A Sneeze to Die For

by Teresa Trent

  “Uncle Wiley, settle down. We’ll work this out. They’re not going to be here until tomorrow.”

  “Do you know how soon tomorrow is when you need to marinate?” he asked.

  With a thud, the elevator jolted to a stop knocking Nora to the floor. Wiley, not aware of the situation, continued his rant about the shortness of time and the chemistry of adding flavor to chicken through the process of marination. In the darkness of the stalled elevator, the only light in the metal box came from her cell phone. Nora attempted to break into Wiley’s panic attack.

  “Wiley! Uncle Wiley! Listen to me. I need your help.”

  “You need my help? I need yours. Good cookin’ is a true art form and without the proper ingredients …”

  “Uncle Wiley, I need you to stop talking. The elevator stopped moving. I think I’m trapped.”

  “You’re what?”

  “The elevator was going and then it stopped … abruptly. The lights are out.”

  There was a silence on the other end and then he spoke softly. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so. It stopped so quickly it knocked me to the floor.”

  “I was supposed to be looking at that elevator. It’s been right ornery lately, but I got so busy with the restaurant, I didn’t get to it. I’m heading there now.”

  Uncle Wiley’s side of the phone went dead. Nora attempted to stand, finding her way back to the button panel.

  Her cell phone rang before she could finish the job.

  “Nora? Are you okay? Wiley just told me about the elevator.” Her business partner, Marty, sounded tired but concerned. Getting ready for the convention must’ve been wearing her down as well.

  “Yes, I’m okay,” Nora assured her.

  “We’re going to call Max. He might be the night auditor, but you and I know if anybody can fix a machine, it would be him.”

  Nora sighed. She knew Marty would want to call Max. She called him for everything. Unfortunately, his realm of knowledge was mainly the things he learned about computers after watching You Tube videos. “Marty, you know his expertise only applies to computers.”

  “Try to stay calm. If the elevator service can’t get here for a day, then Max and Wiley will come up with a way to get you out of there.”

  “We have an elevator service?”

  The budget at the Tunie was tighter than a divorcee’s waistband on her first night back in the dating world. “No, but we’ll find one. Hopefully, fixing it won’t cost us a fortune. I guess I was taking too much of a risk trying to rely on Wiley to keep something as complicated as the elevator running.”

  Marty had been the one person who believed in Nora when she first came to town with a letter from her mother. Her arrival in Piney Woods, Texas was rough, but one of the first friends she made was Marty. Nora never forgot her kindness and when she came into an inheritance, she knew she wanted to invest in Marty’s pet project, the Tunie Hotel.

  “Give us a little bit, we’ll call you again,” Marty said before she ended the call.

  Lonesome for company, Nora dialed another number.

  “Lucy Cooper,” Nora’s half-sister answered.

  “Hey, Lucy it’s me.”

  “Hey girl, what are you up to?” Nora’s mother as well as Lucy’s mother had both fallen for the charms of Adam Brockwell, the man who saved the town from financial ruin after the oil bust. Nora’s mother had been a young girl just out of high school, while Lucy’s mother worked in Brockwell’s house. He pursued them both, even while being married. Lucy, now a financial planner, used to work at the Piney Woods bank. She and her mother had decided to take a trip to New York City with some of her inheritance. Between the Broadway shows, jazz clubs and shopping they were having a wonderful time.

  “Not much, I’m stuck in the elevator, and you?”

  “We just spent the afternoon at shopping on Fifth Avenue. Wait. What did you say? Dang. Are you serious?”

  “Very.”

  “Lucky you, thanks to our daddy’s inheritance you’re now half owner of that death trap. That elevator must be at least fifty years old. What can I do to help?”

  “Do you know who the bank uses for maintenance on their elevator?”

  “Not really, but Wilber at the bank always handled that kind of thing.” There was a rustling in the background and then Nora heard Lucy say, “That’s beautiful. Do they have it in a size 7?” She then returned to the phone. “Can I call you back? We’re shopping, and you won’t believe the dress I just found.” Lucy had a sense of style that just wouldn’t stop. Nora had no doubt she was buying out New York City.

