Page 32

A slight sound awakened her, and Reese raised herself to one elbow, blinking drowsily. Soft light edged the window blind. Morning, barely. Her fingers searched the bedside table for the phone. She brought it up and squinted at the screen to read a text message from an unknown number.

Her lips flattened. As Hayes said, paying for information elicited greed, which colored the veracity of anything she learned.

But she was starting at zero. If the CNA really knew anything about her brother, he was already ahead of Reese.

And she could work on substantiating his input before any future meeting.

Reese squinted at the time on the cell’s screen. She had an hour to get dressed and across town. She texted a response.

See u there.

She sprang from the bed, trying to throw off the remnants of sleep.

She’d need to hurry, and even then traffic might delay her arrival.

She washed her face, pulled on some clothes, and settled the ball cap on her head.

Grabbing her purse, she shoved her feet into a pair of sneakers, hoping she could rouse Hayes and prod him to a similar speed.

But when Reese left her bedroom, she saw that he was already up and settled on the balcony outside, his back to her, a pot of coffee on the tiny table there.

Another man was next to him. While she watched, Hayes reached over and refilled the guest’s coffee mug.

A flash of recognition pierced her. The deputy from the beach yesterday. Mendes.

Frozen by uncertainty, Reese could only imagine Hayes’s reaction if he discovered she’d left the apartment without him.

But from the looks of it, he and Mendes were settled in.

She wouldn’t be able to move him fast enough to meet Kervin, and she couldn’t get out of the place without the alarm he’d installed alerting him.

But she’d heard nothing when the man arrived. And the patio door was closed. What were the chances Hayes had resecured the alarm when he needed to walk the deputy back through the apartment?

She sidled to the entry. Unlocked it, then slowly eased it open. The sensor he’d mounted flashed but emitted no sound. Reese slipped out, closing the door behind her. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.

And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind there’d be repercussions for her choice. He’d likely call to give her hell. But until she could get inside the medical facility, she needed someone who could begin to fill in the picture of the brother she hadn’t seen in over two decades.

She was late. Reese couldn’t find an open parking space in front of the restaurant, so she rounded the structure to the back.

She threw the vehicle into park and grabbed her purse before exiting the car and hurrying around to the front.

It was only a few minutes past the leeway Kervin had allotted, so she rushed to the entrance, eyeing the place with a degree of trepidation.

It was more diner than restaurant and had seen better days. The foggy glass of the large window revealed a curved countertop with stools lining it, most of them occupied. Reese spotted Kervin, clad again in a white uniform, sitting at a table in the corner. He wasn’t alone.

She stepped up the crumbling curb. There was a woman standing over him.

Not a waitress, as she’d first surmised.

Far older than the CNA, she had her frizzy gray hair in a bun and wore a flowered blousy top and navy pants.

Her skinny arms were braced on his table, her face lowered to Kervin’s.

If his expression was any indication, the conversation wasn’t a pleasant one.

His response, whatever it was, had the woman slapping both of her palms against the table as if in frustration, and then storming away toward the back of the diner.

The CNA picked up his cell and glanced at it before rising.

Reese pulled open the door and stepped inside, instantly drawing his attention.

He waited until she reached him. “I was getting ready to take off.”

“You didn’t give me much warning.”

“Let’s go outside. I’m gonna have to leave soon to make it to work on time.”

Reese waited for him to pay at the counter before following him out the way she’d entered to an older model white Toyota in desperate need of a wash on the side of the lot.

The space was tucked between the diner and an auto shop and offered a measure of privacy while still in view of the street. Public enough to satisfy even Hayes.

Thoughts of him had her pulling her cell from her purse and turning down the volume. She needed a few uninterrupted minutes with Kervin. Pushing aside thoughts of Hayes’s reaction, she concentrated on the CNA. “What do you have for me?”

The smirk on his face only added to his resemblance to a furtive rodent. “This is strictly pay-for-play. I need cash in advance to give you anything.”

