“Visiting hours are over in thirty minutes. They’ll boot me out by then. Do you have the ID card Alice swiped this morning?”

He patted his pocked. “Got it.”

“I don’t want to bail anyone out of jail tonight,” she said under her breath.

He shot her a look. “You don’t think I’m stupid enough to get caught, do you?”

“I sure the hell hope not, Harrison.”

Simone plastered on her lawyer smile as they entered the lobby and approached the front desk. “We’re here to see Gillian Rogers. I’m a friend of the family.”

A large woman with gray hair was seated behind the reception desk. “Sign in. You’ve got about twenty-five minutes before visiting hours are up.”

Simone signed the log, handed Ryan the pen, and waited.

The receptionist slanted a disapproving glance over them. “I’ll need to see ID.” She checked her computer and waited while Ryan and Kate fished out their wallets. “Mrs. Rogers is in D wing, room 438.” She tapped a pencil against a photocopied map. “Here. Take that hallway, there.” She pointed toward a set of double doors.

“Thank you,” Simone said.

“Friendly,” Ryan muttered as they pushed the doors open.

When they were alone in the hallway, she glanced at her watch. “Don’t be late.”

“Got it. Have fun.”

“Yeah. Fun.” Simone frowned. “Gillian has Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t remember me. This’ll be a hoot.”

Ryan winked, then ducked into a janitor’s closet.

Institutional cleaners assailed his nostrils. He flipped on the pocket flashlight he’d brought with him and scanned the small room. Like Gillian’s daughter Alice had told Simone, a janitor’s uniform hung on a hook against the wall. He slipped it on, clipped the ID badge with his picture taped over the top to his shirt pocket, and wheeled the cart out into the hallway.

He made his way through the building at a slow pace, whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. A nurse passed, stopped, and glanced back. “You’re new. Where’s Jimmy?”

He swiveled and flashed a smile. “Sick. I’m fillin’ in.”

“There’s a spill in 218 that needs to be cleaned up.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on it.”

“I need you on it now. Come on.” She waggled a finger at him.

Shit. He didn’t have time for this right now. But it was either follow or raise suspicion, something they definitely didn’t need.

He whipped the cart around. 218? Where the hell was that? Ryan glanced down at the building map he’d laid out below bottles on the top of the cart. Dammit. Opposite side of the building from the records room.

The nurse pushed open a door. “Mr. Anders?”

A muffled grunt was the only response.

Ryan left the cart in the hallway. His nose puckered when he stepped into the room. Mother of God, he had not signed on for this. The old man’s bladder had all but exploded right on the floor.

“We’ll get this cleaned right up for you, Mr. Anders,” the nurse said. She nodded at Ryan to get moving.

Colorful language bubbled through his head, but he made his way back to the janitor’s cart and grabbed supplies he hoped would work. Twenty minutes later, he was once again pushing the cart through the long hallways. His skin itched, and he felt the need for a shower to wash off the stench of that room. And he definitely didn’t want to get old.

A woman was keying information into a computer when he made his way to the business offices. He lifted his ID badge. “I’m here to empty the waste baskets.”

She barely glanced at him. “Fine. Don’t be long. I need to lock up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He went around the room, performing the menial task. When he finished in the outer office, he moved to the record room.

The spring-loaded door snapped closed behind him. He quickened his pace to the window and popped it open.

Annie stood from her spot below the window where she’d been hiding. “What the hell took you so long?”

“Old man’s bladder exploded on the other side of the building,” he whispered.

“What?”

“I’ll explain later. We don’t have long.” He helped her through the window. “There’s a secretary out front itching to get home.”

She went straight to the file cabinet, jerked the top drawer open and pawed through records. “There’s no Alexander.”

“Check Harrison.”

She closed the top drawer and dropped to the next one.

Ryan emptied the trash. The metal blinds clinked as he ran a broom over them to disguise the sound of the file cabinet squeaking open and closed.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

He looked back. “Mathews?”

“Here it is,” she whispered. “So much for the records being destroyed in a fire.” She pulled the file out, flipped it open, scanned each page.

Her sharp intake of breath brought his attention around. “What?”

