Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            He got out of the Lexus on legs that felt like Jell-O. Holding on to the car for support, he opened the trunk, found two matching license plates, and switched them with the set of fakes he’d made that morning.

            Then he headed back for the Smythe house, exhausted and in pain. His head hurt, his arm hurt. His body ached.

            He needed a safe place to hide, a place where neither the cops nor Kowalski could find him.

            Kowalski. He wanted to groan. Now he was fighting a war on two fronts. He didn’t expect to turn the cops to his way of thinking. But Kowalski he might be able to manage.

            He considered his father again. Waylon had been afraid of what would happen if Pastor and McPhearson spilled all they knew.

            Kowalski had a family. He could be vulnerable if DJ spilled all that he knew. If he couldn’t be persuaded to help DJ, he might be convinced to call off his thugs.

            It would be good not to have to look over his shoulder. So that was the plan. Get Kowalski to back off while he looked for another place to live.

            He thought about staying with Pastor and Coleen in the rehab center. But Pastor kept whining for him to leave Sacramento and return to Eden, so the rehab center wasn’t a good idea.

            He’d have to keep looking for a place, because Mrs. Smythe would be home soon. He’d kill her if he had to—the chest freezer could hold one more—but he ran the risk that her daughter would call to confirm that she’d made it home all right.

            So his priorities were building a file on Kowalski, locating a new house, and finding Mercy. He still felt shitty and stupid, but a little more in control now that he had a plan. That would have to be enough.




SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

            FRIDAY, MAY 26, 12:30 P.M.

            Portia Sinclair folded her hands atop Liza’s résumé. “So do you have any questions for me?”

            The interview at Sunnyside Oaks had gone well and Liza was cautiously optimistic.

            “Yes, ma’am.” She hadn’t mentioned that she was only applying for a short-term gig. She hoped that she’d be able to get whatever Tom needed long before she started school. “What will my responsibilities be and for how many patients will I be providing care? On average, of course. I’m aware that your needs will vary from day to day.”

            “You’ll be assigned one or two patients during the day, five at night. Sometimes you’ll go as high as three during the day and seven at night, but that is our ratio cap. Will that be a problem?”

            Liza blinked. “No, ma’am. My ratios were one to five during the day and one to ten at night. So, no, this won’t be a problem at all.”

            “Well, you were working in the veterans’ home,” Sinclair said, not bothering to mask her disdain. “This is a private facility and we have higher standards.”

            Well, bully for you, Liza thought, but kept her smile firmly in place. “That’s wonderful. What is the range of patient conditions?”

            “Anything from a short-term surgical recovery to long-term rehabilitation after a stroke. Patients vary in age from pediatric to geriatric. We really cover the spectrum.”

            Including killers. Because Pastor was here somewhere. “I can handle that.”

            “I’m sure that you can. You’ll have to sign an NDA. Many of our patients are public figures and won’t look as polished as they do in their outside life. You will not take photographs. You will not carry your phone with you while you are on shift. We provide a locker for your things.”

            Which would probably be searched. “Those are standard policies. Not a problem.”

            “Good.” She tilted her head. “How did you learn about us?”

            “I found you online. I was looking for a position as a nursing assistant and applied for about a dozen positions. You’re the first to call me in for an interview. As I said on the phone this morning, I was surprised you called me so quickly.”

            “You don’t know any former patients or other employees of our facility?”

            “No, ma’am. I’m relatively new to Sacramento. I don’t know many people yet. It’s been a little difficult to reintegrate with civilians after my discharge.”