—the three-day horizon, measured in brain wave activity, ending in death, life as a vegetable, or some horror in between—ran through Ted’s mind for what must have been the hundredth time. This time, however, the thoughts broke out of the maddening loop and were gone. Ted could see that the IV was still connected to her arm and the pulse monitor on her right index finger was clasped in place.

A thousand questions burned to be first out of his mouth. “Does she? Is she?” He quashed an urge to yell in exultation. Her continued safety was his first concern. “Will they keep her here? Or do they move her to another ward?”

“No one’s said anything about moving her,” the mother said, revealing in her lack of surety that neither she nor her husband had yet considered this question.

Ted thought this a good time to make amends for his last conversation with Mr. Zielinski—and to suggest that their relief at Kenzie’s improvement must not sway them from continued vigilance. “Mr. Zielinski, I didn’t handle myself very well the first time we met. I tried to bully you—to frighten you.”

“You were trying to warn me,” Mr. Zielinski said.

“That’s kind. And maybe more forgiving than I deserve.”

“My wife told me about your visit yesterday. You managed to get her on your side. Let’s leave our misunderstandings in the past.”

Ted wasn’t finished. He needed them both to help keep Kenzie safe. “The danger was real. And that hasn’t changed. The police are doing next to nothing. We need to be here for her until she’s strong enough to fight her own battles.”

“We’re ready to listen,” Mrs. Zielinski said. Her husband nodded in agreement.

“Then let’s make a plan,” Ted said.

-60-

-60-

Cross County Ambulette Transportation Services had ceased operating as such two years earlier, according to Lester. Ted had called him while waiting out front at the hospital for Mohammed to return.

“The assets, including four vehicles, were purchased by Auburndale Transport and Limousine, which provides similar services but which is not, surprisingly, located in or anywhere near Auburndale, but in Brighton Beach.” Lester paused, expecting a response. “Moscow on the Atlantic, as it is otherwise known.”

“Keep talking,” Ted said.

“I called them. The lady on the phone spoke with a Russian accent. We didn’t get very far.”

“What did she say? Anything?”

“She said, ‘Nyet.’ She said that a lot,” Lester said.

“How could she resist your charms?”