The man shook his head slowly. “I’m not the only person that works this station, but we always log activity, even information requests. Nobody has visited her or asked about her. I can’t speak for the other attendants, but nobody comes up here unless they have a relative or friend in one of those rooms. Hospice gives people the creeps.”
“You aren’t kidding,” said Daniel. “All right. If you don’t mind, I’d like to check out the room first. I know it sounds crazy, but—”
“That’s fine.”
“I might glance into the other rooms from the hallway, just to be sure.”
“I don’t have a problem with that, as long as you stay out of the other rooms.”
“How many rooms are occupied?”
“About half,” Dave said.
“Last crazy question. Is the room directly in front of hers occupied?”
The man looked uncomfortable with the question.
“I know it sounds paranoid, but these people have given us hell over the past several years.”
“The woman across the hallway is asleep. Her family left about an hour ago. She sleeps soundly through the night.”
“Serbian?”
“Hispanic. And nobody has entered her room since they left.”
“Final question. Not a crazy one.”
“Your questions are fine,” said the man, looking relieved.
“Does her record say what happened? Why she was put in ICU in the first place? We didn’t get any details. A friend of my wife’s got in touch with us a few days ago. She didn’t have any information.”
“You’d have to ask the doctor that admitted her or Ms. Erak herself. Patient confidentiality. Once they come through these doors, we keep them comfortable according to the plan they have in place. I can tell you that she’s on palliative care, which means… that’s pretty much it,” he said. “Sorry.”
“I understand,” said Daniel. “Thank you.”
Daniel returned to Jessica, who looked a little less composed than when he left her. He needed to get this moving along. She was starting to slide backward.
“I’m going to take a quick look around. Make sure we don’t have any surprises. Be back in a minute. Are you good here?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Okay.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead.
The plan was simple. Walk up and down the hallway, looking into each room. He’d briefly enter Vesna’s room, checking the bathroom and any possible hiding spots. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. Once Jessica was inside the room, he’d move one of the chairs where he could watch the hallway and wait for Jessica to emerge.
He could generally guess which rooms were occupied by the lighting scheme or the obvious presence of family members. Each room contained a couch that was visible from the hallway and a comfortable-looking chair, though he suspected the rooms likely contained more furniture that could be moved closer to the bed. Room 451 had a solitary light on somewhere deep in the space, probably on a table next to Vesna’s bed. He kept going to the end of the hallway. Nothing stood out from what he could tell, and he now had a good sense of which rooms held patients and posed less of a threat. Someone would have to go through a ton of trouble to hijack an occupied room. He filed the information away for later. All of the rooms were well within his center-mass pistol-shooting capability, the majority of the rooms an easy headshot. The problem would be the time needed to make the shot if someone darted out of nearby room. He’d have to borrow Jessica’s handbag to conceal his pistol in a quickly accessible location. There was no way he could draw from the concealed holster on his right hip.
The only other thing that kind of bothered him was the service elevator located at the end of the hallway. Generally, it was an odd location for an elevator, which he suspected had been selected specifically for the hospice floor. Patients put in these rooms always left the same way. The elevator’s remote placement spared anyone resting in the lounge from an early funeral procession. From a security perspective, it represented a significant danger.
The elevator was a wild card. He and Jessica could be under remote surveillance right now, a sizable team waiting in the basement for the right moment to take the elevator to the fourth floor. Daniel would have no warning, just a sudden rush of men from the end of the hallway, which he’d meet with rapid, accurate gunfire. Once Jessica’s gun joined the fight, they could neutralize the threat and withdraw. The more he thought about it, the elevator was his only real concern at this point.
Now for room 451, just in case. He stepped lightly inside the room, finding the bathroom where he expected it. Like nearly every hotel room, it was right next to the entrance. He pushed the bathroom door open slowly, finding its hinges surprisingly quiet. A quick check confirmed it didn’t hold a hidden assailant. Backtracking out of the dark bathroom, he faced the rest of the room. Almost tiptoeing at this point, he approached the corner wall of the bathroom, which gave the bed privacy from the hallway.
Daniel peeked around the corner, observing any remaining hiding places. The room was clear. He glanced up at Vesna, expecting her to be asleep, but instead finding her eyes wide, locked onto his own. Shit. He barely recognized her. Actually, he didn’t at all. She looked moments from death. Grayish-yellow, a look beyond exhaustion. The face of someone trying to will themselves to die because they’re too physically weak to end it with their own hands.
Staring into her eyes, he felt an overwhelming compassion for the woman, despite his brief history with her. He’d met her twice, under rushed and strained circumstances, one of them overtly hostile when he had to rescue Jessica, then Nicole, from a family dinner turned violent. He’d wanted nothing to do with her family after that, which had suited her fine. She didn’t seem to want anything to do with them either.
He nodded at her, and she formed a thin smile.
“Nicole came to see you,” he whispered.
Her smile broadened for a moment, then waned, as if the simple effort of using her facial muscles was too much to bear. This was going to be hell on Jessica, but there was no going back. His words had sealed that.
When he returned to the lobby, Jessica sat on the edge of the couch, waiting. She stood and walked over to meet him.
“Did you see her?” she asked, glancing nervously toward her mother’s room.
“I did.”
“And?”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I have to do this,” said Jessica.
“The room’s clear,” he said. “As far as I can tell, the floor is clear. There’s a service elevator at the end of the hallway that makes me a little nervous. I’m going to move a chair where I can watch the entire corridor. If anything happens out here, I’ll yell ‘left’ or ‘right,’ and you’ll know which direction to scan for targets. I need your handbag to keep my pistol immediately accessible.”
She handed him the bag, her hands shaky. “I can’t believe I’m like this,” said Jessica. “I’d rather be in a knife fight.”
“A knife fight sounds wonderful right about now,” he said. “Not with you, though.”
She stifled a quick laugh.
“Take your time,” said Daniel. “Regardless of what happens inside, you close this chapter in your life by walking through that door.”
Jessica’s eyes moistened.
“Get on with it before you change your mind,” he said, and briefly touched his lips to hers.
She nodded and turned around, slowly making her way to the room. He waited until she was inside before going to work on the furniture.
“Mind if I move this chair where I can keep an eye on the hallway?” he said to the attendant.