When his cell phone rang, awareness jolted Grayson awake. Early morning light filtered through the bedroom window as he sat up abruptly, shoving off the bedcovers. He picked up his ringing phone from the nightstand, and his stomach clenched at the name on the caller ID.

“Aunt Mary?” He croaked out her name, willing his racing heart to slow down. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s your mother, Gray.” His aunt’s voice sounded worried, which didn’t help his heart rate. “She’s in the ER at Regional.”

“What happened?”

“She fell on her way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. The hospital called me when the ambulance brought her in.”

Grayson pulled in a ragged breath. Even though his mother had been feeling lousy for months, the leukemia diagnosis had only come recently. He was still trying to wrap his head around it. “Did she break anything?”

“No, just lots of bruising, which Eleanor’s getting used to, but she has a fever of 103 and her red-blood-cell count is really low.” Mary’s voice tightened as she continued. “Lower than last week, so they’re running more tests. Hopefully, they’ll be able to get her fever down so they won’t have to admit her. I’ll be on the next flight and should be in Scranton by this afternoon. When do you think you can leave?”

“I’m not sure.”

The silence that hung over the line was a silent rebuke, one he was well used to from her. Still holding the phone to his ear, he dropped his head into his other hand.

“It’s what, Thursday, right?” he said, trying to gather his thoughts and quickly assess his schedule. “I’ll talk to my boss. Maybe I can be there by tonight.”

His aunt muttered a disappointed “all right” before hanging up.

Grayson scrubbed a hand over his face, then placed a call to his boss.

“You’re up early,” Eli Sesay said, his voice as chipper as if it were noon rather than the crack of dawn. “Have you been able to meet with Rex Gibson yet?”

Guilt ate at Grayson, along with the frustration of being pulled in what felt like twenty different directions. As an undercover agent with the Phoenix Task Force in Washington, DC, he’d worked for weeks trying to help his team pin down who was heading a drug ring operating throughout the mid-Atlantic region. The ring had been expanding recently, not only growing its territory but also branching out into other criminal activities, which was why Phoenix was involved in an investigation that normally fell solely under the DEA’s purview.

He’d spent the last three weeks hanging out with one of the ring’s lower-level members, a small-time drug runner named Darryl. While Grayson was making progress infiltrating the ring, gaining Darryl’s trust and meeting some of the other lower-level players, it was frustratingly slow. He’d hoped to be further along by now with more info on the higher-ups, starting with Darryl’s supplier, Rex Gibson.

“I still haven’t met with Gibson, but I’m going to see Darryl again this afternoon.” Switching gears, Grayson explained his aunt’s call, ending with, “If I drive up to Scranton tonight, I should be able to get back to DC by Saturday morning.”

Eli’s usual no-nonsense tone softened. “Why don’t you stay with your mother for longer than that? We can let Aiden continue to work the case.”

Grayson rested his elbows on his knees as he thought through his options. Ever since the DEA had turned this case over to Phoenix, Eli had been receiving daily calls from his DEA counterpart, asking for progress reports. Aiden Turner, a longtime Phoenix agent with a few years’ seniority on Grayson, had worked the case for the past six months from Baltimore. When Aiden got a lead that key players were operating in DC, Grayson had been brought in on the case to pursue the DC connection while Aiden continued running down leads in Maryland.

There was no way Grayson was going to lose the momentum he’d worked so hard to build with Darryl. Ignoring the regret that tied his stomach in knots, he said, “It’s best for all of us if I keep plugging away.”

His boss was silent for a moment. “All right then. Call me after your meeting with Darryl.”

After agreeing that he would, Grayson ended the call. He tossed his phone back on the nightstand and headed for the shower, pushing aside for the moment his worry for his mother and the nagging unease that remained from a restless night’s sleep.