“Yes.”
“I still have contacts in active military circles,” he said, watching her with uncanny closeness. “I could have them do some checking.”
She dropped her purse. She bent and picked it up. “Sorry, it’s been an unsettling day,” she said. “I’m clumsy. No, thanks, it’s already been checked out. He disappeared in those mountains where they think the remnants of Al-Qaeda were hiding in a secret base. They were certain that he was killed, they just were reluctant to tell me.”
She hadn’t looked up once.
“I see,” he said.
She was hoping for an interruption when Winnie Sinclair came up with two cups of coffee. She handed one to her husband. “You’ve had a long day, you should go.”
“Yes,” Joceline said gratefully. “You’ll call me, if there’s any change?” she added worriedly.
“Of course we will,” Winnie assured her.
“The assistant D.A. asked about you,” Kilraven said. “She’s still hoping you might jump ship and go to work for her,” he added, teasing.
“There might be a real possibility of that,” Joceline said on a heavy sigh. “They’re talking about cutting staff in my office. Betty has seniority, so if one of us is cut, it will be me.” She shook her head. “This has been a bummer of a day.”
Kilraven frowned. “They’d never let you go.”
She smiled sadly. “They’ll let anybody go, if they have to. I don’t have any illusions about being the best administrative assistant on earth.” She sighed. “Now I have to worry about that and my boss, and my son …”
“Not about Markie,” Kilraven assured her. “Rourke will make sure no harm comes to him. Or to you.”
Joceline ground her teeth together. “Okay.”
“And Jon will be all right,” he added.
She bit her lip. “He had blood on his mouth.”
“Joceline, he was shot in a lung,” he reminded her. “He would have been spitting up blood when they found him. Thank God he was in sight of a main street when it happened!”
“Yes,” she whispered, hurting as she considered how frightening and how painful it would have been, to have experienced what her boss had—to be shot in the back.
“Now go home to your son,” Winnie said gently. “He will keep you from brooding too much.”
“The chief brooder is in there.” She indicated the cubicle where Cammy was still sitting with Jon. “He does it much better than I do.”
“He’ll be fine. Just keep the office together until he recovers,” Kilraven told her.
She smiled. That was optimistic. She had to be optimistic, too. “Okay. Do you know any really good defense attorneys, by the way?”
Kilraven blinked. “Not really, but I can ask around. Why do you need one?”
“I don’t, yet. As long as Rourke stays out of sight.”
Kilraven chuckled. “He is a piece of work, isn’t he?”
“Saved your butt, my darling,” Winnie reminded him with a hug.
He returned it and kissed her hair. “Yes, but he was being obnoxious.”
“It’s what he does best.”
“He’ll keep Markie safe,” Kilraven reminded Joceline. “He’s good at what he does.”
“Which would be what, exactly, when he isn’t returning favors for you?” Joceline asked curiously.
“Never you mind,” he said firmly. “That’s need to know, and you don’t.”
“Spoilsport.”
She smiled at both of them and sent one last, worried glance toward where Jon Blackhawk lay, so quiet and still, before she left the waiting room.
“Something’s fishy,” Kilraven murmured.
“About what?” Winnie asked.
He didn’t tell her. He had his suspicions, all wrapped up in mystery and Joceline’s reticence. But he was going to do some digging, when he had time.
He and Winnie went back to ICU to join Cammy.
“Has she gone, that awful girl?” Cammy asked angrily.
“She’s his right arm at work,” Kilraven reminded her firmly. “She’s stood by him when half a dozen other women would have run screaming out the door.”
“I don’t like her. She’s not a moral person.”
“What if she’d ended the pregnancy, would that make her any more moral in your eyes, Cammy?” Kilraven asked coldly. “What if it had been you, pregnant with Jon?”
Cammy swallowed, hard, and averted her eyes. Her jaw tightened. He was provoking nightmares and she couldn’t even tell him. She couldn’t tell anyone. She smoothed Jon’s hair. “He looks so pale.”
“His system has been through a shock,” Kilraven reminded her. “Been there, done that.”
“Yes, I know, my dear,” she said gently, and she hugged him. “I’m sorry. I’m being terrible. I was so worried …” Tears stung her eyes.
He hugged her. “Jon’s going to be fine.”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “I thought the murders were neatly wrapped up. But there’s a new trail emerging. I just found out that the guy we think did this,” he indicated Jon, “has a brother-in-law who may also have been involved in Melly’s death.”
“What?” Cammy exclaimed, horrified.
“That’s not all. Now he’s after Joceline’s little boy.” He wasn’t certain of that, but it was a good guess.
Cammy was conflicted. She didn’t like that Joceline person. But she loved children. Anybody’s children. “That’s too bad.”
“It is.”
“She doesn’t have a live-in boyfriend or someone who could protect him?”
“Joceline lives alone. But I sent Rourke to watch the boy.”
“Rourke.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, on the other hand, he is a bachelor and of an age to marry.” She was thoughtful. If Joceline married Rourke, she’d move to South Africa, far from Jon. She smiled. “Perhaps they might like each other.”
Kilraven didn’t reply. He could see wheels turning in Cammy’s mind, and suddenly he felt sorry for Rourke.
JOCELINE dropped her things off at her apartment. She was going to be late getting Markie, but she’d phoned and the owner, especially under the circumstances, told her to take her time that she’d be glad to wait. She’d heard about Jon’s shooting on the news. She was very sorry. Not nearly as sorry as Joceline, who was sick and worried out of her mind.
If he died, how would she live with the secret she kept? It gnawed at her like a dog with a bone. She was so upset that her hands shook as she locked her door and went out to get into her car. She thought she saw a shadow move, but she was certain it was her imagination. She was so much on edge, she was seeing things.
She tried to put Jon’s condition in the back of her mind. She didn’t want to upset Markie. She thanked the owner profusely when she picked up Markie at the day care center. He had new drawings to show her. “This is my teacher,” he said, showing her a sketch he’d done, which was crude but recognizable. “And this is a dog that came to the playground. A man came in a truck and took him away,”