He shook his head. “Not one of the doctors. Maybe I saw blond hair. Out of the corner of my eye, you know? But when I looked, nothing was there.”
This was it. Killian knew it. “Where?”
“Where what?”
Killian wanted to lunge over the desk, but he gritted his teeth and contained his impatience. Barely. How had this man gotten a job?
Portia took over the questioning. “The blond hair. Where did you see it?”
If Dizzie were the one asking questions, she’d be tapping her nails in impatience.
“I didn’t see anything. Probably.”
Killian cringed. This was painful.
“I know you didn’t. But if you had, where was it?” Portia’s tone was pure Ice Queen.
“Oh. Over there.” He pointed down the hall.
Killian took off in the direction the nurse pointed, not caring if Portia followed or not. He opened doors down the hallway and hissed her name. “Dizzie!”
He heard footsteps behind him. Portia. Maybe the nurse.
“Dammit, Killian!”
Killian didn’t stop. He had to find her, even though he had no fucking clue what he was looking for. She wouldn’t have left a note.
The other two caught up to him after he’d opened a few doors.
Killian continued to ignore them.
Portia continued past Killian, tracker in her hand. She stopped two doors down.
The nurse stepped in front of him, blocking access to the next room. He was panting and his words came out in little puffs. “You can’t go around opening all the doors you want! There are privacy laws and stuff.”
Killian snorted. There may have been privacy laws on the books, but the only ones the corporations enforced were the ones they wanted to. He was pretty sure Tremaine Corporation wouldn’t give a damn.
“You wanna enforce the privacy laws?” Killian turned to Portia, but she was slipping into another room. He barreled after her.
Although Killian wouldn’t have believed it possible, this room was even quieter than the main floor. An air of melancholy hovered inside. The room’s lone occupant lay in the middle of a hospital bed, body covered by a sheet.
Killian didn’t know what he’d expected—to see Dizzie laying on the bed, maybe—but there was no sign of her. Disappointment and relief hit him in equal parts.
“She’s here.” Portia stood in the middle of the room, sweeping the tracker around.
He stepped close enough to see the screen. Sure enough, a large green dot pulsed on it. Killian gestured to the bed. “That’s not Dizzie.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Portia snapped. “But the tracker says she’s here.”
The nurse shuffled into the room, his steps the only sounds besides the slow beep of the monitor.
Killian studied the machines hooked up to the patient, their slow and steady beeps adding to the desolate air of the room. At least when Dizzie had been hooked up to monitors like this, the sounds had changed with her reactions. He peered closer to the screen, suddenly curious about the patient they were disturbing. “Sorry to disturb you, Hope,” he whispered to the slim, still figure.
“Look under the bed,” Portia ordered.
“Portia, leave the poor man alone.”
She ignored him and repeated her order to the nurse.