  “Sure, I’m not going anywhere,” Nora answered.

  “Yeah, right.” There was a click on the other side.

  Nora kicked off her shoes and sat down in a corner of the elevator hugging her knees to her chest. Was there any possibility that the cables on the elevator could break? Had they ever been replaced during the decades of use? By her estimation, she was somewhere around the second floor. Even though she hadn’t always agreed with her mother, this was one time she would have loved to hear her reassuring voice, telling her everything was going to be alright. The sound of the cell phone cut through the air.

  “Nora?” She breathed in a sigh of relief as she recognized the low male voice on the other end.

  “Hi, Tuck.”

  “Marty told me about the elevator. Are you hurt?” Tuck’s sweet words were a balm to Nora’s sense of aloneness as she sat on the floor in the dark.

  “Don’t worry, Wiley and Max are on it,” Nora assured him.

  “And me,” Tuck added. “You have me.” The police department, where Tuck was an officer, was right next to the Tunie Hotel, so he wasn’t too far away. She loved the sound of his voice and lately, she had been coming to the delightful conclusion that she was in love with the rest of him, too. From the unevenness of his breath she could tell he was walking.

  “I’m in the hotel now. I see Wiley. Hold on.” Nora heard muffled voices and then Tuck returned to the line. “We’re going to try to force open the doors on the third floor and hopefully the elevator car is somewhere close. Do you see any light in the crack of the door?”

  Near the ceiling there was a sliver of light illuminating the tiny line where the doors met.

  “Yes. I see it. I see the light.” Her words sounded like a bad line in a cheesy horror movie. Then again, being stuck in an elevator in a very old hotel was also kind of like being in a slasher flick.

  “We’re going to try and open the doors and see if we can get you out that way. Just hold tight. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Where was she going to go? Sitting quietly in the dark, she could just make out the voices of Wiley and Tuck above her. They were going to get her out, she was sure, but that nagging little thought about the elevator cable breaking was starting to surface. She again tried to calculate the bodily damage that would occur when she suddenly shot to the bottom. She was just above the second floor which meant that had to be about a twenty-five-foot drop. Then she went a step further with her anxiety and thought about what would happen to the Meow Meetup convention if they didn’t have a working elevator. Many of the cat fanciers were older people. The thought of climbing stairs to get to their room at night could be catastrophic. She giggled to herself. Catastrophic.

  Why was she giggling? Maybe the oxygen in the elevator was growing thin? She’d probably be passed out by the time Tuck and Wiley pulled her out. She started breathing deeper, thinking if she could get more oxygen to her brain she’d stop acting like an idiot. There was a giant creaking as Tuck and Wiley grunted against the door. Nora waited for the sliver of light to widen, but nothing was happening.

  Wiley came onto Tuck’s phone.

  “So, Nora,” Wiley said his words even and modulated as if speaking to a small child. “These old elevators are a piece of work, but we h
ave the door open. For some reason, the fourth floor seems to be stuck open, too. Max is here now, and he has an idea. I’ll give him the phone.”

  There was a shuffling of the phone and Max came on the line. “Hey, Nora. You just love to wake me up from my sleep, don’t you?” At over three hundred pounds, Nora had worried about Max manning the hotel by himself all night. Marty lived in the hotel, and there had been many nights when Nora finished her shift and found Marty and Max talking as old friends do. Their friendship had spanned decades.

  “Here’s my plan, Nora. It all depends on you. Look up at the ceiling. One of those tiles should be a door to the shaft. You need to open it.”

  Nora’s breathing stopped. If he was having her find a passageway, he was going to tell her to lift herself into the elevator shaft.

  When she didn’t respond right away Max asked, “Are you listening?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good girl. So, you’re going to climb out that door and get on the little ladder that’s on the wall of the shaft. That ladder is going to lead to the door that’s open on the third floor. All you have to do is climb the ladder.

