“Them?”

“I guess he was her date. They were on their way to a party. If it’s an emergency, I can call her and tell her to come back. I have her number.”

“That’s the problem. Dr. Lambert has been calling her phone for over an hour. He thinks it must be on the fritz.” He held up a slip of paper with a telephone number handwritten on it. “Is this the number you have for her?”

She pulled her phone from the pocket of her tunic and accessed her contacts. “That’s it.”

“Do you by chance have another?”

“Only the number of her answering service.”

“Dr. Lambert tried that. They struck out reaching her, too. Her phone’s battery must’ve run completely dry.” He started backing away and gave her a smile. “Sorry about scaring you.”

Until he turned and started walking away, Abby hadn’t noticed a second man waiting at the elevator. He wasn’t a heart-stopper like the one she’d talked with. He had shifty eyes and looked ill-kempt even in his dark chauffeur’s uniform. She thought this face looked battered, too, but that could have been a trick of the lighting.

Abby couldn’t fathom why Dr. Lambert would need two drivers.

Then again, knowing Dr. Lambert, she figured he needed one for himself and another for his ego.

8:22 p.m.

The hospital complex was a sprawling campus. The concrete arteries connecting the various buildings were lighted like the Vegas strip. The rain helped to blur the lights, but it also kept the sidewalks free of other pedestrians, making Rye and Brynn that much more conspicuous. They covered a lot of ground in a short span of time, but not so much that Rye relaxed his vigil.

He kept them moving at a clip while staying on the lookout for the black Mercedes. He didn’t know positively that Goliad and Timmy were on their trail. But if they weren’t already, they or someone of their ilk in the Hunts’ employ would be soon. The first place they’d look for Brynn would be where she would have expected to find Violet.

Spotting a taxi leaving one of the main buildings, Rye said, “I’ll flag it down. Don’t dawdle.” He dropped Brynn’s hand and took off in a sprint. When she caught up to him, he was holding open the back door; they scrambled in.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Just drive,” Rye said. “She needs a minute. Got some bad news about her cousin.”

“Any particular direction?”

“Just drive.”

Grumbling, the driver sat forward and drove away. For the first half mile, Rye watched out the rear window, but didn’t detect a tail.

“Are we being followed?”

“I don’t think so. But I could be wrong.”

Brynn pushed back her hood. Passing headlights gave him fleeting glimpses of her face. He couldn’t tell if the watery streaks on her cheeks were tears, rainwater, or reflections of trickles on the windows. Regardless, her expression was telling. She was devastated.

“They knew all along that I would attempt to steal the drug for Violet,” she said. “As proved by the timing of that grotesque display. They staged it while we were making the drive back from Howardville.”

“Even before you ran out on Lambert, the Hunts had hedged their bet by getting Violet out of reach.”

“Worse, they made sure I can’t get to her. Her homecoming will be televised. Which means more media in Tennessee. Lights, cameras.” She placed her fingers against her temples and pressed hard. “I was mentally prepared to cross the line of ethics. I knew the risks and was willing to take them. But I would rather not have a spotlight on me when I did.”

“You could call Mr. and Mrs. Griffin.” Brynn had never revealed to him Violet’s surname, but there was no need for confidentiality any longer. Following the news story, everybody knew their name. The Hunts had made sure of it.

“Call, tell them that you have the GX-42,” he said. “If you got up there before eight p.m. tomorrow, they would send Elsa packing and let you carry on.”

“Would they, Rye? Now? With the spotlight shone on them? I’m not so sure. The risks would be greater for them, too.”

“What if it was your kid?”

She gave a rueful smile over his repetition of her question. “I would send Elsa packing.”

“I’m betting they would, too.”

“But even if they did, there’s a medical team on high alert. With Violet’s welfare being the senator’s ‘top priority,’ she will be closely monitored.” Looking defeated, she said, “The Hunts covered all the bases.”

“Do you think Lambert was behind it?”

She considered it, then shook her head. “If Nate had known about the televised spectacle they had planned, he would have been at the center of it. More than likely he’s irked over being excluded.” She lapsed into thought, then said, “This has her stamp on it.”

“The wife with shoes to die for?”

“She’s the senator’s mama bear. She’s also an excellent promoter. A winner.” She laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. “They fought dirty, but they won. As a physician, I can’t let this dose go to waste. I’ll deliver them the vial tonight. Humble myself and admit to a temporary loss of reason. Something. I’ll make nice. Uphold my Hippocratic oath. My conscience will be clear, and I’ll no longer be looking over my shoulder for Goliad and Timmy.”

“They’re not the only ones on your tail.”

His tone brought her eyes open. She gave him her full attention.

“I had a call from Dash.”

He related the conversation. Even knowing that her brain was sluggish with exhaustion and desolation, he didn’t spare her the details. She needed to be made aware of everything she was up against.

“He didn’t elaborate on Brady’s condition?”

“‘Heart’s gone wonky.’ That’s all Wilson could tell him.” He paused. “Did you hear the rest of it, Brynn?”

“Goliad and Timmy. Wilson and Rawlins. All after little ol’ me. I never wanted to be this popular.”

“The deputies are on the wrong track, but at least they’re doing their job. Everybody else is after the drug.” He resettled, turning toward her slightly. “Can I toss out one thought?”

“Will it be helpful?”

“It might crystalize your thinking.”

“Then, please.”

“Okay, say you deliver the drug to the Hunts. Humble yourself. Make nice. All that stuff you said. What happens after you give it to him?”

“His disease goes into remission, doesn’t recur, he’ll live a longer and healthier life.”

“But will you?”

“What?”

“Are you sure they’ll call the dogs off?”

“Once the GX-42 is in his system, what would they hold against me?”

“Betrayal. You would have given it to Violet if they hadn’t gone out of their way to prevent it. They don’t strike me as forgiving types, Brynn. And since your plan to give it to Violet was foiled, what’s to keep you from blowing the whistle on the whole thing?”

“I couldn’t do that without admitting my own culpability.”

“But Senator and Mrs. Hunt would have a whole lot farther to fall. Talk about a spotlight. You could shine it right on them, and that isn’t the glare they would want to be caught in.”

Her eyes seemed to plumb his. He held steady. This had to be her decision.

In a quiet voice, she said, “What you’re intimating is that, no matter which patient gets the drug, I face exposure, censure, possible peril.”

“Those are bigger words than I would use, but, basically, yeah.”

“So it comes down to—”

“You know what it comes down to, Brynn. You already said. Worst-case scenario? You had the means to try to save Violet and didn’t.” He touched the pocket of her coat that contained the vial. “As long as you’re in possession of the game ball, you’re winning.”

She looked at him for a few seconds longer, then said in a rushed voice, “If I could get on a flight to Knoxville tonight, I could be on the Griffins’ doorstep first thing in the morning.”

“Amidst media.”

“But the Griffins would welcome me with open arms. I’m sure of that. I could lay it all out to them. They may say no to the GX-42, but at least they’ll have been given a choice. If they agree, we’ll devise a way for me to do the infusion.”

“If they say no?”

“I’ll bring it back to Richard Hunt.”

“By eight p.m.?”

“I bet they would cancel their flight crew’s weekend off.”

He checked his watch. “With the mess the airlines are in, there probably won’t be a flight tonight.”

“I’ll rent a car.”

“Are you up to making that drive?”

“How long will it take?”

“However long, you were up all night last night and only got a short nap today.”

“One way or another, I’m going.” She leaned forward and said to the driver, “Take us to the airport, please.”

The driver grimaced into the rearview mirror. “Traffic on both interstates is going nowhere fast. If you’re trying to make a flight—”

“Do your best,” Rye said.