Be on the Lookout by Tyler Anne Snell Page A

protecting her virtue, he had no idea. “She’s breathing fine and has a normal pulse, but she’s unresponsive. Less than an hour ago she got a concussion but said she knew it was fine.”
    The sound of a beep, maybe an elevator, Jonathan thought, popped in the background. Wherever Jake was, he was moving.
    â€œNo. If Kate said to call me and not an ambulance, then I can guarantee you she didn’t pass out from a concussion. Have you called or told anyone about her?” he asked.
    â€œNo,” Jonathan admitted, wondering for a second if he had made a mistake by calling Jake. “But since telling me to only call you was probably the last thing she did before she lost consciousness, I figured that was the best route to take.”
    â€œGood, that’s good.” Another faint beep traveled through the connection. “Has anyone come into contact with her in the last half hour?”
    â€œLike I said, she was in an accident where she hit her head against the road.”
    â€œNo, I mean, did anyone have physical, skin-to-skin contact with her?” Jake’s frustration put Jonathan on edge. Instead of combating the feeling and the man it came from, it made him focus on the question.
    â€œAside from me and an unconscious work associate of hers, no.” Then he remembered something. “Actually, an EMT checked her head in the back of an ambulance. Less than a half hour ago.” As he said it, Jonathan knelt back down beside Kate. He put the cell phone between his shoulder and cheek to free up his hands. Gingerly, he ran his hands over the back of her hair, trying to find the wound. He found it and the dried blood over it.
    â€œCheck the back of her neck for any raised skin or mark,” Jake rushed to say.
    â€œAlready ahead of you,” Jonathan muttered, running his fingers down from the wound to the skin of her neck. Kate’s skin was warm, wet and soft. “Wait.” Jonathan paused as his finger ran over a small bump on the back of her neck. He moved her hair out of the way and leaned closer, narrowing his eyes at the raised skin. “There’s a bump in the middle of her neck. It isn’t red or pink. I would have missed it had I not been feeling for it. There’s also a tiny hole in the middle of it.” Jonathan looked back into the bathroom. Aside from her clothes, there was nothing out of the ordinary as far as he could tell. “Did she do that to herself?”
    â€œIf she did, she’s crazier than I thought,” Jake said. “No, I think that EMT wasn’t your run-of-the-mill paramedic.”
    â€œWhat?” Jonathan felt his muscles tense again. Getting warm, ready to attack. “Why would he do that?”
    He looked down at Kate’s relaxed face.
    â€œI can only make a few guesses, and that would take up time we don’t have.” The warning behind Jake’s words amplified the urgency Jonathan had carried moments before. “Text me the hotel address and room number. I need to make some calls on the way over there.”
    Jonathan’s instinct to protect the privacy of his client flared to life.
    â€œWhat’s going on? Is she going to be okay?”
    â€œNo. Not if you play hardball with me,” he spit out. “If you make me go through the trouble of tracing this call, we’re going to lose minutes that could save her.”
    â€œListen, buddy, I don’t even know who you are,” Jonathan pointed out.
    Jake let out an aggravated sigh of frustration, barely dimmed by the sound of a car door shutting.
    â€œYou don’t know me, but Kate does,” he said. “She wanted you to call me and not the authorities because I know why she’s in New York. I can’t imagine she even told you that last part, did she?”
    â€œThe convention—” Jonathan started. The man was quick to interrupt.
    â€œIs only the tip of the iceberg.”

Chapter Twelve
    Jonathan