  Nora looked at the tiles above her and put the phone on speaker and into her pocket. Four pieces covered the ceiling. Three had lights and one did not. More than likely, that was where the door was. She put the box of sheets squarely under it.

  “Do you have the tile off?”

  “No,” she answered sharply. Didn’t he realize she had to process this information and then get enough guts up to actually do it? “I’m about to try it.” She refolded the top flaps of the box to give it more strength. One of the flaps caught on the brown mailing envelope that held Izzy Franklin’s manuscript causing it to rip. Right now, that couldn’t concern her. Hoping that the box of sheets did not collapse under her weight, she stepped up gingerly. Once her footing was steady, she pushed on the ceiling tile and found herself staring into the elevator shaft. There was a ray of light coming through the open door on the third floor.

  “I have the ceiling tile off,” she shouted up into the darkness.

  There was a circle of a flashlight beam roamed across the elevator shaft. “Great!” Max said. “If you can pull up on that cross bar on the top of the elevator, that will put you into the shaft. Find the ladder. Get on that and take a few steps to me.”

  The thought of climbing on top of an elevator car terrified Nora. Her hands shook as she reached around the crossbar. Pulling her entire body weight upward with arms felt impossible.

  “I can’t do it.”

  Marty cheered her on, her voice echoing in the shaft. “You can do it, Nora. Try one more time.”

  “See if you can jump up,” Tuck’s voice joined Marty’s.

  “If she did that, she took the chance of the cardboard box collapsing under her. She wasn’t a large woman, but she could break cardboard. Drawing in a breath, she counted and made a jump for the bar. She pulled her elbows over the bar then dragged a leg up into the elevator shaft. Once she got on top, she took a second and rested. Spotting the ladder on the wall, Nora felt a surge of relief. The only problem was her view included the perilous way down to the first floor.

  “Don’t look down. Just grab hold of the ladder,” Wiley shouted.

  Easy for him to say, she thought. Nora pulled herself up and started climbing the ladder, trying not to look at the cement tunnel that could lead to her death. After a couple of steps up, she felt strong arms pulling her out of the elevator shaft and onto the cold tile of the third floor.

  “Are you okay?” Tuck asked. Nora knocked the dust and grime from the elevator off her blue silk dress. She had loved the color and purchased it with the convention in mind. Now it looked bedraggled and stained.

  “Except for a little grease, I seem to be just fine. I’m afraid I left some paperwork, the new sheets and an envelope for Evangeline Cartwright in the elevator.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take care of it later when we get the elevator fixed,” Marty assured her.

  Pulling her to her feet, Wiley shook his head. “It was on my list. I knew I should have gotten to this. There is just so much going on with the restaurant right now. It’s my fault.” Wiley pulled a small plastic coin out of his pocket. “It’s my six-month chip from Alcoholics Anonymous. At this rate, I’m not sure if I’m going to make it to my next one.”

  Nora agreed that the chance of a back slide seemed to be significantly increasing.

  Her phone rang in her pocket. “You wouldn’t believe this. I just picked up a Kate Spade purse for forty-five dollars. They were selling it right on the street. I had no idea they had street boutiques. Are you still stuck?” Lucy asked.

  “I’m out. Thanks, and I would check inside that bag to see if it’s a knock off. A street boutique? I thought you were the investment counselor.”

  “Counselor yes, big city savvy, maybe not so much. Dang, I’ll bet the guy doesn’t have a return policy either.”

  “I’m guessing no.”

  “So glad I have you to look out for me. You be careful and stay out of rickety elevators. You’re the only white half-sister I have,” Lucy said. Nora ended the call and turned to Wiley.

  “Don’t worry about it, Uncle Wiley. Let me take care of the elevator. You keep working on the chicken.”

  “Better yet, let me,” Marty said. “You worry about the front desk. I’ll work on the elevator.”

