Because Annie and Carol were friends, Jo had assumed Carol was an immortal. She wasn't. She had been a mortal coworker, and while she and Annie had been friends, Nicholas doubted his deceased wife would have told the woman anything to do with immortal business. Which meant Carol probably wouldn't know anything, because if he had been drugged and someone else had murdered the pregnant woman all those years ago, it had to have been an immortal who did it.
Still, if it had been preying on her mind, he supposed Annie might have let something slip about whatever she'd wanted to tell him. Only it was fifty years later, and Carol would be in her nineties now if she even lived.
Nicholas didn't hold out much hope. He suspected he'd have to try alternate ways to find out what Annie had wanted to tell him back then… and Nicholas had no intention of dragging Jo around while he did it. She had family, friends, school, her job, and a life to live, and he had nothing to offer her but running and hiding and the dangers that entailed. Playing investigator was going to be a lot more risky than just life on the run. He'd spent the last fifty-plus years always moving, never staying in one place for long. But to try to find out what Annie had been thinking of would mean staying in Toronto, and he wouldn't be able to prevent leaving a trail for Mortimer and the men to follow. His biggest fear was of Jo getting herself hurt or killed trying to save him should the enforcers catch up to them.
He wouldn't risk that.
Nicholas straightened with a sigh and turned away from the bed. It was better this way, he told himself as he slipped out of the room. He paused in the living room to check the phone there, but it was dead. While Sam hadn't sublet the apartment, she apparently had canceled the phone and cable. The water and electricity were obviously included in the rent, because they were both still on.
He set the phone back in its rest and left the apartment to take the stairs down to the main floor lobby. It was empty when Nicholas first entered, but he only had to wait a moment before a young woman entered and moved toward the buzzers in the entry. Nicholas slipped into the woman's thoughts, bringing her to a halt. He took a moment to search her thoughts and be sure she had a cell phone and then turned her toward the door as he moved forward to open it for her.
Nicholas let her in, urged her to a pair of seats in the lobby, had her take her phone out and then sit while he quickly punched in the number for the enforcer house. He placed the phone to his ear, grimacing when a woman's voice answered.
"Sam?" he asked reluctantly. It was the same woman who had answered the phone when he'd called from outside the veterinary clinic, and he knew Jo's sister lived at the house with Mortimer. When she answered yes in a surprised voice, he cleared his throat and said, "I need to speak to Mortimer."
There was a pause and then she asked politely, "Who shall I say is calling, please?"
"Just put Mortimer on, Sam," he said quietly.
"Nicholas?" she asked sharply. "I recognize your voice from the last time you called. Mortimer told me it was you after he hung up."
Great, Nicholas thought dryly.
"Where's my sister?" she asked, her voice grim.
"If you give Mortimer the phone I'll tell him where she is so he can come get her," he said patiently.
"Is she okay?" Her voice was worried now, and Nicholas rolled his eyes, wishing someone else had answered the phone.
"She's fine, Sam. She's sleeping right now. Please get Mortimer on the phone."
"Mortimer said she's your life mate." It wasn't phrased like a question, but he knew it was one.
"Yes, Sam. Jo is my life mate," Nicholas said apologetically and wasn't at all surprised when she cursed. Sighing, he said, "I know it's not quite what you were hoping for when you set out to find your sister a life mate."
"You're damned right it isn't," Sam snapped. "You're rogue."
"Yeah, well, no one's perfect," he muttered under his breath.
"Ha ha," she said coldly. "Put her on the phone."
"Sam," he said, growing a little impatient now. "I'm trying to get her back to you where she'll be safe. If you'd get Mortimer I'll tell him where she is and he can send Bricker and Anders to come get her. So put him on the goddamned phone and—"
"Nicholas?"
He paused abruptly at the male voice. "Mortimer?"
"Yeah. Who's M. Johansen?"
"What?" he asked with bewilderment.
"The name on call display," Mortimer explained. "M. Johansen."
"Oh." Nicholas grimaced, his gaze dropping to Ms. Johansen, who sat blank-faced on the chair before him. "Just a kindly visitor of an ex-neighbor of Sam's who loaned me her phone. Jo's at Sam's old apartment. Come and get her. And this time, keep her safe."