At his nod of assent, she began to pencil his name into the book when the phone rang. Distractedly, she reached for it. “Pia Torres.”

“Pia? Tory King.”

“Tory? What’s up?”

“I have a strange request.”

“Go ahead. What do you need?” Pia held up a hand signaling five minutes to the boy, who nodded and leaned back as if he were about to take a nap.

“KT O’Bannon is renting a place from your mother, right?” At the mention of KT’s name, Pia stiffened. She’d gone to bed the night before and awakened that morning with a lingering image of KT and the strange woman arm in arm. There was no earthly reason why the sight of KT with any woman should have bothered her, because well, because, there was nothing between the surgeon and herself to have warranted her being upset. And KT with a woman shouldn’t have been a surprise. Pia had heard the same rumors that most of the town had heard namely, that KT was a high-profile Boston surgeon known to be friendly with the ladies, with the emphasis on ladies plural. She also happened to know, though it wasn’t common knowledge, that KT had once been Tory’s lover. “Pia?”

When she realized that Tory was still waiting for an answer, Pia quickly said, “Yes. The condo unit in the rear.”

“Would you mind very much checking to see if she’s there?” Tory gave a self-conscious-sounding laugh. “I’m probably overreacting, but she was due at the clinic an hour ago, and she hasn’t shown up or called. She doesn’t answer her cell phone, and I don’t know of any other way to reach her. I suppose she might have left a message with our answering service that I never received, because messages have been known to slip through the cracks, but I just want to make sure there’s not a problem. If there’s one thing I know about KT, it’s that she’s never late.”

“I don’t mind checking, but she probably just overslept” And considering the way she arrived home, completely wrapped around that woman, there’s probably a good reason for it.

“That’s great. Thanks. I’m sorry to bother you with this.”

“It’s no bother. It’s right next door, and I was just ending a session. Really, it’s no trouble.”

“If she’s there, have her call me. Thanks again.”

“Will do. Bye, Tory.” Pia replaced the receiver and crossed the room to the town’s star quarterback. She removed the ice, gently ranged his knee, and mentally approved of the absence of swelling or tenderness. “You’re finished for the day, Rocko. Do we have a deal about you taking care of your knee before and after the game?”

Wordlessly, he nodded.

“All right, then. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

After bidding the boy goodbye, Pia climbed the stairs to the rear deck of the main building and knocked on the screen door to KT’s condo. When she got no answer, she opened the screen and knocked harder on the inside door. She was about to turn away when Tory’s remark about KT never being late for anything repeated itself in her mind. Feeling foolish, and slightly intrusive, she cupped her hands around her face and pressed against the glass window. There was a light on in the kitchen, a set of keys on the breakfast bar that she recognized as the ones she had given KT for the condo, and a single shoe lying on the tile floor, abandoned. The rest of the kitchen appeared neat and tidy, as if nothing had been cooked or eaten in it since KT moved in. Typical bachelor fiat.

“If her keys are inside, then she must be, too,” Pia muttered, wondering what to do next. From everything she’d gleaned of KT as a surgeon, it seemed completely out of character for KT not to have gone to work for any reason even a particularly hot liaison with a woman. And certainly not without having called the clinic to let someone know. Still, she hesitated, loath to walk in on KT in the midst of a tryst. You don’t really know that she ‘d call in. She could be too involved. She could be in there right now romping with some woman and just not answering the phone.

Still, Tory King was not a woman to jump to conclusions or to be overly dramatic. Tory had asked her to check on KT, and that was reason enough to be concerned. Pia twisted the doorknob. It turned easily and the door opened. She took one step inside and called, “KT? It’s Pia. Sorry to bother you.”

Her voice echoed oddly in the apartment; were it not for the keys on the counter, she would have thought the condo empty. Her sense of disquiet increased, and she moved further into the kitchen, listening carefully for any voices or sound of movement. “KT?”

She was familiar with the layout of the apartment and started down the hall toward the master bedroom at the far end. It was then that she heard a soft moan. Oh God, she really is with someone. How humiliating.

About to beat a hasty retreat, she heard the unmistakable sound of retching and then a groan. In less than a minute she passed through the empty bedroom to the bathroom. KT, shoeless and in a rumpled, half-opened shirt and wrinkled trousers, was on her knees, arms braced on the toilet, gasping for breath.

