"Of course. Or I could drive you. But you won't be getting all the way back to Phoenix tonight. I was just concerned that you might have left all of your things back in your hotel."
"Oh." She blushed, feeling foolish. She was normally a good judge of character, but today she was jumping at shadows. Maybe residual fear from her earlier panic attacks was clouding her reason. But Lacroix seemed able to keep her off balance with nothing more than a glance or a word.
Rebecca shook her head. "My bag is in the car. I was planning to get a room up in Flagstaff tonight."
"Is that where your interviews are?"
"What?" Too late, she remembered the lie she'd told earlier. "Yes. Yes, my interviews are in Flagstaff."
He opened a door to their right with his keycard, and gestured her through. Recalling the lab she'd been trapped in during the tour, she hung back.
"I don't have one of those cards. What if I need to— "
"There are extras in the guest suite. I didn't anticipate you'd need a card or I would have brought one for you."
Not entirely convinced, but lacking a reason to resist, she walked through the door. It led into an L-shaped corridor, with a small park-like gathering of potted trees, ferns and benches at the corner. The glowing skylights above the plants reassured her, and she cheerfully followed him through the second door past the bend, into the living room of a generous suite.
White wicker furniture with ivy-print cushions clustered around a low coffee table. She sank gratefully onto the couch and kicked off her pumps, tucking her feet up under her.
"There are snacks in the cupboard and beverages in the refrigerator," Lacroix told her, pointing toward the low wall separating the living room from the kitchenette. Then he pointed toward the archway in the opposite wall. "The bath and bedroom are through there, so you can freshen up or take a nap."
"Thanks, but hopefully they'll be able to send a car right away."
She glanced around the room, but couldn't see the phone. She made a more careful perusal, finding a stained glass window, bookshelves with a TV and a VCR, a small breakfast table and two chairs. But no telephone.
"If they can't send a car until tomorrow, it would make more sense for you to stay here, rather than going south to Prescott, then turning around and heading north tomorrow. You'd only be retracing your steps."
She tried to keep her voice casual, and laced her fingers together so her hands wouldn't tremble. "I suppose you're going to suggest that as long as I'm here, I could help Dr. Chen with his research, right?"
"It would give you something to do."
"Where's the phone?"
"The guest suite doesn't have one. Unfortunately, we had a problem with visitors making long distance calls."
She stood up, shoving her feet back into her shoes. They pinched. "Then let's go where we can make the call."
He didn't move. "Why are you so set against helping Dr. Chen?"
"Why are you so determined to make me help him?"
He paused, then rose from his seat. For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he asked, "What would you say if I told you my daughter was dying, and we need your help to save her?"
"I'd say that seems like an unbelievable coincidence. What's your real reason? I found something, didn't I? I was getting too close, and you're afraid I'll spill the beans in my article. That's why you're making up this elaborate ruse."
He glared at her, his eyes glittering a dangerous emerald, but he didn't deny it. Ice formed around her heart as she realized the magnitude of her idiocy.
"I didn't leave my lights on, did I? You did something to my car so it wouldn't start, so I couldn't leave. That's probably what you were talking to that goon about. I'd have to be crazy to let one of your people anywhere near me with a needle. Heaven only knows what might be in it."
She remembered the lounge, and the glass of water she'd gulped so eagerly. The glass of water he'd poured for himself but hadn't touched. That's when she'd started having trouble thinking clearly. The lying cheat had drugged her!
"Are you quite finished?" His voice remained soft, but his pale hands gripped the back of the chair so tightly, his knuckles matched the white wicker.
"I haven't even started! I saw the way those researchers were scared stiff of you. You think you're so high and mighty, the ruler of your own little kingdom here. Well, it's not the middle ages. I don't care who you are, you can't keep somebody locked up against their will. Take me into Prescott now, or— "
"You're staying here. I'll just have to make sure it's not against your will."
"You probably don't even have a daughter."