experience?"
"A little, but not the part about me failing my patient. I haven't been able to tell anyone that—until tonight, until you forced me to talk in exchange for your help, which you still haven't given me."
"I'm still thinking about it."
"I didn't realize you were such a thoughtful man. The few times Robert spoke of you he described you as a man of action, a fearless, courageous warrior."
"That's what he said about me?"
"Pretty much in those words," she said. "But when I asked him more about you, he shut up. He certainly never told me what went down between you. I'm kind of shocked about all that. And Lisa never said a word to me, either. Not that I know her very well, but we've had a few dinners together."
"I don't want to talk about her."
She could understand that. "So, getting back to Robert…"
"Right. Tell me what Robert said to you on the phone this morning."
She tried to remember his exact words. "He wanted to know if anyone from the FBI or State Department had spoken to me. I said that I'd been interviewed by both agencies."
"What did they ask you?"
"They wanted to know about the attack, what I could remember, whether I could identify anyone, and I said no. The men had masks on. I didn't see their faces. They asked me about Robert, where he was, when I last saw him, where I thought he might be now. I said I had no idea. They also questioned me about the clinical trial, whether Robert had said anything to me about the data."
"Had he?"
"Not really. And since I only worked with bits and pieces of data, I had no idea how the trial was going. I wasn't seeing the whole picture, which is not at all uncommon by the way."
"Okay. What else did Robert say to you this morning?"
"He asked me to get him something from his office, to make sure that no one saw me do it. He wanted me to give you the item and ask you to meet him on Sunday."
"Why Sunday? Why not tomorrow?"
"He said he didn't know how long it would take him to get there or how long it would take me to convince you to help him."
"And he thought three days would be enough?" Reid asked dryly.
She shrugged. "I guess."
"Where am I supposed to meet him?"
"I'm not sure. He said to give you this quote. It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves . Do you know what that means?"
The spark in his eyes told her he knew exactly what it meant.
"Yes, I know what it means."
Relief ran through her. "Good."
"Did you bring whatever you're supposed to give me?"
She shook her head. "No. I was waiting until late tonight to go down to the hospital."
"What are you trying to get?"
"Well, it's kind of weird. Robert told me to get the present I'd given him last year for his birthday. He wouldn't let me say what it was on the phone. He was afraid someone might be listening in on our call, which sounds really creepy, but I'm hoping that wasn't the case. Anyway, what I gave him was a notebook, an artist's sketchpad. When Robert gets stressed, he likes to draw. It helps him to relax. He told me that when he was a little kid he would draw his own comic books."
A glimmer of something shifted in Reid's gaze, as if her words had touched a deeply buried nerve.
"I remember that," he muttered. " The Amazing Adventures of Razor and Rocco ." He blew out a breath. "I haven't thought about that story in years. Robert would spend hours on those pictures. It was the only thing he did that ever distracted him from his studies. Of course, he was as good at illustrating comics as he was at everything else," he added dryly. "My parents' pride in him knew no bounds."
"They must have been proud of you, too."
"I gave them more headaches than feelings of pride."
She wasn't surprised. She had a feeling that Reid had raised a lot of hell in his life. His hard edges had no doubt come from pushing the limits, which had probably made him a very good soldier. And that was probably why Robert wanted Reid's help, something he still hadn't promised to give.
"So Robert asked you to get