People around her began to give her funny looks.
Am I having a panic attack? Ella wondered. She’d never had one before, but there was a first time for everything.
‘What did you see?’ Gabriel asked patiently.
‘Not what,’ she wheezed. ‘Who. Cameron McKinley. He was right there, at the clinic! Not six feet in front of me.’
Then she said something Gabriel had never heard her say before.
‘I’m scared.’
His own heart raced. You should be.
‘Don’t be.’
‘What if Mak knows I’m here? What if Cameron followed me to London? To the clinic? Mak wants me dead.’
‘More likely he followed Athena,’ Gabriel said, projecting a confidence he didn’t feel. ‘But we need to take extra precautions, either way. I’ll be in London by tomorrow morning. But for now, don’t go back to Pimlico. Check into another hotel, somewhere small and nondescript. And wait for me to call.’
For once, Ella was compliant, agreeing to follow his instructions without a word of protest.
She really is scared, Gabriel thought.
In that moment, so was he.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘Good morning. Checking in?’
The receptionist smiled brightly at the male nurse and his charge, a slight woman in a wheelchair with a heavily bandaged face.
‘Yes.’ The nurse, a stocky Filipino man in his late twenties, was wearing green scrubs and a gold necklace with the word ‘Jesus’ spelled out in elaborate cursive script. ‘This is Mrs Hambrecht. She’s scheduled for a procedure with Dr Hansen-Gerard at nine.’
‘Lovely,’ said the receptionist. ‘One of our admissions team will show you both up to your room shortly. If you’d like to take a seat.’
Makis Alexiadis paced anxiously in his bedroom at Villa Mirage, his cell phone in his hand. Since returning from his yacht, Makis been sleeping poorly, wracked by dreams about ‘Persephone’ and Athena Petridis, the two women that some vengeful God had seen fit to send up from Hades to torment him. In some of the dreams, the two of them had teamed up, laughing at him together as he tried in vain to pursue them. Usually in these ‘chase’ dreams, Makis found his legs became mired in treacle so he would run and run and get nowhere, driven on by rage and frustration. He would wake from these nightmares dripping in sweat, and with his heart pounding impotently to a wild beat that made further sleep impossible.
It was still only seven in the morning, but he’d already been awake for hours, waiting restlessly for Cameron’s call. When at last it came, he was so amped up he was practically vibrating.
‘Is your man in there yet?’ he demanded.
‘He is.’ The fixer’s voice was as relaxed and even as ever, his soft, Scots brogue in sharp contrast to Makis’s agitated Greek growl. ‘He had no problems as the substitute agency nurse. He’s been in the building since the shift started at five a.m.’
‘And you’re in contact?’
‘Yes. His earpiece is working beautifully. Mrs H has checked in and is on her way up to her room. Once the operation’s over, he’ll wheel her out of the recovery room while she’s still sedated, and take the service elevator down to the goods entrance. I’ll be waiting there with the van. Try to relax, Mak. There’s nothing to worry about.’
Nothing to worry about! If he weren’t as tense as a taut rubber band, Makis might have laughed. With Athena Petridis there was always something to worry about. Always.
Would he finally be rid of her today? He hardly dared believe it.
He mustn’t believe it. Not until it was done.
The receptionist stole a glance at Samantha Yorke, who was flipping nervously through an old copy of Vogue magazine.
Poor thing. It was obvious Samantha didn’t really want to be here. Apprehension was written all over her beautiful face. Patients like Samantha made the receptionist feel guilty that she worked here. That she was part of an industry where rich successful male surgeons who should know better, like Dr H-G, preyed on the insecurities of beautiful young women who no more needed surgery than they needed to fly to the moon.
Get out of here! she longed to tell Samantha. Run, while you still can.