He had left Linda’s room a few minutes before. The silent vigil with Jan in the narrow hospital room, while his mind churned with questions raised by Linda’s “accident,” had become too much for him. He felt as if he were going to explode. Jan could always sense his moods. When he had slipped from the room, saying he would be just outside the door if Linda woke, Jan had glanced at him searchingly. He stared at the paintings lining the corridor. They were an attempt to relieve the stark white walls and blank sheets of glass with splashes of bright color. They were a desperate distraction. They kept him from thinking about what might have happened to Linda and Carole this afternoon. And why it had happened. A check with the FBI’s SMV file had so far failed to turn up a stolen pickup matching the description of the one which had forced Carole’s car off the road. Scrapings of blue paint from the left front fender of the BMW had been sent to the Bureau’s Instrumental Analysis Unit, which specialized in hit-and-run investigations.
