Footsteps pounded along the walkway and Matt backed through to the kitchen and opened the door.
“Man, am I glad you’re here.”
“So, what’s up?” Phil Halliburton took off his outer coat, hung it on the coat stand by the door. Early forties, he was tall and slender, well barbered dark hair, the kind of guy who spent time and effort cultivating a polished image. He looked more like a celebrity lawyer than a doctor. He rubbed Barney’s ears while trying to keep the Lab away from his dark slacks. “So what’s the big mystery?”
“There she is,” Matt said.
Halliburton looked at the girl pressed into the angle between bookshelves and wall, then back at Matt. He looked in shock. “Good God, Matt. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I came across a bunch of kids in Encinal. This one was lying on the ground, looking half-dead, so I brought her home and called you.”
“You what? A bunch of kids? What kids?”
“I don’t know, Phil. Just kids, obviously illegals. It was going to rain, and she looked so sick. I couldn’t leave her.”
“You kidnapped her?”
“No, I didn’t kidnap her. What are you talking about?”
“What else would you call it? Doesn’t look as if she came willingly. What’s that you’ve given her?”
“Peppermint tea, with a lot of sugar. I tried to hand it to her and she grabbed the knife.”
“Matt, you should have left her there, whoever she is, and called the authorities.”
“Yes, well, maybe, but it didn’t seem the thing to do at the time.”
Halliburton crossed the living room, but stopped when the girl jabbed the knife at him. “What’s her name?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything.” Then Matt remembered the girl Kanita patting her mouth and shaking her head, and he realized why Hasan was willing to let her leave.
“I don’t think she can speak.”
“Can she hear?”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure she can.”
Phil looked from the girl to Matt. “Oh, man, you’ve got yourself into one hell of a mess here. Well, if I can get the knife away from her, I can give her a shot, calm her down. Then we can figure out where to go from there.” Halliburton took another step toward her. The girl pressed her back deeper into the corner and kept the knife pointed toward him. “Come on, honey, put down the knife,” he said firmly. He moved closer.
Her eyes locked on his, the girl pressed the point of the blade into the soft place beneath her own chin.
“Back off, Phil,” Matt said. “She’s going to hurt herself.”
Halliburton ignored him. “Now, you’re not going to do that, are you, honey? Come on, be a good girl, put the knife on the table.”
Matt could see the point pressing deeper into the delicate skin. “Phil, back off, she means it.”
“Don’t worry, she’s bluffing.”
The skin broke, blood trickled down the girl’s throat.
Matt grabbed Halliburton’s arm. “This is not going to work. I’m going to call the sheriff’s department.”
“No, wait a minute. This kid’s in shock. Look at her, her skin’s gray, and she’s sweating. That’s not a fever. Get a bunch of deputies in here slamming about, this could escalate into a tragedy.”
His eyes on the girl, Matt said, “You just said—” He stopped as the outside door opened.
Wriggling with joy, his tail waving from side to side, Barney hurled himself against the small, slight figure in the doorway.
Ginn Chang staggered, dropped to her knees, put both arms around him. “Oh, Barns. I love you, too.” She buried her face in his neck, as if giving herself time to ease into the room. “I’ve missed you, Barns. I’ve missed you so much.” She held Barney’s head, kissed him between his eyes, then looked up at Matt.
Matt drank her in. “Ginn.”
She was wearing a bright red pea coat, a heavy white turtle-neck, jeans, the elegance of her French mother as apparent as the delicate bone structure and bloodlines of her Chinese father. Matt’s mouth was suddenly dry, his heart bumped unevenly. She hadn’t been here for ten months, the longest ten months of his life and he hadn’t heard her light step along the deck. He couldn’t see her fabulous hair, it was pushed under a red woolen watchcap—unless she’d had it cut off, an awful thought. She looked wonderful. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Well, here I am. What did I interrupt?” Ginn got to her feet, took off the hat, freeing a shoulder length mass of shining black hair. She shook her head, removed the coat, threw it on the back of a kitchen chair. She looked at the girl, took in the knife. Her eyebrows shot up. “What’s going on here?”
“This is the girl I told you about on the phone.”
“No kidding. What’s she doing with a knife?”
“She grabbed it when I tried to hand her a cup of tea.”
“He was just explaining to me how he found her in the canyon and decided to bring her home because she was sick,” Phil said. “Good to see you, Ginn.”
“You, too, Phil.” Her tone was less than convincing. Matt knew she’d never had the same regard for Phil that he had. As far as she was concerned, Phil was just one more guy who wanted everything but marriage, and was breaking Annie Lautner’s heart in the process. Matt felt his face flush as she turned back to him. “Did you call Bobby?”
“No,” Matt said. He was beginning to realize how crazy all this sounded. “I found this kid lying on the ground in Encinal. There were several others, and they were all so terrified I promised I wouldn’t contact the police.”
Ginn glanced at the girl. “She looks pretty bad.” She started across the room, the dog following. The girl’s black eyes darted from the men to Ginn, and the point of the knife pressed deeper into the soft spot beneath her chin. Beads of fresh blood oozed from the wound. Ginn stopped well short, and dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor, eye-level with the girl. Barney leaned against her and Ginn put an arm over him and drew him closer.
She smiled and said gently, “You look very tired. Why don’t I make you something to eat, and then we’ll talk. No one is going to hurt you, sweetie.”
The girl’s dark eyes swept across the two men, then came back to Ginn. The hand holding the knife was shaking.
Ginn picked up the mug, put it to her nose and inhaled. She smiled. “Nice. Peppermint. Have some.” She held it out. The girl shrunk back. Ginn sipped the tea. “Mmm. Good.” Slowly, carefully, she pulled the small end table within the girl’s reach, replaced the mug and got to her feet. “Have you got any eggs, Matt?”
“Yes, sure.”
“This girl is in shock, suicidal, probably psychotic. Eggs won’t cure that,” Halliburton said.
“Can’t hurt. Why don’t you two go sit at the kitchen table while I fix something for her to eat. Give her some space.”
Ginn moved around easily in the kitchen that had been hers for five years. She scrambled eggs, toasted bread, put oatmeal cookies on a plate, warmed milk. She placed the food on a tray, carried it over to the table and put it down. As if the last of her strength was deserting her, the girl had leaned her back against the wall. Even with both hands wrapped around the handle of the knife, she