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Avery. “I think he knows more than he’s admitting.”
    “Maybe, but he doesn’t seem ready to tell us anything.”
    “I still think I should have a go at him,” Morrow said.
    “That won’t be necessary,” Turner said quickly. “Adam’s about to get very sick. If he knows anything, he’ll talk.”
    “And if he doesn’t?” Avery asked.
    A glint of anger sparked in Turner’s eyes. “Well then, he’ll die.”

CHAPTER THREE
    THE DAY had been long, and Dr. Sydney Decker felt the effects down to her bones. Unlocking the door to her condominium, she stepped inside and entered her security code on the keypad, shutting off the alarm and locking the door behind her.
    She hated having to be so cautious. The alarm system had been Charles’s idea after a neighbor’s apartment had been broken into and robbed. She supposed she didn’t have much choice; it was the price she paid for living in the city. Dallas, like most major metropolitan areas, had a high crime rate.
    She dropped her mail on the hall table and kicked off her shoes. The cool tile felt good beneath her stockinged feet as she started for the living room, where she flipped on the stereo. Strains of Chopin filled the room, and she sighed, heading for the kitchen. She wanted a glass of wine, a long hot bath, and about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. Maybe then she’d start to feel human again.
    Without bothering to turn on the lights, she went straight to the refrigerator and pulled out a chilled bottle of chardonnay. She set it on the counter, then opened a nearby cabinet. As she reached for a wine goblet, she heard heavy footsteps and spun around, sending the glass shattering to the floor.
    “Jesus, Sydney, take it easy.”
    “Charles.” She pressed her hand to her racing heart. “What are you doing sneaking up on me like that?”
    He frowned. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I was in the den watching the news when I heard you come in.”
    “But what are you doing here?”
    He took a step toward her, noticed the broken glass at his feet, and stopped. “I told you this morning that I’d be here when you got home.”
    “Of course.” She felt foolish and petulant, and it seemed like years since she’d spoken to Charles. Had it really only been this morning? “You’re right, I forgot.”
    “And you forgot about our dinner plans as well.”
    Sydney glanced at the wall clock. It was after nine. “What time were the reservations?”
    “Eight-thirty.” His voice held a slight edge, and she knew she’d disappointed him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time.
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “I got tied up at the lab.”
Again.
She didn’t have to say it, the word hung just as heavily between them without having been spoken. “I know you’ve had those reservations for weeks.”
    For a moment she thought he’d let his anger show—she almost wished he would, just this once. Then he sighed. “Sit down and I’ll get your wine.”
    “Charles, really, I—”
    He raised a hand to stop her objection. “Just this once, Sydney, don’t argue with me.”
    “Okay then, I’ll get the broom and clean up my mess.”
    She saw another flash of annoyance in his eyes. “Just sit down. I’ll do it. You’re liable to cut your feet on all this broken glass.”
    She wanted to object but held back. Charles was accustomed to giving orders and having them followed, and though he tried to hide it, she knew it irritated him that she refused to jump at his every command. At times she contradicted him for the sole pleasure of being the only one who seemed to have the courage to do so.
    However, this once, if it made him happy to take care of her, she’d let him. After all, she’d been the one who’d ruined their evening. With a nod of acquiescence she settled onto a counter stool and watched him retrieve a couple of glasses and pour the wine before going for the broom and dustpan.
    “You’re obviously beat.” He started cleaning up the broken