‘How did you get in here?’

Harland looked displeased to see Rachel, but not surprised.

‘The advantages of having a warrant card,’ Rachel bluffed. She could feel sweat beading on her back and in her armpits, and her face growing pink. Garnering all her focus, she forced herself to stay calm. ‘The doorman let me in.’

Harland smiled sourly. ‘No he did not. Wesley would have told me about that. He saw me just now, and didn’t say a word.’

Rachel shrugged with a Whaddya know? expression. Keep your cool, she told herself, and whatever you do, don’t let her know it’s her you’re after. Make her think this is all about Kaydance.

‘So then you probably know I still have some questions about your sister. I came here to try and talk last night, but you wouldn’t answer the door.’

‘And that gives you the right to break into my home?’ Harland put down the bag of groceries she was carrying and hung up her jacket on the hall stand.

‘I explained,’ said Rachel, keeping her tone as calm as she could, ‘I’m following up an FBI investigation.’

‘Well, let’s see now.’ Harland went into the living room with her odd shuffling gait. ‘I’m sure I can find a number for the local office of the FBI. Why don’t I ask them about it?’

Rachel followed her. ‘Really, Harland, there’s no need. A couple of questions and I’ll leave you in peace, I promise. Five minutes.’

‘Well. All right then.’ Harland’s shoulder’s dropped a little, and she managed a wary smile. ‘I guess you may as well sit down. Coffee?’

Rachel held up a hand. ‘No, I’m fine, don’t worry.’

‘I’m going to make some for myself, so it’s no problem.’

As soon as Harland had gone into the kitchen, Rachel grabbed her phone and checked it. Rob hadn’t called her back. She started composing a text, but hadn’t got past ‘Code 3. You need to’, before Harland limped back with the tray. She pressed ‘Send’ anyway, and pushed her phone back into her trouser pocket with what she hoped was a casual movement.

Harland glanced in her direction, then poured coffee and offered carrot cake. Rachel refused the cake, adding as much milk as possible to her coffee to cool it down. She needed to drink it down quickly and get out of there as soon as she could, without raising Harland’s suspicions further.

‘So why did you tell me that Kaydance is in Florida when she’s here, in Baltimore?’

Harland stirred her coffee, apparently quite unconcerned at being caught out lying to a police officer. But Rachel now knew exactly what this woman was capable of. ‘She was only just out on parole; I didn’t want to see her going straight back to prison. Just being a protective older sister.’ Once again there was that chilly smile.

‘So if you knew she was here in Baltimore, you could have saved us a lot of wasted time, effort and expense. You do realise wasting police time is an offence?’

‘Guilty as charged.’ Harland remained unruffled, pointing to Rachel’s cup. ‘Coffee okay?’

‘Yes. Thanks.’ Rachel swallowed down a large gulp, eager to finish it and be gone.

‘So this investigation, this reason you needed to speak with Kaydance… is it about stuff she’s gotten into with the House of Spirits?’ Harland pursed her lips in distaste. ‘They’re a very troubled bunch of people.’

‘Yes, that is part of it,’ Rachel said vaguely, draining her coffee. ‘And of course we are looking into other people too, not just Kaydance.’ This much was true at least. An idea occurred to her. ‘Did you ever meet any of them? Ever get involved yourself?’

Harland gave a dry laugh. ‘I work at the most prestigious medical centre in the world. How do you imagine that would sit with my employers?’

‘And what is it you do there?’

‘I’m a lab tech.’ She smiled smugly and poured herself more coffee.

The damp patches of sweat on Rachel’s back had started to go from cold to hot – too hot – and her fingertips were suddenly numb. She pressed her hand to her forehead, which had started to sweat profusely. Harland was looking at her face, the unsettling green eyes fish-like behind the bottle-top lenses.

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ she asked.

‘It’s a little warm in here,’ admitted Rachel. As she inhaled, it felt as though the blood was rushing away from her head. She was dizzy. Another wave of heat swept over her. She tried to think back to what she had eaten for breakfast. She had only taken yoghurt and some fresh fruit from the motel’s continental buffet…

‘Let me cool you off a little.’ Harland limped over to the window and opened it. ‘May I fetch you some water?’

‘Thank you.’ Rachel slumped in her chair, trying to shake the sensation of travelling backwards, fast, on a funfair ride. She accepted the water and sipped it, then pressed her hand to her mouth, afraid she would vomit. If she could just get out of the apartment, get some fresh air, she would surely start to feel a little better.

‘I think I should leave.’ Rachel hauled herself out of the chair and stumbled towards the front door. Just beyond the ringing in her ears, she could hear Harland’s uneven gait, following her. She reached for the door, but bile surged into her throat, forcing her to cover her nose and mouth with a snorting sound.

‘I think you need to use the bathroom,’ Harland said in a low, firm voice. Rachel felt a hand in the small of her back, propelling her to the opposite end of the hall. The light was switched on and the door closed behind her. She knelt on the floor and vomited in the direction of the toilet bowl, splashing the floor. As the nausea briefly receded, a flash of acuity rose in her and she heaved herself up using the rim of the hand basin, closed the lid of the toilet and managed to sit down. The coffee. Harland had to have put something in the bloody coffee. With what little energy she had left, she berated herself for being so stupid.

She pulled out her phone with a shaking hand and opened the call log, looking for Rob’s name. Another wave of violent nausea surged up from her core, and her vision started to blur. She couldn’t read the names but her thumb hit the touch pad and dialled anyway. A call rang out a few times, then somebody must have answered but she couldn’t hear through the noise in her head. She tried to speak, but no sound came out, and she collapsed to the floor, her phone smashing on the tiles beside her.

The ringing in her ears reached a crescendo, then faded to silence.