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."Lucy's smile strained her facial muscles as she forced herself not to take out her frustration on the clerk.The ice picks and sledgehammers played chopsticks on the nerves around her face, pain shooting through her jaw and down her neck.She leaned against the counter, fingers shoved in both ears, trying to relieve the pressure.Glanced back up at the bright yellow smiley faces and reminded herself that her daughter was the one shrieking with delight in the room across the hall, not lying in an ICU.The thought didn't help, because suddenly she was filled with a vision of Megan in the ICU, fighting for her life, sallow and wasted, her hair gone, her eyes sagging shut as she struggled for every breath.The vision wasn't conjured from imagination.It was exactly how her father had appeared when he died.Panic seized her heart, holding her breath hostage, as fear gagged her.She stumbled down the hall to the public restroom, nausea blurring her vision, falling to the floor in front of the toilet, cradling her head between her knees.With the door shut, it was dark except for a nightlight illuminating a nurse's call button.Acrid hospital smells assaulted her: bleach and tile cleaner and soap and fake vanilla deodorizer.But they couldn't mask the odor of tobacco smoke—someone had obviously snuck in here for a cigarette.The stench was the final straw.Cigarette smoke had made Lucy violently ill ever since she was a child and realized what she had done to her father.All those secret missions to the market, buying him and his fellow patients cigarettes, never realizing that a man missing most of his right lung and all of his left one due to lung cancer was using his addiction and his daughter to hasten his death sentence.Overwhelmed by her fear and the memories and the smells, Lucy leaned forward and vomited.When she was done, her body shook uncontrollably as she curled up on the cool tile floor, not caring what kind of microbes might have taken up residence there.She remembered her father laughing as the other two men in his hospital room blew smoke rings through their tracheotomies.She'd been fascinated by them and their mechanical voice boxes, they sounded like the Wizard of Oz.Her father had sent her out for his special "treats" everyday—right up to the very last day when he had collapsed while they had been watching Gilligan's Island.One minute he'd been laughing at Mr.and Mrs.Howell and the next he'd been coughing up bright red blood all over her and the starched white sheets.She'd been so scared, so very scared.She helped him lie back, not realizing that in his weakened state that position left him drowning in his own blood and fluids, while she'd run to get help.The nurses raced back with her, only to find her father lying perfectly still, eyes slitted half shut, arms stretched out as if reaching for her.Dead.One minute laughing, the next dead.Chapter 23Sunday, 9:51 amBurroughs found himself humming as he waited in the lobby of the federal building.Someone, hopefully Guardino, was on their way down to escort him.Visitor pass and fellow law enforcement officer or not, the government didn't let just anyone wander alone through their sacred hallways.He snuck a still warm Krispy Kreme from the box he'd picked up on the way over.Usually after a night with Cindy he'd be beat, spend the next day recuperating.Not today.Today he was jazzed, bouncing on his feet, couldn't wait to get a jump on the Ashley Yeager case.Was it the case or Guardino? He had his answer when the elevator doors slid open and found Walden waiting for him.Well shit.He slumped against the elevator wall, barely nodding a greeting to the Special Agent."Brought you guys some donuts," he said as if Walden couldn't detect that from the green and white box he carried or the tantalizing odor emanating from it.Walden merely arched an eyebrow and made a "hmpf" type of noise."Lucy isn't here.""Did I ask?" Burroughs straightened, not liking the proprietary tone in the other man's voice.He and Walden were the same height, but he had a good ten pounds and five-six years on Walden.He could definitely take him.Walden didn't seem to agree.He squared off, staring Burroughs in the eye."You didn't have to.That's the point.""Come on.Don't try to pretend like you never thought of it yourself.Working all day with perverts, being forced to watch all that porn—I'll bet she keeps you up at night."Walden stood motionless except for the veins bulging at his neck."I'd highly suggest that you keep your eyes, your hands, and your imagination focused elsewhere.""Hey, I don't need this shit.You all invited me here to help out, remember?"The doors slid open before Walden could reply.The agent stalked away, opening the first of the locked doors, forcing Burroughs to put an extra bounce in his step in order to catch up before it slammed in his face.Jeezit, you'd think he was one of the bad guys or something.Oh well, more donuts for him.Burroughs made himself at home at an empty workspace.Most of the techies looked like they'd spent the night, slept in their clothes if they'd gotten any sleep at all.Taylor, the ADD poster boy, was hyped about something, bouncing back and forth between two workstations.Walden took his seat and began working the phones.Burroughs grabbed his own phone and checked in with the Zone Five guys to see if there'd been any sign of the elusive Mr.Tardiff.No joy.He began following up on calls that had been tagged by the folks manning the hotline.One woman in Murrysville reported seeing a girl wearing a blonde wig and fishnet stockings driving in a white Escalade with a "big, fat, black man" adding that they were "obviously up to no good" and that the girl had given her the finger.Another reported seeing suspicious lights dancing in her back yard—she lived a block away from the Yeagers, so Plum had sent a car over, but found nothing.Those were the most promising of the bunch.He sighed and reached for another donut
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