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If a man could die from regret, then he was living his last moments.
She wasn’t going to make it. His heart was still fighting the knowledge, but his mind knew the truth. Olivia, the love of his life, was dying before his eyes, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it from happening.
She still breathed, but it wasn’t his imagination that her respirations were shallower than before. There was a possibility she would have to be intubated soon. She might stay in a vegetative state forever, or die without ever regaining consciousness. Whatever she’d been given was an unknown entity.
He had feared she had been given the same drug that Iris had used to kill herself, but there appeared to be no similarities between the two. They had checked that immediately, before Iris’s body and medical records had been stolen.
Specialists from all over the world had been consulted, and not one of them had been able to offer an ounce of hope.
The phone in his pocket buzzed. Hawke clicked answer without looking at the screen. “Yes?”
“How’s Sleeping Beauty? She dead yet?”
Hawke jerked up, his body on full alert. The voice was distorted. He couldn’t even tell if it was male or female. Did he know this person? Why disguise the voice otherwise?
“Who is this?”
“You really want to spend our time talking about my identity? I would think you’d be more interested in learning how to save Olivia’s life.”
“You’re right. What was she given?”
“Now that would be spoiling the fun. The question should be, is there an antidote? And the answer to that would be yes. However, she’ll need it soon, or she’ll never wake up.”
“What do you want in return?”
“I don’t think you’re a stupid man, Mr. Hawthorne, but I’m beginning to think that Iris doesn’t know you as well as she said she does. I want her, of course. You never should have taken her.”
Two good things. This man—he’d assume the person was a man for now—didn’t know Iris was dead. Which meant he wasn’t the one who’d stolen her body. But the best news of all was that there was an antidote. Unless the man was lying. Didn’t matter. Hawke had no choice but to pretend to give this bastard whatever he asked for.
“How do you want to do this?” Hawke asked.
“Simple. Bring Iris to me. I’ll exchange her for the antidote that will save Livvy’s life.”
“How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
“You don’t, but what choice do you have?”
And there was the crux.
“Where and when?”
“Cartagena. I’ll text you the location.”
“When do we meet?”
“Friday. One p.m.”
“That’s two days from now. Olivia could be dead by then.”
“Then you wouldn’t have to deliver Iris, would you?”
Relief rushed through him. If Olivia was that close to death, no way would he delay the meeting.
“Very well.”
“Just you and Iris. I see anyone else, I put a bullet in you, and your Livvy is gone forever.”
“Just send me the details. I’ll make it happen.”