His next vision: Cheryl Beth Wilson was sitting in the chair beside his bed. She was in her usual white lab coat and green scrubs, just watching him. The small-boned features of her face were beautiful when it was watchful. It was a warm dream. No, he was awake. He was aware of a wetness at the edges of his eyes. There was so much suffering around him, and he had been so fortunate, so spared, that he couldn’t dwell on old griefs. That would be yet another sin.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” she said. “How are you sleeping?”
“Barely. At least they took the sutures out last night. I got back in the middle of the night, and one of the night nurses took them out. I felt like I was an old suit being let out.”
Cheryl Beth gave her musical laugh. “That’s good.”
“What time is it? How long have you been sitting there?” He felt oddly shy around her, pulling the sheet over his flimsy patient gown. He thought he had grown accustomed to the hospital’s relentless lack of privacy.
“It’s seven-thiry. I just wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?”
Will could already feel a monumental soreness, running from his right shoulder down into his thigh. He pushed the button to raise the head of his bed. It complied slowly with a hum and cranking sound. The movement helped set off the burning ache in his left side. It was the wages of being dumped out of his wheelchair and onto the floor, then getting into a fight with a knife-wielding scumbag. Just another day at the office.
“I can feel yesterday, believe me.”
She bit her lip and looked down. “Could I talk to you sometime today?”
“How about now?” Of course, she could talk to him. He was grateful for the company. But as he came more awake, all the events of the previous day filled his head like a flood of foul water. They needed to talk. He asked her to give him a minute to get dressed and they could get out of the stifling room.
“Can I help you with anything?”
“No,” Will said, feeling that shyness. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Want me to call one of your nurses?”
“No, they have enough to do.”
She walked out, closing the curtain around his bed. Fifteen minutes later he had gone through the morning agony, made more difficult by his body’s memory of the physical exertion of yesterday. He knew he was sweating and looking grim when he wheeled the chair out the door. They moved silently through the busy hallway. He stopped at the nurses’ station to get a cup of new pills. Then he felt her pushing him up the ramp into the main hospital. He sat back and let her do it. His Quickie moved easily and they didn’t talk.
They found a deserted spot in the huge cafeteria near a heavily decorated Christmas tree. It was a reminder that he would likely spend Christmas in neuro-rehab, in this hospital prison. For the moment, he could keep those feelings in check. He watched as Cheryl Beth brought them both bagels. She walked fast and lithely. The bagels were a relief from the daily routine of a cup of scrambled eggs, a slice of bacon, and toast. Will knew that his breakfast tray was sitting inside the big cart back in the ward, an aide wondering where he was. His orderly mind worried about it for fifteen seconds, no more.
“Detective Dodds implied that Lennie didn’t kill Dr. Lustig,” Cheryl Beth began, putting the bagel on its plate after taking a single bite. “It’s hard to get anything straight out of him. He’s so eager to arrest me…” She stopped and ran her fingers through her hair, which fell back like strands of light-brown silk against her shoulders. When she spoke again, some of her previous intensity had dialed down. “I’m sorry. I haven’t slept much, and I should leave you alone to get better. I just don’t know where else to turn.”
He watched her face redden as she spoke. “That means the murderer is still out there.” Her voice was drained of its music. “Somehow I knew it. I knew there was more to this than Crazy Lennie.”
“How did you know it?”
“My gut. I’m very intuitive.” She gave a slight smile. “My mother saw ghosts. I’m not that intuitive.”
“Lennie didn’t do it. We have other evidence.” He watched her carefully. She was pulled into herself, as if expecting a blow. He went on, “Why were you down in the basement that night?”
“She left a message at the nurses’ station, up at Seven-North, saying she was in her office and I should stop by.”
“This was when?”
“I don’t exactly recall. I’ve tried to put a timeline together, though, with the supervising nurse on that floor. I had been called in for a consult. The message came in while I was with the patient. So I went down probably around twelve-thirty.”
“Why would you do that?”
Cheryl Beth pulled back and sighed. Will knew he had made a misstep. He spoke gently.
“I’m just curious. I mean, it’s the middle of the night. That’s a very deserted part of the hospital.”
“Oh, I feel like I’ve told this story so many times. Sorry, it’s not you. I’m here at all hours, especially after dark. That’s when people hurt. It isn’t unusual to see docs here, either, especially surgeons checking on their patients.” That much was true. Will’s surgeon might routinely cruise through at one or two in the morning. It seemed like cops’ hours, with better pay.
Cheryl Beth continued, “After she took a special assignment to work on the digital project-help us get this paperwork on computers-she was working in the admin wing. At some point, she took an office in the basement.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t have been my choice. Maybe it was odd she was working so late, but she was a workaholic. I didn’t really think about it. I take shortcuts all the time. I used to, at least. And that corridor through the basement is a great way around some of the logjams in the main hallways. It just didn’t seem odd until later.”
Her bagel remained untouched. Will had eaten his quickly, appreciating the taste and texture as never before. Now he was drinking a Diet Coke, all these things precious in his hospital jail. He asked more questions. The hallway had been deserted when she got off the elevator. It was only later, when the cops had sealed off the main first-floor hallway because of the gang shooting, that traffic would pick up in the basement, the time when he had been wheeled by, only hours out of surgery. When she had first got there, only the usual bank of lights was on, leaving most of the length of the corridor in darkness. As she had walked to Dr. Lustig’s office, she did hear a metallic sound. She didn’t think much about it at the time.
“It didn’t scare you to be down there?”
“It sure does now. I hate that. I used to love being in the old parts of the hospital, thinking about the history of this place.” She lowered her head slightly. “Will, there’s something you need to know.” He waited with a neutral face. His old detective face.
“I had an affair with Dr. Lustig’s husband.” She spoke the words slowly, in a hard, low voice. Will imagined her teeth grinding at the thought. This was not a happy memory. Yet she looked at him straight on. “It had been over for a long time. For several months. It was really bad judgment on my part.”
“This is Gary Nagle?” Will smiled gently. “I know about it.”
She shook her head. “You must think I’m a really stupid person.”
“No.”
“Your friend Detective Dodds thinks I killed Christine!” Her eyes were wide with apprehension.
“I wouldn’t worry,” Will said.
“You believe me? I had nothing to do with this.”
He nodded. Still, she didn’t look reassured. For a long time she just stared into the tabletop. “I think he’s going to arrest me.”
“If he really thought you had done it, he would have executed a search warrant long before now.”
“Why can’t they catch this person then?”