by C. J. Box
“People use this balcony to smoke,” Sheridan said, using the toe of her shoe to scrape flattened butts off the concrete. “I’m sure they’re not supposed to, but they must come out here to light up when nobody is looking. You’d think doctors and nurses would know better, wouldn’t you?”
“I guess.”
“You’d be amazed how many kids I know who smoke cigarettes,” Sheridan said. “Of course, even more of them smoke weed. It’s just too easy to get down in Colorado now.”
“I know some kids who smoke weed,” Lucy said.
“That’s too young.”
“You should tell them that. I’m sure they’d stop,” Lucy said with a sly smile.
Sheridan huffed. She obviously didn’t like getting needled, even when she deserved it. Sheridan could be bossy and haughty because she was the oldest and most put-together. At least that’s what everybody thought.
Sheridan said, “Don’t you start smoking.”
Lucy shook her head. “I tried it and it made my throat sore. I just didn’t like it at all.”
“Good.”
“What about you?”
Sheridan watched an airplane descend toward the Billings airport up on the rimrocks above the city. She said, “I smoked weed with April once, back before she turned into a cowgirl. I guess I was trying to bond with her, sort of, during her outlaw period. I didn’t like the way it made me feel. I hate not feeling in control. And don’t you dare tell Mom and Dad.”
“I won’t. Was it yours or April’s?”
“Hers.” After a beat: “Of course.”
“Do you think she’ll ever be . . . normal?” Lucy asked her older sister.
“I don’t know. She looks terrible.”
“Mom said she looked worse last week.”
Sheridan shook her head. “You just wonder, you know? What if she comes out of it with real brain damage? How are Mom and Dad going to cope with that? What if she needs constant care? If that’s the case, maybe it would be better if . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Don’t say it,” Lucy said.
“You’re right.”
The balcony door opened and Marybeth looked out and said, “There you two are.” She sounded frustrated. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Sheridan said. “Just watching the snow. Did you think we were smoking?”
“Why would I think that?” Marybeth said.
“I was just kidding, Mom,” Sheridan said, shaking her head.
“Aren’t you getting cold?”
“A little,” Sheridan said.
Lucy asked her mom, “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” Marybeth said. “Well, not really. I can’t get your father on the phone. I’ve called the house and his cell phone. Finally, I called the dispatcher and she said she’d try to raise him.”
Both girls turned toward their mother. Whenever she referred to Joe as “your father,” it meant she was angry with him. Sheridan said, “This sounds kind of familiar.”
“I know,” Marybeth said. “It happens all the time. But I don’t want him to go off the grid now.”
“You know Dad,” Sheridan said. Lucy always envied her sister’s close relationship with their dad. It was a result of being the oldest and also being the most willing to spend time in his world. At the same time, Lucy knew she couldn’t fake interest in hunting, fishing, and driving around in a pickup, checking licenses.
Regarding Sheridan’s comment, Marybeth just shook her head. Her eyes were hard.
“What does the doctor say?” Sheridan asked.
Marybeth took a deep breath as if to put her anger with Joe aside for a moment. “They’ve completely stopped the propofol drip. Now it’s a waiting game. They’re thinking she should regain consciousness by midmorning. They’ll watch her vital signs all night and be on the alert for problems.”
“What kinds of problems?” Lucy asked.
“Maybe a seizure,” Marybeth said, reaching out and putting her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “It could be anything, I guess. But if she comes out of it on schedule and without problems, well, we’ll know something tomorrow.”
Lucy nodded.
“There’s nothing we can do tonight except be with her and pray,” Marybeth said softly.
“We could eat,” Sheridan said. When both Marybeth and Lucy looked at her, she said, “Sorry, that sounded bad. What I meant was, we should have dinner and maybe get checked into the hotel. Then we could do shifts during the night so everyone gets at least a little sleep.”
Marybeth considered it for a moment, then nodded briskly. Sheridan knew how much her mother loved a mission. “You’re right. I’ll call the hotel, and I’ll get some dinner recommendations from the front desk. What do you girls want to eat?”
“Not elk steak,” Lucy said.
“I’d like elk steak,” Sheridan said, gently shoving her sister, who smiled. “I miss it.”
Marybeth rolled her eyes, then told them she was off to make the calls. She said she also had to meet with the financial representative at the hospital administrative office about still-unresolved insurance issues.
“Are you two going to stay out here in the snow until it gets dark?” Marybeth asked.
Sheridan shrugged.
“Okay, I’ll find you.”
A few moments after their mother had left, Sheridan said, “Are you sure he’s here?”
Lucy nodded.
“Where?”
“On the same floor. But they won’t let us see him.”
“We’ll see about that. Follow me.”
Lucy said, “Are we going to get in trouble?”
“Maybe. But he’s my master falconer. I have a right to see him.”
To Lucy, it sort of made sense. And if Sheridan was willing to try it, why shouldn’t she?
