When Jack McGill's phone rang at two in the morning, the sound cut sharply into the muted world of a soupy San Francisco night. He had been lying in bed sincetwelve, unable to sleep. His mind was too filled, too troubled. The sudden sound jolted already jittery nerves.
In the time that it took him to grab for the phone, a dozen jarring thoughts came and went. "Yes?"
"Is this Jack McGill?" asked a voice he didn't know. It was female and strained.
"I'm Katherine Evans, one of Rachel's friends. There's been an accident. She's at the hospital in Monterey. I think you should come."
Jack sat up. "What kind of...