Page 142 of Paranoid

“Now, Moretti,” Cade said and opened the door. To Voss, he said, “We’ll just be a minute more. Maybe you can walk Mrs. Moretti to the car.”

“Sure,” Voss agreed, giving him the what’s-up look but touching Nate’s mother on her elbow, then saying to her, “This way.”

“Richard?” his wife asked.

“I’ll just be a minute.” He offered her a weak smile as they passed.

Cade pushed the door closed. “So,” he said, “did you help Luke Hollander get out of this world, Doctor?”

Moretti’s knees started to buckle and Cade caught him.

“Did you?”

“Oh, God.” Moretti fell into a vacant visitor’s chair. “No,” he said, and shook his head vehemently. But his entire body had seemed to fold in on itself and he held his head in his hands. “But . . . but I didn’t do everything to save him. He was too far gone, he’d lost too much blood, his brain starved of oxygen, comatose, totally unresponsive. Had he lived, he would have been a vegetable.... When Ned said to ‘let him go,’ I . . . I wrestled with my conscience, with my oath as a doctor, with what was truly life and . . . oh, Jesus . . .”

“You didn’t do anything to save him,” Cade said, finally getting it.

“He was too far gone . . . and Ned said it would be a living death for Melinda to have her boy alive but not . . . unable to function. . . .”

“So you didn’t give him a chance.”

Moretti closed his eyes. “I tried . . . I did . . . but . . .”

“You let him die.”

* * *

Rachel’s phone hadn’t stopped buzzing all afternoon as text after text had come through:

Lila: I heard Nate is

missing! Is it true? I can’t believe it. It’s like our whole class is under attack. What’s going on? Call me!!

She was shocked and would have thought Lila was overreacting to some gossip that had no foundation until she read the subsequent texts:

Brit: Friends of Nate’s came into the coffee shop. I overheard them saying that he’s missing, didn’t show up at work, that the police are looking for him. Do you know anything?

Of course, Mercedes was all over it. Not only had she left a couple of voice messages asking Rachel and Harper for an interview, but also texted:

Do you know anything about Moretti going missing? I have a source who says he was supposed to meet Annessa last night. Is that true? Does this have anything to do with Annessa’s murder? Did Harper see him? I NEED to talk to you! Anytime. I sent you an e-mail, but please, CALL ME!

Even Billy Dee had texted:

What’s up with Moretti? What’s going on? His dad called me. Said he’s missing. Got any info? Kinda worried.

“Me too,” Rachel said aloud, then texted Cade:

Just heard Nate Moretti might be missing. True?

After laying down the law when she’d gotten home, her kids had surprised her. Dylan had actually tackled his room, and though it wasn’t up to her white-glove standards, at least it wasn’t a biohazard waste dump site any longer. Harper was doing homework.

“Trying to get a better grade in chemistry,” she’d said when Rachel had checked in on her daughter. Harper actually had been seated on her bed, books spread around her, as she typed on a laptop. “Maybe make the honor roll.”

“That would be great,” Rachel had said, and as Harper had turned back to her studies, she’d closed the door and stepped into the hall. Since when had Harper cared about her GPA? Probably the end of her freshman year, so why the sudden interest . . . ?

Oh.

It hit then.