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She’d timed her appearance to coincide with hospital rounds so she was able to slip in and retrieve a basic first-aid kit unchallenged.
    She made a big show of looking superior when she presented the cocky agent with the kit.
    Marisela sneered and kept her arms tightly crossed. “I said I could wait.”
    “I’m a nurse. Sue me.”
    Funny, that expression. Wouldn’t work in any other country in the world except the Estados Unidos .
    Marisela glared at her, but the expression must have cost her because she winced, then snatched the kit, popped it open, and pulled out an individual dosage of antibiotic ointment.
    “Don’t you have any real sick people to harass?” she asked.
    Yizenia chuckled, her humor genuine. “I’m on my break.”
    Marisela tore the small package open, smeared the cream on her fingertip and applied it gingerly to the cut on her mouth. From experience, Yizenia knew the injury would heal quickly, but it would hurt like hell until it did.
    “Happy now?”
    “Ecstatic,” Yizenia answered, glancing at the congressman’s door.
    “Don’t let me keep you if you have work to do,” Marisela offered.
    “They’re not letting any nurses inside the room,” Yizenia replied. “Just the nursing supervisor and the chief of surgery. I’ve been told they’re in a meeting to discuss added security right now.”
    “Smart,” Marisela responded.
    Yizenia decided to push this interview a little further. How did Marisela view her client? Did she even know he was a murderer?
    “I suppose,” she said wearily. “Guy like that doesn’t deserve to live, if you ask me.”
    Marisela shot her a disgusted glare. “I didn’t ask you, but remind me never to be admitted here.”
    “Do you know who he is?” Yizenia asked, trying to sound scandalized.
    “Congressman Craig Bennett?”
    “Do you know what he did?”
    “I don’t have a head for politics,” Marisela replied. “I’m not even sure what a president does?”
    “Not his job! What he did to that girl.”
    Perhaps she’d pushed too far. Marisela’s gaze sharpened. “How do you know what he did?”
    “It was in all the papers.”
    Marisela stepped forward, leaned in close, and turned on the full force of her silent intimidation tactics, which, admittedly, were impressive. Stiff jaw. Controlled tone. Eyes that could slice you open with a glance.
    “What else do you know?”
    Yizenia pasted on a nervous look. “Just that the police think he and his friends got away with murder.”
    Marisela allowed the comment to hang in the air without responding, which impressed Yizenia. Clearly, Marisela Morales could control her emotions when the mood struck her. She’d obviously reserved judgment regarding her clients—clearly not entirely convinced they hadn’t committed a heinous crime all those years ago.
    Yes, this was promising. She didn’t need Marisela to take her side against these monstruos who killed Rebecca Manning, but an ally never hurt. Never hurt at all.

Five
    BY THE TIME Marisela slipped into her hotel at about five o’clock in the morning, the only thing on her mind was sleep. She yawned widely as she trudged through the deserted lobby toward the elevator. Her instincts had shut off hours ago, so she wasn’t surprised when Frankie slid into the lift just as the doors closed.
    “And where do you think you’re going?” she asked, her voice raspy with exhaustion as she punched the button to her floor.
    “With you,” he said, sliding his hands around her waist and tugging her tight against him “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”
    Marisela’s muscles ached, her chest hurt from her bruised ribs, and her eyes felt like she’d applied sandpaper contacts, but she mustered enough of a second wind to send him flying against the opposite wall just as the elevator doors sliced open on her floor.
    She’d caught him off guard, which wasn’t so hard to do when he was so full of his sexy self.
    “I need sleep,” she said,