“Oh my God,” Pia murmured, bending down to brush the sweat-drenched hair from KT’s face. “What’s wrong?”

KT turned her head, her eyes glazed. “Pia? Hell. What are you doing here?”

“Tory called.” Pia stood and ran cold water on a washcloth, then wiped KT’s face with it. “You’re supposed to be at work,”

“Fuck,” KT whispered weakly. “What time is it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Pia said, taking in KT’s ashen pallor, the sunken appearance of her eyes, and her trembling hands. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Need to.” KT attempted to push herself upright and failed, sinking down again with her back against the commode. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, both hands lying limply in her lap.

Pia noted absently that KT had kept her splint on. As she turned back to the sink to rinse out the washcloth, she saw for the first time the open container of prescription medication sitting on the counter. The empty container. Her heart sank and her stomach seized. She picked it up and read the label. Oxycontin. Oh God.

“How many?” Pia was astounded at how calm her voice sounded when inside, she was screaming. “How many did you take?”

“What?” KT opened her eyes and struggled to make sense of the question. When she saw the pill bottle that Pia held in her hand, she wanted to laugh, but she was too close to vomiting again. “None of them.”

“The bottle’s empty, honey,” Pia said gently, squatting down beside KT. She picked up KT’s right wrist and felt for a pulse. It was rapid but strong. KT’s skin, however, was clammy and damp.

“Maybe you don’t remember taking them. Try to think. We have to know how many you took.”

KT shook her head, which immediately caused her to retch again. She turned her head and vomited what little remained in her stomach. When she caught her breath, she said hoarsely, “Threw them out. Down the toilet.”

It took a moment for Pia to compute the significance of that statement, but then suddenly the scene in the bathroom made horrifying sense. What she had at first taken to be the aftereffects of too much alcohol mixed with pills wasn’t the case at all. KT was demonstrating all the signs of narcotic withdrawal dilated pupils, increased respiratory rate, vomiting, sweating. “How are the muscle cramps?”

“Tolerable,” KT mumbled.

“We should get you to the hospital.”

KT’s head snapped up, and her eyes suddenly focused. Her voice was surprisingly strong. “No. I’ll be all right in a few hours.”

“You won’t be all right by then, and you know it.” Despite her words, Pia’s tone was tender. She used the washcloth again to wipe KT’s face and neck. “Let me get you into the shower and then to bed. We’ll talk after that.”

“Go away. I don’t want you here.”

“I know.” Pia eased her arm around KT’s shoulders and gently guided her to her feet, switching her grip to encircle KT’s waist once she was standing. “But you can’t do this by yourself.”

“There’s nothing to do. It’s not that bad.” Despite her best efforts, KT shivered violently, and her teeth chattered. “I’ll just sleep it off.”

“Shower first. Let’s warm you up.”

KT leaned her back against the wall and held her good arm out straight, keeping Pia at a distance. “I don’t want you to take care of me. I want you to go.” She took a breath, her eyes pleading, “Pia, please,”

“All right,” Pia said quietly. “I’ll call Tory.”

“Oh, Jesus,” KT moaned. “That’s all I need.” She struggled not to shake, but a surge of nausea and dizziness swept over her. She figured she had about thirty seconds before she fainted.

Surrendering, she turned her hand palm up. “Help me get to the bed.”

“I’m so cold.”

“Here, honey,” a soft voice said. “Let me hold you.”

KT turned her face to the comforting warmth of the woman beside her and wrapped her arm around Pia’s solid strength as if she were a life preserver in the raging sea. Still shivering, her stomach rolling, KT moaned quietly. A hand brushed over her hair and massaged the muscles in the back of her neck.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Pia murmured.

Fully dressed, Pia sat half upright with her back braced against the headboard and KT against her side. She drew the other woman closer, encircling her shoulder with one arm as she pulled the blanket higher over them with her other hand. KT’s cheek rested against her shoulder. After she’d gotten KT to bed, she’d called the clinic with the excuse that KT had a stomach bug and wouldn’t be in for at least a day. She hadn’t intended to do any more than stay until KT was settled, but after an hour of seeing the semiconscious woman toss and turn and shiver and shake, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She’d climbed onto the bed to hold the struggling woman, and the instant she had, KT had quieted. Fortunately, she had no other appointments herself until the next afternoon.