Theo wasn't about to get involved in a shouting match. Forcing himself to speak in a level voice, he asked, "How many times do

I have to say it before you understand? You're not stopping me."

"The hell I'm-"

He cut her off. "I can stop you, though, and we both know it. One phone call. That's all it would take."

He wasn't bluffing. When it came to push and shove, he had the muscle. She didn't. Simple as that.

Harris decided on a more prudent approach. "Okay, we'll share information. I'll send you copies of what I've got on Monk as

soon as I get back to the station. And I'll let you see what's inside the package."

"Assuming we can find it," Michelle interjected.

"We have to find it," she snapped.

"Now, I want something," Harris said.

"What?"

"I want forty-eight hours before you start interfering or call in your troops. I guarantee I'll have Monk behind bars before then.

If he's working with the men who came after you and the doctor, I'll get them too."

"You're pretty sure of yourself. What aren't you telling me, Detective? Do you know where Monk is now?"

"Forty-eight hours," she insisted.

He didn't waste any time thinking about it. "No."

"Twenty-four hours, then," she demanded. "That's reasonable."

Her neck was getting red from anger, but Theo didn't give a damn if he was making her life difficult or not.

"No."

"What the hell do you want? Give me something. My men are closing the net now, and we've all worked too damn long to let

you take over. Let us get him. Three long years-"

"Yeah, I know. Three years," he said. "Okay. I'll give you twelve hours, but not one minute more. If you haven't made any

arrests by then, I'm acting.''

She checked her watch. "It's almost nine o'clock now. Twelve hours… yeah, I can live with that. You take the doctor home

and stay there with her until nine tonight." Turning to Michelle, she said, "Let's get moving. Where do we start looking for that package?"

Michelle saw Frances motioning to her. She was holding the phone up. "It's either down here somewhere or upstairs on the surgical wing. Will you excuse me? I've got a phone call." She didn't wait for permission. As she hurried to the counter, she

called out, "Megan, why don't you and Detective Harris go on up to the surgical floor and start looking. I'll be up in a minute to help. Frances, you can go ahead and bandage Mr. Buchanan and give him a tetanus shot."

She picked up the phone and moved back to get out of Megan's path.

"This way, Detective," Megan said, leading her toward the elevator.

Michelle wasn't on the phone long. She came back to Theo and said, "Dr. Landusky found out I was in the hospital and asked me to check a patient for him. Has the numbing worn off? I could give you something if you're hurting." "I'm okay."

"See to that paperwork, Doctor," Frances said before she left them alone.

Theo was watching the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, he picked up the phone and asked Michelle to give him Mary

Ann's home phone number.

She rattled off the number. "Why do you want to talk to Mary Ann?"

"I don't."

Michelle's friend answered on the third ring. She sounded sleepy. Theo didn't waste time chatting. "Let me talk to Noah."

Michelle's mouth dropped open. "He went back to New Orleans with Mary Ann?"

She had her answer a second later when Theo said, "Get out of her bed and go in the other room so we can talk."

Noah yawned loudly into the phone. "This better be good."

"It is," he promised.

"Yeah, all right. Hold on a minute."

Michelle heard her name being paged and went back to the counter to pick up the phone. A nurse wanted her to check a chart before she gave the patient medication. Michelle hung up just as Theo was ending his conversation.

She heard him say, "After you check it out, get back here. Thanks, Noah."

The second he hung up the phone, Michelle asked, "What are you doing? I heard you promise the detective you would give her twelve hours and not do anything until then."

"Uh-huh."

"You did say twelve hours?"

"Yes, I did," he agreed. "So you know what that must mean."

"What?"

"I lied."

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

They were searching the wrong cubicle. Michelle went past her desk and found Detective Harris and Megan sorting through Dr. Landusky's things.

"Have you already searched my cubicle?" she asked

Megan.

"I thought this was where you worked," Megan said. She was sitting on the floor next to the desk, going through folders.

"Mine's next door."

"Gee, I'm sorry, Dr. Mike. All this time, since I started working here, I thought you were a slob because I thought this was your workspace. Every time I came up here, you were sitting at this desk dictating or writing in one of the charts."

"I used Dr. Landusky's cubicle because that's where the nurses and the staff secretaries put his charts, and I covered his practice while he was on vacation."

"But, I've been dropping your stuff off here."

"We'd better keep going, then," Harris said. "Maybe it was dropped here by mistake."

Since Detective Harris was searching the desk, Michelle got down on her knees and began to go through the pile against the wall. "I don't know how Landusky can work like this."

"He's always behind on his charts," Megan volunteered.

"Will you concentrate on the task at hand?" Harris demanded. She sounded like a schoolteacher reprimanding two errant students.

"I can talk and look at the same time," Megan assured her.

"Keep looking," Harris urged.

"Could this be it?" Megan asked a few seconds later. She handed a small yellow envelope to Michelle.

"No," Michelle answered. "It has to have the Speedy Messenger Service label on it."

"What about this one?" Megan asked.

Once again, she passed a package to Michelle. Harris glanced over her shoulder and waited for Michelle to answer.

The package was a legal-sized, padded manila envelope. Michelle read the name of a law firm in the upper corner just above the label and caught her breath.

"I think this could be it," she said as she handed the envelope to the detective.

Harris acted as though she'd just been given an explosive. She gingerly tested the weight, then slowly turned the package over. The detective took time and care pulling the tab across the top. There was another manila envelope inside. Harris sliced it open with a letter opener.

Holding the envelope by one edge, she looked around the desk. "This will work," she said as she picked up a large binder clip from one of the shelves. "I don't want to touch the papers inside and mess up any prints."

"I could get you some gloves," Megan offered.

Harris smiled. "Thanks, but this should work."

Michelle leaned back against the wall, a pile of folders in her lap. She watched as the detective used the clip to clasp the corner of one of the sheets and lift it halfway out.

Megan knocked over a stack of newspapers and charts when she got up on her knees. Michelle helped her restack the pile in the corner.

"What does it say?" Michelle asked the detective.

Harris looked disappointed. "It's some kind of an audit or a financial statement. No names on this page, just initials next to what I think are transactions. Lots and lots of numbers," she added.

"What about the other papers?"

"Looks like there's around twelve pages, maybe more, but some of them are stapled together behind this sheet," she said. Shaking her head, she added, "Too risky to try to pull out."

She was slowly pushing the paper back into the envelope. "I've got to rush this to the lab. Once they've gone over the pages, then I'll get someone to help me figure out what all these numbers mean."