—
SHERIDAN HAD DISCOVERED the storage room earlier that afternoon as she wandered the hallways. She told Lucy she’d watched a hospital staffer in scrubs push a laundry cart down the hallway to the door and press four buttons on a keypad to release the lock. The staffer didn’t seem to notice that Sheridan was watching over his shoulder and that she could see which numbers he pressed. She’d waited for the man to leave before trying the code. It worked.
Sheridan pressed 7-7-7-1 and the two girls slipped inside and shut the door behind them.
The room seemed to serve as a transfer station between the hospital rooms and the laundry on some other floor. Carts of old scrubs and bed linens were crowded inside, and the walls were lined with shelving filled with clean bedsheets, towels, and other linens.
“Find something that will fit,” Sheridan said, leaning over and rooting through the nearest cart. She pulled out a light green scrub top and held it to her chest, then discarded it as too large. “Try not to find something with blood on it.”
Lucy froze.
“What, did you forget this was a hospital?”
“I’m not sure we should be doing this,” Lucy said.
“It’s an adventure,” Sheridan said, pulling a pair of short, wrinkled scrub bottoms out of the pile. “Here—try these. An elf must have worn them and they might fit you.”
“Funny,” Lucy said drily.
“And look what we’ve got here,” Sheridan said, opening the top drawer of a gray metal desk. Lucy could see it was filled with ID badges and lanyards.
“Probably people who don’t work here anymore,” Sheridan said, handing one to Lucy and looping another over her own head.
Lucy looked at the photo of a heavyset Hispanic woman on the ID Sheridan had given her, and said, “I don’t look anything like Lupé Rodriguez.”
Sheridan waved her off. “No one ever checks these things,” she said, as if she’d done it a thousand times before. “Just watch my lead.”
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SHERIDAN CRACKED OPEN the door and peeked outside. Their streetclothes were on one of the shelves. Now Sheridan wore pale green and Lucy wore pale blue. Both sets of scrubs were wrinkled but clean.
“Clear,” she said.
“Which way?” Sheridan asked Lucy once they were in the hallway. Lucy gestured toward the end of the hall, then right.
Sheridan walked with haste and whispered, “Move right along, Lucy. Pretend you have a purpose.”
Lucy giggled.
“And don’t giggle. Act like you belong here. And remember: if we get there, we’ve got to get in and get out fast before someone sees us or Mom comes back.”
Lucy nodded. She glanced at their reflection in a window as they strode past. They looked authentic, she thought. She’d always liked dressing up, much more than Sheridan or April had.
When they turned the corner, there were two people in the hallway. A janitor in scrubs and blue vinyl gloves pushed a dust mop along the baseboard with his back to them. Next to him was a wheeled cart with a bright yellow Rubbermaid garbage bag, two shelves of cleaning supplies, and a sharps disposal tube on the side. A pop-up tent cone was set up where he was mopping that read CAUTION/CUIDADO. Farther down, a woman in a business suit with her back to them strode toward a closed door with a sign on it that read: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
“Through there,” Lucy said to Sheridan.
Her sister picked up her pace. She leaned in toward Lucy and said, “We need to get to the door before it closes.”
Lucy nodded that she understood.
The woman in the business suit swiped a key card through a receptacle on the right side of the double doors and there was a soft click. Without turning around, she pushed through.
Sheridan sprinted ahead past the janitor and an empty nurses’ station, Lucy on her heels.
As the doors wheezed shut, Sheridan slid her right foot on the polished floor and wedged it between the two doors before they closed and locked. It was a smooth move, Lucy thought. Sheridan reached back for her hand before pushing through.
The woman in the business suit kept going, her heels clicking like punctuation. She swiped her key card again and vanished inside an office.
As the doors closed behind them, Lucy saw Sheridan look over her shoulder. The janitor had seen them run past him, and Lucy guessed her sister wanted to make sure he wasn’t dashing off to call security.
The doors closed tight and the lock clicked.
Sheridan said to Lucy, “Did that janitor look familiar to you?”
“I was running—I didn’t look at him.”
She shook her head. “There’s no way I could know him, is there?”
Lucy shrugged.
“I got a really bad vibe from him,” Sheridan said. “He’s thin, but athletic-looking, I thought. He’s got tattoos on his forearms and neck, but I guess everybody does these days. Did you see his eyes?”
“I told you I didn’t get a good look at him,” Lucy said.
“He’s got a deadeye stare. He had cold eyes. I got a bad feeling off him. But I’m probably wrong.”
Lucy thought Sheridan was doubting herself. She’d been wrong before, a few months ago, when she thought a fellow student was dangerous. She’d been wrong about the student and the result was tragic. Since then, no doubt, she’d not quite trusted her intuition as she once had. Lucy had never had that problem. She wished she could have gotten a better look at the janitor.
“Okay, never mind,” Sheridan said. “Let’s find Nate.”
“There’s some man who won’t let anyone in,” Lucy said. “Like a guard. I heard Mom and Dad talking about him.”
“We made it this far. We have to try.”