  Tuck, who had been staring up the shaft looking for God knows what, now returned to the group.

  “What a way to start your day, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re okay?” He took her hand in his, warmly enclosing it.

  Nora was young and fit but crawling out of an elevator had tough for her. Just one more thing to worry about before the cat lovers descended on them.

  “I’m on the ground floor now, so no worries.” Nora squeezed his hand.

  As Nora drew closer to Tuck, Max lumbered backward to get out of her way. In the process he stepped on Marty’s foot and she twisted around to be free. When she did, her ankle twisted, and she landed on the floor.

  “Are you alright?” Nora asked.

  Max’s chin quivered. “Oh gosh, Marty. I’m so sorry. I stepped on you with my big clodhopper of a foot.” He reached for her hand to help her unsteadily to her feet.

  “Uh,” she put her hand on Max’s arm. “I think I’m okay.” She tried to take a step but then her foot faltered.

  “You are not okay and it’s all my fault. Let’s get some ice on that.” Max said taking charge.

  “Nora, we need to get on that elevator.” Marty said through clenched teeth.

  “Lucy told me to call Wilber at the bank. He should have the elevator guy’s name on file.

  “Good. I’ll call Wilber about the elevator and then I think I’m going to lie down.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to just leave it to me?” Max said, now in hover mode around Marty.

  “No. I’m fine. It will take five minutes.”

  “If you say so.” Max said, eyeing her cautiously.

  Max helped Marty toward the office.

  Tuck grabbed Nora’s other hand. “You scared me. Try not to do that again today, okay? I know you have a lot going on with the convention, and I’m trying to stay out of your way, but I can be over here in a heartbeat.” Tuck kissed her lightly but lingered enough that Nora gently pushed him away.

  “And I love knowing that. Now on your way. I have to get back to work.”

  Chapter 3

  W

  Her thoughts still dwelling in Tuck’s goodbye kiss, Nora’s mood was renewed and she

  returned to the lobby to find Max standing at the computer.

  “That ankle is swelling up. I know this is terrible timing, but Marty is going to need to stay off it for a least a day or two. With or without her, I’d say it’s system go for the cou
ntdown.”

  “I can’t believe the convention is finally here and we’ve lost Marty.”

  “I know what you mean.” He picked up the phone. “Let me just give her a call and make sure she’s really staying off that foot. She can be stubborn you know.”

  Max spoke into the phone and punched the intercom button. “Are you okay up there? Do we need to send up some ice?”

  “I’m fine …” She assured him. “I took some ibuprofen and the throbbing has started to go away.”

  Nora added, “Really, we can send up a bucket of ice.”

  “No thanks. I can’t believe I did this. You wouldn’t happen to have any gossip magazines and boxed chocolates, would you? I’m ready to wallow in a despair right now.” As Max hung up the phone, a look of concern crossed his features.

  “She is going to go stir crazy up there. We need to make sure she stays off that foot.”

  Wiley slunk into the lobby with guilt written all over him.

  Nora turned to her uncle whose shoulders were sagging on his thin frame. “You told me that the elevator was acting up, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

  Wiley looked down at his fingernails. “I’m so sorry. I know I should have gotten to it. I’ve just been so busy with the restaurant and all. It’s one thing to give an old drunk management of a restaurant, but it’s quite another to tell him to feed a herd of cat lovers in one weekend. It’s a lot on a guy.”

  He was right. It was a lot of responsibility to put on one man. If he hadn’t been her mother’s brother would she have jumped into giving management of the Tunie restaurant to a lifelong alcoholic? There was a reason why people checked in and out of rehab like it was a revolving door. Stress can knock any resolution out the window, no matter how heartfelt.

  “Don’t worry about the elevator. You’re right. I’m putting too much on you. I’m fine and we’re working on fixing it.”

  Wiley’s assistant cook, Caesar now stood behind them holding a dish towel in his hands. His white cook’s jacket clung a little tightly around his waist.