“This morning.”
“Was it something you ate?”
She shook her head. “Stomach flu. Skyler had it yesterday.” She looked at him blearily. “How did you get in here?”
But he wasn’t paying attention. He was opening the linen cabinet, rooting through the shoebox where she kept her medicines and Band-Aids.
“You have a thermometer?”
“By the bed.”
“Okay, hold on to me.”
Before she could grasp what that meant, he scooped her up in his arms. She gripped his jacket, hoping she wasn’t going to throw up on him.
He carried her into the bedroom and gently set her down on the unmade bed. Then he disappeared again.
Rowan squinted her eyes and looked at her dim room. Dirty clothes covered the floor. Her blinds were shut, but strips of fading daylight seeped through. It was evening. Wasn’t it?
She closed her eyes and tried to think. Today was Wednesday. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning.
He came back, and she heard a thunk as he set something on the rug beside the bed.
“Here’s a bucket if you need to throw up again.”
She winced and turned onto her side.
Then the mattress sank as he sat down. “Rowan, look at me.”
She squinted her eyes open.
“Do you need to go to the ER?”
“No.” She closed her eyes. “It’s just a bug.”
“Are you dehydrated?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m thirsty.”
“There’s water by your bed here. Can you drink some more?”
She nodded.
He helped her sit up, and she took another sip. Then another. It tasted good. The last time she’d tried to drink, it had come back up, along with everything in her stomach.
She lay back on the pillow and tried not to envision how repulsive she looked. And smelled. She hadn’t showered in two days.
Her eyes flew open as she remembered the stakeout. “Did you find him?”
Jack just looked at her. He nodded.
“Did you arrest him?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
He grabbed the thermometer off the nightstand, and it made a beep. “Here.” He put it into her mouth, and she watched him, trying to absorb what he’d just told her as he stared at her with those bottomless brown eyes.