by Dana Mentink
“Not sure,” he said. “Lila’s room is right over there.”
As they rounded the corner, there was a crash, the sound of metal hitting the tile floor. Dan sprinted ahead, and, after a second of paralysis, Angela followed. They burst into the room.
A nurse looked up, startled. She held a roll of gauze in one hand. A vase of flowers had been upended, the white roses lying in a puddle of water on the floor. The bed sheets were tousled.
“What happened?” Dan demanded.
“She freaked out.”
“Lila Brown?’
The woman nodded. “She was asleep. I needed to change her dressing. I woke her. Tried to cheer her up by showing her the flowers. She opened the card and screamed. Grabbed her clothes and ran. Moved so fast I gouged her with the scissors. What’s wrong with that girl?”
“Which way did she go?”
The nurse shrugged. “Dunno.”
Dan charged out into the hallway.
“I’ll go call security,” the nurse said as she left.
Angela was about to follow, when she spotted the tiny white envelope lying half under the bed, the little card next to it.
There was no message on the card.
Blank.
A cold knot formed inside her.
She picked up the envelope. It was empty, she thought at first.
Feeling a subtle bump through the glossy paper, she looked inside.
A snippet of dark hair, fine and silky.
Like a child’s hair, she thought.
A child.
She dropped the envelope and bolted out the door.
* * *
Dan wasn’t sure which direction Lila had headed, but he knew he had to get to her. He ran to the nearest elevator and pressed the button. The light indicated it was on the way down. Lila?
He sprinted for the stairs and raced down to the fourth floor. He was going to keep running, figuring she was headed for the ground floor exit, when he noticed the stairwell door that opened out onto the fourth floor was not completely closed; a white sock on the floor kept it from latching. Bursting through the door, which creaked open with a squeal, he caught the attention of a short, dark-haired woman.
It was Patricia Lane, a surgeon at the hospital. “Patricia?”
“Dr. Blackwater?” The woman goggled. “What are you doing? Is something wrong?”
“I’m looking for a girl who just ran out of her room. I thought maybe she came up here.”
She clicked her pen closed. “I’ve been checking the charts for the past fifteen minutes and I haven’t seen anyone running through except for you.”
He saw no sign of Lila anywhere, just the normal hustle and bustle. An older bearded man appeared at the doorway to his room. He scratched his close-cut beard.
“Can I get some food? I’m hungry.” He rubbed a sleeve under his nose.
The man looked vaguely familiar. Dr. Lane hastened to his side. “Please sit down. I’ll have the nurse bring you something right away.”
The man returned to his room, muttering to himself.
Dr. Lane smiled. “Sometimes we get a wanderer. You know what that’s like.”
“I do.”
But his mind was only on one patient. Lila Brown. He walked the length of the floor and found no sign of her. Perhaps the sock had been a ruse?
Dr. Lane was staring at him. “I told you. She didn’t come here. Don’t you believe me?”
“Of course.” He returned to the stairwell door, mulling it over. The sock was protruding through to the inside, which meant Lila had arrived on the fourth floor and exited back out to the stairs. Could it have been dropped by another visitor or patient? Not likely. Patricia Lane was a stern taskmaster. The nurses and orderlies he’d worked with at the hospital were top-notch, as well.
He walked Patricia to the door and pointed out the sock.
“Strange,” she said. “I can’t imagine how that got there.”
“I’m sure it was Lila,” Dan said. “She opened the door and dropped the sock. She must have gone back out again if you didn’t see her. Is it possible you were engrossed in your work and you missed her?”
Patricia’s lips thinned into a tight line. “I would have noticed. I’m not oblivious to what goes on in my own hospital.”
“I wouldn’t even suggest that.”
Her face was stony, eyes hard and unblinking. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“There must be another explanation,” he said. “Leave the sock there and I’ll get the police on it.”
“Fine. I’ll continue my rounds.” She turned and strode away.
Dan mentally ran through the scenario. Patricia Lane was an excellent doctor with a stellar reputation. She must have been focused on her work and not heard the stairwell door open.
It was the most likely answer. But if she’d been standing at the desk checking charts not five feet from the stairwell door, how could she not have heard it open?
But what reason could Dr. Lane have for lying?
A sudden chill crept down his spine. Careful not to disturb the sock, he headed downstairs to find Angela.
* * *
Angela emerged into the hallway, and a nurse pointed out the direction Dan had taken to the stairs. Angela hurried to the stairwell door. One of them would surely intercept Lila. She intended to ask on each floor as she went if anyone had seen the girl.
She started the plunge down the steps. Her feet echoed oddly in the space. Her chest tightened up as the walls closed in around her in an ugly cement fist.
Keep going. Don’t let the thoughts catch up with you.
Racing down, she was about to exit on the fourth floor, but she heard a murmur of voices from farther down the stairwell. She continued onto the third floor and listened. No further noise. Her imagination?
Pressing on, she found a hospital gown tossed onto the cement. It was still warm to the touch. Lila had taken a few frantic moments to change clothes.
