so quickly that the woman knocked her chair sideways. The man seized her coat and purse, and they hurried toward the entrance without looking at the bill.
“They weren’t running from the check.”
I was already moving.
The morning valet was different from the one who had worked the previous night, but Jett found him in the employee lounge.
“Did they say where they were going?”
“I’m coming with you.”
He frowned, thinking. “The man told me to bring their car fast. Then he called someone and said, ‘Call the hospital. Tell them we’re coming.'”
Jett grabbed his keys. “I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
“Laura, you don’t know who these people are.”
“That’s exactly why I have to go.”
This time, I wasn’t waiting for anyone.
For four months, I had waited—for the police to call, for strangers to recognize her photograph, for someone else to uncover the clue that