“Jake’s signature is all over in here.” She kept flipping, her face so pale he was tempted to make her sit down. “There’s a nurse’s name on a lot of these. Janet Kelly.”

“Got it.” He moved to another cabinet and looked for personnel files. “They’re not here.”

“Another office?”

“Probably,” he said, flipping through drawers.

“What’s Midazolam?”

Ryan glanced up. “It’s a benzodiazepine.”

“What’s that?”

“A drug used as a hypnotic sedative.”

Her gaze shot to him. “Sedative? Like for a coma?”

“Maybe. If it’s combined with a paralytic agent, yeah.”

Kate swallowed and glanced back at her chart. “Like Anectine?”

Oh, shit. “Yeah.”

“What about Tabofren?”

Ryan’s hand stopped moving through files. “Say that again.”

“Tabofren. It’s all over in my chart.”

“It’s a cancer drug.”

Annie looked up sharply. “I didn’t have cancer, did I?”

He shook his head, but worry rippled through his chest.

A hand pounded on the door. “Hey, are you done in there? I have to lock up.”

“Shit.” Annie ducked behind the desk.

Ryan pulled the door open. His adrenaline pumped, but he forced a smile. “Sure thing. Just gotta get new bags.” Whistling, he made his way back to the cart, found what he needed, and came back. With a frown, Annie waved him out from her space behind the desk.

He took his time, made sure the window was closed, then eased out of the room.

The secretary checked her watch. “Took you long enough.” She flipped off the light and ushered him out of the main office, then locked the door.

“Night,” he drawled.

She didn’t answer, just headed down the long hallway, the clicking of her heels the only sound echoing in the empty space.

Ryan pushed the cart into the nearest janitor’s closet and carefully made his way back to the business office. He knocked, glanced around, and waited. The door opened a crack, and he pushed his way through then locked it behind him.

Annie’s green eyes sparkled in the darkness. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

“This wasn’t my idea. Check that office. I’ll take this one.” They split up, each searching file cabinets and desk drawers. When Annie whispered from a nearby room, he closed the drawer he’d been searching and followed the sound of her voice.

“I found it,” she said. “Janet Kelly was let go almost a year ago. 794 Harbor Drive.”

“That’s on the waterfront.”

“I can’t find anything on Jake.”

Keys jangled in the outer office.

“Shit.” Ryan pushed her toward the window. “Go.” She yanked it open and slithered through. Ryan followed and did his best to pull the window closed behind them, then crouched down next to Annie in the bushes.

Light darted through the window, sweeping over the bushes. Ryan held his breath. When a giggle slipped from Annie’s lips, he slapped a hand over her mouth.

No sound echoed from inside the room, but the flashlight beam stayed on. After what seemed like an infinite amount of time, the light flipped off. Feet shuffled, a door opened and closed. Then silence stretched out behind them.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” Ryan whispered.

Annie pulled his fingers away from her mouth. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

“I can see the headlines in tomorrow’s paper. Pharmaceutical CEO arrested for breaking into Backwater Nursing Home.”

Annie giggled again. “Afraid you’ll tarnish your pretty-boy image?”

“It’s already been tarnished. And no. I’m afraid of going to jail and getting a cellmate named Bubba.” When she laughed, his heart bumped. “And I don’t want our kids left in Mitch’s incapable hands. Julia already has a smart mouth.”

“And she definitely doesn’t get the swearing from you, right?” Her eyes danced, and the dimple in her cheek shot his pulse up.

“Absolutely not.

She grinned. God, he’d missed that smile. The way her whole face lit up, the way it made her green eyes sparkle. The way it sent heat careening to his belly. He ached to kiss her. Ached to touch her. Ached to finish what they’d started earlier.

As soon as they got back and sorted through everything they’d just found, he planned to do exactly that.

He grasped her hand. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

* * *

Light from the dashboard illuminated Simone’s face in the front passenger seat of Mitch’s SUV. She and Mitch were arguing about which turn would take them back to the freeway. They sounded like an old married couple.

Kate glanced at Ryan seated next to her in the back. He’d ditched the janitor’s uniform in the bushes outside the nursing home before they’d left. At the moment, he was studying her chart intently. Deep worry lines creased his forehead.