It’s better this way. It was only a matter of time before he left me to findthe onefor him.
And, no. I don’t want to think about why that thought stings worse than anything else in my life.
I pull into the Washington D.C. hospital, where an ambulance brought Thalia Anders earlier today. It takes thirty minutes to get in and find Thalia’s room because of the security hold they put on her information.
How I got through is anybody’s guess.
“Knock, knock!” I enter Thalia’s room. My friend looks paler than usual. An oxygen tube snakes across her face, with two lines stuck into her nose.
She blinks a few times then tries to lift her hand in greeting. “Hey.”
Her voice is weak, and it strikes fear in my heart. The hospital called to tell me about her being admitted, but they wouldn’t tell me anything else.
“What’s going on? You need a vacation from dealing with my crazy ass?” I try to joke with her. “I heard Tahiti has better room service. And cabana boys.”
The corner of her mouth lifts, she sucks in a breath. “I wish.”
I pull up a chair to her bedside. “Talk to me. What happened?”
She tries to shake her head but winces instead. “They told me I had anaphylaxis reaction to nuts.”
I suck in a breath. “You got a death wish? You’re allergic.”
“Tell me about it,” Thalia waves down her body. “It’s not like I went to the ice cream store to get a pistachio gelato with a side of nuts, covered with nut syrup. I went for my usual vanilla milkshake.”
“Was there a mix-up?”
“Don’t know,” Thalia coughs. “I ordered my milkshake from the same crabby teenager I get my milkshake every Sunday. I went to walk back home to my condo, and suddenly I felt this sense of doom like the world was about to end. Then my throat closed up. I couldn’t breathe.”
My heart races, thinking of Thalia on her own. “Someone must have helped you. Did you have your Epi-pen with you?”
“Doc says it was expired. Thankfully, someone in the crowd had another one. They shot me up and called 911.”
“Your emergency meds were expired? That doesn’t seem like you either.”
Her eyes meet mine. “That’s because it’s not.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly what I was thinking when my mind cleared,” she pulls a deep breath through her nose.
I watch the bags of medicine drip into her arm. A machine buzzes, and the blood pressure cuff on her arm fills and takes a reading.
“Why did the hospital call me?”
“I don’t know whom I can trust,” Thalia frowns as she tries to put her bed in an upright position. “I trust you. Made them call you.”
“I know you’re right about a mole,” I tell her. “We had more than one.”
“Fuck.”
“I know.”
“Who?”
“Sheila accidentally gave the new boyfriend information that got her killed,” I blink back the tears that threaten to fall. “And I had the chance to chat with Dakota Helfinger this morning. He claims there’s a hacker helping.”
“Any idea who?”