“I’ve already paid, and for very little,” she countered.

“That bought my cooperation. The next installment is due before I share information. I could get fired for this. We have to sign a stack of nondisclosures to get hired at the grippy sock palace.”

Reese recognized the slang phrase for psychiatric facility.

She just wasn’t sure how she felt about hospital personnel using the term.

Digging into a small pocket of her purse, she pulled out another couple of bills and handed them to him.

He palmed them smoothly, shoving them into his pants pocket, then he plucked the vape pen from another, brought it to his lips, and lit it.

“Okay, doll. What do you want to know?”

“It’s Reese.”

He turned his head to exhale. “Oh, I know who you are. Didn’t put it together at first yesterday, with you talking about your brother, but the name was familiar.

Now I know why. You’re the chick who escaped that serial killer.

The—what’s it— Trifecta guy.” He brought the pen to his lips again, his gaze avid.

“Bet you got some hair-raising stories to tell.”

“But then you’d have to pay me .”

Disappointment flickered across his expression, but he exhaled again and checked the time on his cell.

“Okay. I know Ben. Knew him,” he corrected.

“Haven’t worked around him for years. He’s an LT—long-timer, which means he was there long before I got there and will be around long after I leave.

” His gaze flashed to hers but when she didn’t smile, he shrugged.

“TL is a good-sized place, but if you work there a while and move around a lot like I do, you know most of the patients in the wards at least by name. I’d always talk to him if I worked in his area.

He had a sweet setup in his room. He’s a gamer, and he’s better equipped than any of my buddies.

I even sat down a couple times and played a round with him, when he was in the mood.

Equipment like his is pricey, so I figured he had family money.

Government subsidies don’t even cover a month at that place. ”

Reese was aware. She’d seen the monthly expense sheets for his care, and she assumed the hospital costs on it were after the benefits were applied.

“Thing is, I never saw none of his family there. Most patients, at least after the initial weeks, get visiting privileges. But they might’ve come around when I wasn’t working, too.

Ben, though, he’s not a real people person.

Would rather be in his room than out in the common areas, and the doctors are real strict about all the patients needing daily social time.

Not to mention the group therapy they have.

Most of the occasions that he freaked out was because they wanted him out of his room, joining in activities. ”

It was like someone was telling her a story about a stranger.

And that was exactly what her brother was.

Reese’s memories of Ben before he’d left their home were hazed by her fear of him.

She’d never gone into his bedroom, so she hadn’t seen what he was interested in.

She’d avoided him as much as possible, and had learned early the cost of being alone with him.

“What do you mean about freaking out?”

Kervin gave a short laugh. “Sometimes the patients don’t want to do what they’re told, and…

” He held his hands up, fingers spread to indicate an explosion.

“They go off the rails and it’s a code nine.

All hands on deck. Or the doctor discovers one of them had been spitting out their meds.

Or they’re on the wrong ones. Or some other ever-lovin’ thing sets them off. ”

She found herself fascinated in a bizarre way. “What happens then?”

“If they can’t be de-escalated, we buzz for help. Then it’s restraints and chemical time.”

Her stomach clenched. A dim memory bloomed.

She’d been four or five, and her family had rented a house on the beach.

Reese was in bed for the evening when the fighting started.

She’d climbed out to peek from her door to see her parents in the living room, furniture overturned, with their arms wrapped around Ben, trying to hold him immobile.

Her brother had been red-faced, screaming and fighting like a wounded animal.

She didn’t remember much else, but she recalled the terror of seeing him out of control, her mother’s tears, and her dad with his hair awry, wild-eyed and frustrated.

“Sounds frightening,” she said flatly.

He shrugged. “It’s not boring there, that’s for sure. My point is, your brother had his moments, but when I first started working, I didn’t see him lose it often. But then something changed. It happened more and more and then a few years ago I came to work one day and he was gone.”

“Gone?”