Beneath the Silk by Wendy Rosnau

bedroom and went straight to the window. Gazing across the alley, he expected to see lights on in Sunni’s apartment, but when he didn’t, his eyebrows lifted. Before he’d left her office, he’d ordered her to go straight home. She’d agreed she would.
    He lit up a cigarette and took a hard drag, then sent the smoke out the open window. Mac appeared at his side, and as he reached out and stroked the dog’s head he recalled Mac’s impressive performance in Joe’s office, and then his crazy antics at Silks a few hours later.
    The file on Mac had claimed he was a Super Dog at one time. Jackson had found that hard to believe after living with the lazy mutt—if Mac wasn’t sleeping, he was chewing up a T-shirt or the leg off a chair. But today he’d witnessed ninety-eight pounds of K-9 aggression come alive like a demon from hell. It was almost as if Mac had been running on empty, and then somewhere between the first and the thirty-ninth floor of Masado Towers someone had fed him a four-pack of Energizers.
    He admitted he had a new respect for the dog after seeing him in action. He wondered if he was on a comeback and if that was true, what had caused it.
    He checked his watch, then eyed Sunni’s dark apartment. Suddenly anxious, he gave Mac a nudge with his knee. “Go check it out. See if she forgot to lock the slider again. See what you can find out.”
    As if Mac was just waiting for the go-ahead, he jumped through the open window and trotted down the fire escape, then leapt to the alley. Seconds later, he scaled the iron stairs up the side of the Crown Plaza and vaulted onto Sunni’s terrace.
    It had stated to rain, a cold fall rain that put a definite chill in the air. Jackson watched through the rain as Mac nudged at the slider, and sure enough, it opened.
    As Mac disappeared inside, Jackson’s cell phone rang. He considered ignoring it. What if it was Clide? He wasn’t up to talking to his boss, especially when, at the moment, he couldn’t tell him precisely where his daughter was. On the other hand, maybe it was one of his old contacts. Maybe they had found out something more on Elizabeth Carpenter’s disappear ance.
    On the fifth ring, Jackson pulled his phone from his pocket. “Ward here.”
    “Jackson?”
    “Sis?”
    “Can you come get me? They won’t let me leave unless—”
    “Where are you?”
    “I’m at Northwestern Memorial.”
    “The hospital? Why? What happened?”
    “Just come. I’ll explain when you get here. Hurry, can you?”
    When the phone went dead, Jackson jammed it into his pocket, then went to the window and gave a shrill whistle . A few seconds later, Mac was back on Sunni’s terrace. He motioned to the dog, and in minutes Mac was on the move, racing down the fire escape and heading back to the Wilchard.

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    Chapter 7
    « ^ »
    T he bad news was that the cab driver was in surgery. The good news was Sunni had escaped the accident without any serious injuries.
    She checked her watch and wondered how long it would take Jackson to get there. She’d had mixed emotions about calling him. But someone had just played Russian roulette with her life on the freeway and she would be a fool to dismiss the incident as just a freak accident.
    She wrapped her arms around herself and watched the minutes on the clock slowly tick by. When the emergency door opened a little while later, she shot her head up, only to be disappointed when the man who stepped into the room was Detective Williams.
    “You were luckier than the cab driver, Miss Blais.”
    “Yes, I was,” she agreed “He’s still in surgery.”
    “You told the officer at the scene of the accident that you believe the car deliberately sideswiped the cab. Is that true?”
    “Yes.”
    He dug in his pocket for his notepad. “Can you fill me in on what happened?”
    Sunni let out a tired sigh and regretted it. Even the slightest movement sent pain shooting throughout her entire body. She moaned inwardly and gripped the edge