Olive had never seen him before, but he was obviously someone close to the Hansens.
“I’m sorry, only one family member is allowed in with her right now,” Mitzi told the man.
“I’m Brandon Phelps,” the man said. “Did they leave a message for me?”
Olive stored his name away.
“As a matter of fact, they did.” Mitzi handed him a note. “Hope that helps.”
“Perfect.” He took the piece of paper and stepped back.
Olive continued to watch the man as he paced with his cell phone to his ear.
What she wouldn’t give to hear what was being said on the other side of that conversation.
“Sure,” he finally said. “I can pick those things up for you. Is there anything else you need?”
Olive’s breath caught.
Then he said, “Yes, I know where you keep the spare key. I’ll go grab everything from your house and bring it back to the hospital.”
Panic raced through her.
This man was heading to Rebecca and Matt’s house.
She had to warn Nova before she was caught and their cover was blown.
As soon as the man left the waiting room, Olive dialed Nova’s number.
But the call rang and rang.
Nova didn’t pick up.
Was her colleague all right?
Even if she was okay now, there was a good chance Nova wouldn’t be okay if this man caught her.
Olive’s muscles bristled.
She had to figure out exactly what to do.
Olive tried to call Nova again.
Again, there was no answer.
She texted her.
There was no response.
But what could she do? Nova had taken the Jeep, so it wasn’t as if Olive could jump in the vehicle to go warn her.
No, aside from asking to borrow Mitzi’s car—which could blow both their covers—Olive was stuck here without a ride.
Although . . . the person who’d sent Olive that picture of her and Mitzi together might already know who they are and why they were here.
They’d have to cross that bridge when they reached it.
She drew in a deep breath.