As she said it, a portly man in a sport jacket and tie appeared in the hallway. He was walking toward them, pulling on an overcoat. He didn’t look like a doctor or an administrator and Lucy thought: Oh no.
“Come on,” Sheridan said, sotto voce. “Act like you know where you’re going.”
Lucy fell in beside her. She hoped the man didn’t look at her too closely and notice her age. Casually, Sheridan reached up and flipped her ID badge so that the photo and name couldn’t be seen. Lucy did the same.
As the man got closer, he nodded to them. “Evening, ladies.”
Sheridan turned on a smile and said, “Dinnertime?”
“It sure is,” he said. Then he paused, looking hard at them. Especially at Sheridan, who stood with her head cocked and her mouth parted. Lucy was surprised how flirtatious and brazen Sheridan was being with him. It was a side of her sister she’d never seen before. Sheridan was drawing his attention toward her and away from Lucy, and Lucy was grateful.
While he looked deeply into Sheridan’s eyes, Lucy took a glance at his credential and saw the name Dudley.
He said to Sheridan, “I don’t suppose I could treat you to a quick bite?”
“What about my colleague?” Sheridan asked.
Dudley shot a glance at Lucy but she looked away as if embarrassed. She didn’t want him to study her face.
“I’m kidding,” Sheridan said. “I’m on duty. We’re on duty.”
“Maybe another time, then,” Dudley said. “Do you work on this floor? I haven’t seen you around.”
“We fill in wherever they need us,” Sheridan said.
“Well, I hope they need you around here,” he said.
“Maybe.”
“I’ll keep my eye out for you,” he said with a wink.
When he was gone, Sheridan said, “Creep.”
“I think your instincts are right on about that one,” Lucy said.
Sheridan tousled Lucy’s hair as they walked down the hall. “Just follow my lead, little sister.”
—
NATE’S ROOM WAS DIMLY LIT and he was the only one in it. An empty chair sat next to the bed with a paperback novel opened and turned facedown on the cushion. Probably where Dudley sat, Lucy thought.
Nate’s eyes were closed and a plastic oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth. The covers of his bed were pulled up to his chin. His face was bruised and there was a bandage on his right cheek beneath his eye. Dozens of tubes and wires snaked up through the sheets, leading to monitors. His head was tilted to the side. If it weren’t for the sounds of the machines clicking and the EKG screen that showed a heartbeat, Lucy thought he could have been dead.
He was a big man and he filled the hospital bed from end to end. Lucy had never seen him laid out like that.
“My God,” Sheridan whispered. “At least he’s still alive.”
Lucy nodded, but stayed near the door while Sheridan approached him. Lucy could hear him breathing, in and out, through the oxygen mask. It was clouded with condensation.
Her sister said, “Nate, it’s Sheridan, your apprentice. We’re all up here to see April, down the hall. Well, Dad isn’t here yet, but he will be.
“Look, you need to fight and get well. We need to fly falcons together someday, and you’ve got a lot still to teach me.”
Lucy looked down at her shoes. Her eyes stung. Her sister sounded strong and sincere.
Then she heard Sheridan gasp, and when Lucy looked up, her sister had her hands to her mouth.
“What?”
Sheridan turned. Her eyes were huge. “He winked at me.”
Lucy looked from Sheridan to Nate. He was just as still as he’d been when they’d entered the room. His head hadn’t moved a half inch.
“He winked at me,” Sheridan said again. “He opened his eyes and winked.”
Lucy didn’t respond.
“Really, he did,” Sheridan insisted. She turned back to Nate and said, “Do it again. Show my sister I’m not crazy.”
Nothing.
“Nate, come on. Please.”
After nearly a minute, Lucy said,
“Sherry, maybe you thought you saw something. I believe you thought you saw him wink. But—”
“I did,” Sheridan said.
Lucy shook her head, her palms up. “I’m not going to argue with you.”
Minutes passed. Both Sheridan and Lucy studied Nate’s face for some kind of movement, some kind of recognition from him that they were there.
Finally, Sheridan said, “We better get back.”
Lucy agreed with her.
As they walked back down the hallway together toward the closed door, Sheridan said, “Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.”
“Okay.”
“He opened his eyes for a second and he winked at me.”
“Okay.”
“Or maybe I just wanted him to so bad, I thought he did it.”
“Maybe.”
Sheridan reached out and pulled Lucy close as they walked to the storage room to change back into their clothes.
—
TIMBER CATES watched them pass by through a half-inch opening of the maintenance closet door where he’d found the cart.
He recognized the older one, although she’d been behind him in school by quite a few years. The younger one he’d never seen before, but they looked so similar they had to be sisters.
What were they doing wearing hospital scrubs? And did the older one know who he was?
He had two brothers and so had only known brothers. The Picketts had three girls. They’d all grown up together in the same county a hundred and twenty miles to the south, but except for Dallas and April, the families had never interacted in any way. He thought how strange that was, but he couldn’t really come up with how he felt about it.
