Fast.
Breathing.
Shallow but steady.
He had basic emergency-response training from work.
Not enough.
He needed medical help.
But Victoria had specifically avoided the main lobby.
Gregory had threatened him with kidnapping.
Taylor suddenly understood how easily this could become something else.
He took out his phone.
Called 911.
Then stopped before pressing send.
If an ambulance arrived at the hotel, Gregory would know exactly where Victoria went.
That should not matter.
Unless Gregory had actually done something to her.
Taylor thought about the locket.
Megan.
His hands began shaking.
Victoria stirred.
“No hospital.”
Taylor looked down.
“You need one.”
“No…”
“You can barely talk.”
“Gregory…”
“What about him?”
“Board…”
Her head fell against his chest.
Taylor swore softly.
The elevator opened into the private garage.
His ten-year-old Subaru sat between a Bentley and a Mercedes that probably cost more than his townhouse.
He carried Victoria toward it.
He opened the rear door.
Then stopped.
Leaving an impaired woman lying in the back of his car felt wrong.
Dangerous.
He lowered her onto the passenger seat instead and reclined it slightly.
Her breathing remained normal.
He buckled her in.
Then called the only doctor he knew personally.
Dr. Rachel Kim had been Megan’s closest friend in college.
Rachel was now an emergency physician at a private urgent-care facility in Arlington.
She had also been one of the people who spent the first year after Megan vanished helping Taylor survive.
Rachel answered on the fourth ring.
“If this is about Sophie’s science fair, I already told you baking soda volcanoes are banned in my house.”
“Rachel.”
She stopped.
“What happened?”
“I need help.”
Thirty minutes later, Victoria Hawthorne was lying in a private examination room at a small after-hours medical clinic with Rachel checking her pupils.
Taylor stood near the door.
Still holding the locket.
Rachel had asked no questions until Victoria was stable.
That was one of the reasons Taylor trusted her.
Blood pressure.
Heart rate.
Oxygen.
Neurological response.
Then tests.
Rachel looked toward Taylor.
“She has alcohol in her system.”
Taylor waited.
“And?”
“And I suspect something else.”
His jaw tightened.
“What?”
“I’m not going to guess before results.”
“Can you tell whether she was drugged?”
Rachel looked toward Victoria.
“Possibly.”
Taylor stared at the floor.
Rachel noticed the locket.
“What’s that?”
Taylor did not answer.
She came closer.
He opened his hand.
Rachel froze.
Her face lost color.
“Where did you get this?”
“Her.”
Rachel looked toward Victoria.
Then back.
“Taylor…”
“You know the photo?”
Rachel’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
She touched the image carefully.
“That dress.”
Taylor frowned.
“What?”
“Megan wore that dress the night she disappeared.”
The room became silent.
Taylor’s legs weakened.
He sat.
Rachel took the chair across from him.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“She came to my apartment before going to some work event.”
“What work event?”
“I don’t know.”
“She said she was meeting someone important.”
Taylor looked toward the photograph.
Victoria.
The younger billionaire heiress standing beside Megan.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Rachel’s face twisted.
“I did.”
“No.”
“I told you she had a meeting.”
“You said client dinner.”