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I waitedoutside the exam room while the nurse checked Vanessa.

The door opened, and Nurse Amy waved me inside. “She’s fine, but she needs to rest and take it easy for the next few days. It was a traumatic experience. The doctor will be in shortly to examine her again before she’s discharged.”

“Thank you.” I walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in mine. “It’s all good news.”

She looked at my cane. “Did you use your cane to unlock the grid?”

I showed her the bottom portion that held lock-picking tools, screwdrivers, and other supplies.

“Wow. That’s an innovative cane,” she said. “I can’t believe your curator is among the ten people the police saved. How’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. I had to make sure you were okay first.”

She placed a hand over mine. “Go check on him. The doctor should be in soon.”

“Okay. If you need anything, shout.” I kissed her forehead.

“I’ll be fine. Go.” Laughing, she pointed to the door.

I walked down the hallway to Joseph’s room and sat in the chair beside his hospital bed. “How are you doing, my friend?”

“Better now,” he said. “Sorry, the workload must’ve piled up while I was gone.”

“Stop being a workaholic.” I shook my head, looking at his long gray hair that desperately needed a trim.

“Takes one to know one.” He smirked.

“I see you didn’t lose your sense of humor. Nothing to worry about. Agnes took care of everything.”

His eyes brightened, revealing an affection I hadn’t seen before. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“Something going on with you and Agnes?” I asked.

“Not really. It’s mostly me secretly loving her for years.” He chuckled. “It all started when she fixed my chair and repaired the sink in the office bathroom.”

“You know how to do that,” I said, loving the spark in his eyes. He would recover from this horrific event.

“Yeah, but she’s better at it. Especially in her maintenance overalls. So damn hot.”

I laughed, my shoulders shaking. I let him talk about Agnes for a while.

“You know, after coming so close to death, I realize that life is too short.” He sat up and shifted the IV tube aside. “I’m going to tell her how I feel.”

“Go for it.” There was nothing better than seeing my curator and maintenance manager together. They’d make a fabulous couple.

“Want to talk about how you got into this dangerous situation?”

“As your curator, I like to attend local art exhibits. There was an exhibit near the Canal Walk.Small event with fantastic art. I overheard two people talking about you and an event in Boston.I turned around and saw the First Lady and some guy. She didn’t seem as friendly in person as she did on TV. I think she recognized me but said nothing.”

“You jotted down an art auction event in Boston on your calendar.”

“That’s what the First Lady mentioned.” He nodded. “I never got the chance to tell you. The next day, I took a stroll along theCanal Walk after dinner. A man walked past me and jabbed a needle into my arm.”

“Was this the guy who was with the First Lady?” I asked, showing him a picture of Dr. Messina.

“Yes. He’s also the doctor monitoring everything. He shoved me into a trunk or van—I wasn’t sure. Then I heard him call the First Lady on speaker.”

Anger surged through me. Why was the First Lady involved in kidnapping and injecting people with dangerous drugs?