She’s getting out of here for sure. What had scared her so badly that she’d bolt without even taking the time to dress properly? Tension coiled in her gut now like a live serpent, and she continued racing down. Almost to the second floor, she was startled when she heard the door below her open.
“Lila,” she called out. “Wait. Don’t leave.” Now she was taking the steps two at a time, clutching the railing to keep from falling.
Six steps down, a man came into view, standing at the bottom landing, just in front of the exit door.
Harry Gruber.
He smiled.
Her breath caught, heart thundering.
She squashed the surge of panic. You’re not trapped. She could run up and escape through the second-floor door. Stay calm. You’re in control. Her nerves raced as if they had not gotten the message.
“Odd us meeting again,” Gruber said.
She swallowed. Take charge of the situation. “Yes, it is, Mr. Gruber.”
If he was surprised that he’d learned her name, he didn’t show it. “Especially here.” His lips curved in disgust as he gestured. “I hate hospitals, don’t you? Only come when I don’t have any other choice. All those desperate people, hoping to be cured and wondering how they’ll pay for all the pills and procedures. Patients paying for the green fees for the fat-cat doctors. That’s why I started up my clinic.”
He wore khakis and a short-sleeved shirt neatly buttoned, plaid against a pale yellow background. “What are you doing in the stairwell?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing.”
The air in the stairwell closed in, her palms went damp, breathing shallow, the familiar sense that her body was about to spin out of control. Don’t give in. She’d decided to go back up, outrun him to the next floor
, when she saw a man step out onto the landing above her. Someone to help. She let out a gasping breath.
He looked over the railing at her, unsmiling, black eyes scanning.
“Sir...” she started, moving toward him. Something in the flat expression on his face made her pause. He was a blurred image of Harry, a relative, a brother. He rested his palms on the railing and stared at her.
Something cold slithered up her back. Cut off. No escape. She forced herself to keep breathing and speak calmly. “Is that a friend of yours?”
“My brother, Peter.”
She looked again at Peter, still as granite and just as cold.
Terror ricocheted inside her. Keep talking. Stall until Dan comes. Or another passerby. “Did you see a woman run by here?” she asked Harry.
“A woman?” He laughed. “Women run by me all the time and never even look back.” He pushed open the door and held it for her. “Were you going to exit? Allow me.”
The sunshine flooded through the door, enticing her with the promise of escape. She considered running back up to the second floor and trying to pass Peter, but the exit door was open wide, fresh air only a few feet away. Tantalizing. More than anything else, she desperately wanted to run toward freedom, away from Harry and his brother.
Keeping out of reach, she edged closer, ready to scream for help if Gruber made any move to detain her. He didn’t.
Had she imagined a threat where there wasn’t one?
Sweat dampened her brow. Paranoia? Were Harry Gruber and his brother just two innocent bystanders? Neither one had touched her or uttered so much as a single threat. Doubt flooded in.
As she passed, she noticed something that didn’t belong.
There, against the background of Harry’s neat yellow shirt, was an imprint left by two bloody fingers pressed against his chest.
SIX
Dan had just checked the third floor and entered the stairwell when he heard Angela’s scream. A full-out gallop down the steps brought him to the bottom in moments. He slammed through and found Angela bent over, sucking in deep breaths in the empty parking lot.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, heart pounding. “Are you hurt?”
She stared at him, mute with terror. No visible signs of injury. He gripped her hands. “Purse your lips like you’re blowing out a candle and breathe like that.”
She did, and the hyperventilation began to dissipate. After a few moments, she was able to straighten, still clutching his fingers in hers.
“What happened?”
He saw her throat convulse as she swallowed. “Harry Gruber and his brother were in the stairwell.” She told him about the bloody print on Harry’s shirt. “You must have passed them when you came down.”
“There was no one there. Just a hospital gown left on the steps.”
She gaped, letting go of him. “I just ran by them. They have to be there. Harry and his brother, Peter.”
“I passed no one, Angela,” he said gently.
“Are you saying I’m making this up? That I’m hallucinating or something?” The beginnings of angry tears shone in her eyes.
“Not at all,” he said calmly. “They must have returned to the second floor. Probably took the elevator down to the lobby and left.”
A stroke of calm trickled across her face. “So...you believe me?”
He searched her face for a moment, wishing he could see the tiniest flicker of confidence there. Instead he noted only a desperate need for reassurance. “Yes, I believe you. Something weird is going on at this hospital.”
A little flicker of emotion told her he’d eased her turmoil, at least for a moment. He told her about the sock.
“What is happening in this town?” Angela said.
“I don’t know. I asked a nurse to call the police.” He scanned the parking lot. “Where did Lila go?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I know why she ran. Does Lila have a child?”
“She mentioned a son once.”
“I think someone left a lock of his hair along with the flowers,” she said, face pale. “As a message.”
A tight band fastened itself around his chest. Threats to Lila’s child? Things were growing darker every moment, like a shadow gradually blotting out the sun. “We have to find her. Now. I’m going to drive the nearby streets. Can you...?” He tried for tact. “Do you want to sit down in the lobby and wait for me?”
