“Officer McIntyre,” a soft feminine voice called out his name.
He glanced at Irina’s door, but it was still closed tight, the heavy steel too insulated for her voice to carry through it. She was also strapped to the bed, trapped and helpless. Unless what else she’d told the officers was true—she could read people’s minds.
The hair lifted on his neck again. Was she reading his mind? No, he’d locked out everyone, even his best friend, for too many years for someone to slip inside his head without his realizing it.
An echo of a little girl’s voice whispered from the depths of his buried memories. But time had undoubtedly distorted the facts; he had no special ability. He couldn’t hear anyone inside his head.
“Officer McIntyre,” the psychiatrist called out again as she stepped from another patient’s room and closed the door behind herself. Metal jangled as she slipped keys into the pocket of her white coat. The hospital, in the old area of Barrett, was antiquated, their budget too meager for updating. Most doors were locked and unlocked the old-fashioned way. “You’re still here. Did you change your mind? Is Jane Doe the woman you’re looking for?”
From the flirtatious gleam in her dark eyes and the coy lift of her lips, she was asking him something else entirely—if his interest in Irina Cooper was personal, not professional. Or if he had an interest in her, the doctor.
He shook his head. “No. She’s not the woman I’m looking for.”
He was dedicated to finding her for her sisters, for the sake of saving her from Roarke, but not for himself. He didn’t need anyone and he fully intended to keep his life that way. Single.
She smiled and tucked a strand of dark hair that had escaped her braid behind her ear. “Then…why are you still here?”
His gut twisted as he considered leading her on with lies and sweet talk. But he’d never wasted time practicing either. So he’d probably make a fool of himself trying to make a fool of her. He drew in a bracing breath. “I told you I’m a police officer, but I didn’t tell you that I’m suspended from duty.”
Her smile remained even as the gleam in her eyes dimmed. “I know. Since you didn’t have your badge, I called the precinct before I brought you in to see her. Your lieutenant explained your suspension.”
“He did?” Ty couldn’t explain it himself, couldn’t remember all the details of his last day on the job. He had been doing a favor for Ariel, checking on one of her students. After that…
“He told me you might have another reason for being here besides looking for someone’s lost sister. All you need for reinstatement to active duty is a psychiatric evaluation.” She paused and studied him before asking, “Is that why you’re still here?”
The idea of someone messing with his head, invading his thoughts and dredging up his past had bile rising in his throat. He swallowed it down before nodding. God, he hated putting himself out there. And if it were only his future he had to consider, he wouldn’t.
“I guess it’s time,” he conceded, holding in the sigh that expanded his lungs.
“You know, it’s going to take more than one session for a complete evaluation.”
He hoped it would take only one session for him to plan how to get Irina out. He nodded his agreement, unable to spit out the words. But then he asked, “So why’d you let me into her room when you knew I was suspended?”
She smiled. “Your lieutenant vouched for you and your integrity.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek as guilt flared. But his lieutenant knew about the witch hunt, even though he didn’t entirely believe in it. They’d had to bring in the police after the attempt on Ariel’s life and then when Elena’s daughter had been kidnapped. Both those incidents could have been avoided if Ty had acted faster than Roarke. He couldn’t take the chance of the guy beating him to Irina. Again.
Irina awoke to night. Or at least she assumed it was. No sunshine penetrated the shade and heavy drapes on the window. Not even an artificial light glowed. She could have been enveloped in the blackness of other people’s thoughts, but not a single spark glittered. And the only thoughts in her head were her own, full of fear and frustration.
How long had she slept? Minutes? Hours? Days? With the drugs pumping through the IV into her veins, she had no concept of time. She would have blamed months of malnutrition instead of sedatives for her exhaustion, but she was too desperate to waste time on sleep…unless she was drugged.
She flexed her wrists, her tendons pressing against the straps that pinched her skin. She had to figure out a way to get the psychiatrist to remove the restraints. Whenever she’d spoken last to the young woman, Irina had fought to remain calm even as frustration had nagged at her. She couldn’t waste any more time trying to convince the doctor of her sanity. The killer was coming for her.
Sparks flickered before her eyes, glowing like embers on a dying fire, then his voice spoke inside her head. I have to get the charm before I get any weaker. I have to kill her. And now I know where she is. So close. So helpless…
Goose bumps rose as her skin chilled. Her breath shuddered out of her lungs, but the pressure on her chest didn’t ease. She fought against the panic. She couldn’t give in to hysteria if she hoped to ever have the restraints removed. She dragged in deep breaths through her nose, trying to calm herself.
But a big hand closing over her mouth and nose cut off her breath. Oh God, she’d slept too long. She’d missed her opportunity to escape. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Not anymore.
He’d found her again. And he had her now.
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