Her chin went up, a flame kindling in her green eyes. “I can make it to your truck.”
He thought how magnificent she looked. Strong and scared, undefeated even in her terror. Strengthened by God, even if she didn’t feel it. They made it to his truck and checked out all the side streets adjacent to the hospital. No sign of Lila. By the time they made it back to the hospital, Lieutenant Torrey was already there.
He jutted his chin at them. “Talked to the nurse. Lila bolted, huh?”
Dan and Angela filled him in on the hair and the dropped sock, on Harry Gruber’s appearance in the stairwell and his bloodstained shirt.
Torrey’s eyebrows raised a notch higher with each revelation.
“So you’re accusing Gruber of what, exactly?” Torrey said.
“Not accusing him of anything. Just telling you the facts,” Dan said. “He can try and explain the bloody shirt.”
He flicked a glance over Dan’s shoulder. “I guess he can, since he’s standing right over there.”
Angela jerked around. He turned to find Harry Gruber striding over, an affable smile on his face, a khaki jacket zipped to his chest.
“Is there a problem, Max?” Gruber said.
Max. The two were tight.
Lieutenant Torrey did not return the smile. “Seems we’ve had a patient fly the coop. Ms. Gallagher says you had contact with the woman as she fled. Lila Brown. Did you and your brother encounter her in the stairwell a half hour ago?”
“Me?” He laughed. “I’ve been waiting to visit Lila. The doctor was in with her when I arrived. Always waiting in these hospitals. Doctors don’t value anyone’s time but their own.” He flicked a look at Dan. “Haven’t been near the stairwell. My brother is at the clinic. I just called him. It’s been crazy busy, but we’re going to try and squeeze in a little fishing time. There’s a perch with my name on it out there—I can feel it.” He held out his cell phone. “Call him if you’d like.”
“You’re lying,” Angela said.
A hurt expression crossed his face. “Hey, now. I don’t know how we got off on the wrong foot, since I hardly know you, but calling me a liar?”
“Take off your jacket,” Angela commanded. “There was blood on your shirt. Lila’s blood. You can’t lie about that.”
Harry frowned, flicking a glance at Torrey. “I’m just a truck driver, but I’m fairly certain I don’t have to comply. Do I?”
Torrey shifted. “Maybe not technically, but what’s it going to hurt, taking off your jacket?”
“Unless I have something to hide,” Gruber finished, eyes hard as wet stones.
“No offense intended.”
“Well, I am offended,” Gruber said. “Wouldn’t you be?”
Dan stared down at the shorter man. “Like he said, what’s it going to hurt, Mr. Gruber? Put the whole situation to rest right here.” There was a challenge in his tone, and Gruber did not miss it.
“We’ve always been colleagues, I thought. You work at my clinic, Dan, and this is as far as your loyalty goes?”
“Your clinic does good work for many people, and I am pleased to be a part of that. This is a different issue.”
“You’re not pleased,” Harry hissed. “It strokes your ego, working with the down-and-out. The brilliant surgeon walks among the lowly masses, doling out free care for which you charge exorbitant prices in your hospit
al setting. Feeds your God complex, doesn’t it?”
Dan refused the bait. “Open your jacket, unless you’ve got some reason to refuse to comply.”
“Refuse to comply,” Gruber said, shaking his head. Anger coiled in his voice. “Lofty words. I guess I never really saw you clearly before, Dr. Blackwater.”
I guess I made the same mistake, Dan thought. He’d taken Gruber at face value, a genial guy, generous, a philanthropist, a salt-of-the-earth type who loved tacos and fishing trips.
“On his shirt,” Angela insisted, “there are bloody fingerprints where Lila must have touched him. He took her, maybe abducted her.”
Harry waved a hand. “Hang on just a minute. Before I am accused of everything since the Hindenburg explosion, let me clear my name.” He yanked down the zipper of his jacket.
Angela’s expression went slack with shock.
Instead of a yellow shirt, Gruber now wore a tee with “Gruber and Gruber Trucking” emblazoned on the front.
The shirt was a blinding white, clean as a rain-washed beach.
* * *
There was no way what Angela was seeing could be true. Her reeling mind could hardly take it in. “He changed shirts.”
Gruber sighed. “Think what you want. Look, Lieutenant Torrey, I hope Lila is all right. She’s a great employee, the patients at the clinic love her and my brother, Peter, thinks she’s the bee’s knees. If she’s in trouble, I’ll help you and her any way I can, but I didn’t see her in the stairwell. And this lady—” he shot a disdainful look at Angela “—is obviously too distraught to be of much help.”
“The lock of hair,” Angela said, wishing she had taken it from Lila’s room. “In the florist’s card. That proves that someone was trying to scare Lila by threatening her son.”
Gruber arched an eyebrow. “And I suppose that’s to be laid at my doorstep, too? I’ve been nothing but kind to Lila, helping her finish dental hygiene school so she could support the kid. She’ll tell you the same thing once you find her.” He chuckled. “Besides, I really don’t have the time to be a criminal mastermind. I’ve got a trucking company to run and two grandkids to spoil.”
