DUFFY SLUMPED AGAINST THE wall, her shoulders shaking as Smith stood up and bent to retrieve her overturned IV pole.
“There…isn’t anything there,” she said dully, her eyes on the wide black mouth waiting to swallow her up. “I…I would have stepped into…air. Nothing but air!”
“And fallen five floors to the basement,” Smith agreed grimly. His voice was full of anger and contempt as he added, “This is Rourke’s fault. I told him it was the second elevator that wasn’t working, not the first. He put the sign on the wrong one!” Shaking the thick thatch of dark, curly hair, he said, “Someone could have been killed.” He moved his gaze from the black gaping hole to Duffy. “You could have been killed,” he said emphatically.
As he moved to set her IV pole upright and then help her to her feet, he muttered, “Wait’ll I get my hands on that Dylan! I’ll have his head on a platter. His supervisor’s going to hear about this, too.”
Duffy couldn’t tear her eyes away from the empty elevator shaft. Empty. No cage there to carry her safely down to the first floor. Nothing there but a deep, hungry emptiness. For one horrible second, she could actually feel herself falling…falling…into the shadowy nothingness. A sickening, terrifying sense of helpless horror overwhelmed her.
Duffy stood up. If it hadn’t been for Smith’s firm grip on her elbow, her knees would have buckled and sent her to the floor in a slow, buttery slide.
A nasty little voice in her mind chimed repeatedly, You almost died…you almost died…you almost died.…
“What on earth is going on here?” a voice demanded. The night nurse bustled down the hall toward them, indignation written all over her middle-aged face. “What are you two doing out here? Lewis, you’re not on the schedule tonight. And Quinn, what are you doing out of bed?”
Shock and fear had stolen Duffy’s voice from her. She was unable to speak.
Smith quickly explained what had happened as briefly as possible. “I came back to get my paycheck,” he added. “It wasn’t ready when I left earlier. And I saw Duffy about to step into the elevator, the one I knew was out of commission.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” the nurse said in an exasperated voice, “that elevator was supposed to be fixed by now.” She took Duffy’s arm. “You take care of that sign,” she ordered Smith briskly. “I’ll see that Quinn gets back to her room.”
Duffy found her voice. “Smith,” she said quietly as he moved away, ‘thanks. Thanks for—?
“Forget it,” he interrupted. “No big deal. Go back to bed. And,” he added harshly, “maybe you’d be better off staying there. Safer that way.”
Nodding, Duffy allowed herself to be led back to her room.
“You’ve got no business being out of bed,” the nurse scolded as Duffy crawled into bed. “You look flushed. I’m going to take your temperature right now. Then you’ll have your sleeping pill so you can forget all about this nasty business.”
Duffy didn’t see how that was possible. How could she forget that she had almost plunged five floors to her death?
I came to this horrible place to get well, she thought as the thermometer was thrust under her tongue, and instead, I almost died.
How could Dylan have made such a terrible mistake?
She lay curled up in bed, trembling violently, until the sleeping pill began to take effect. Her body relaxed, involuntarily. Her arms and legs turned to warm water. But her mind continued to shudder with fear, until that, too, fell under the spell of the drug.
She was drifting off into a pleasant cotton-candy fuzziness when Smith came quietly into the darkened room and stood beside her bed.
Leaning down, he asked softly, “You okay?”
“If you get caught in here,” she said drowsily, “Attila the Nurse will have you shot. She just left, but she could pop back in at any time, probably with a whip in her hand or a set of thumbscrews.”
Smith didn’t smile. “They gave you a shot? Or a pill? Must have. I expected to find you in hysterics. Medication is a wonderful thing.” He awkwardly patted her head, said, “Sleep well,” and turned to leave.
But there was something Duffy needed to ask him, if she could only grab the thought dancing around crazily in her mind and turn it into coherent words. The question she needed to ask Smith was…was…No, the sleeping pill was getting in her way, making it impossible to form the question into words and send it on its way to Smith.
It would have to wait until tomorrow. She hoped it wasn’t important.
But she had a strong, uneasy feeling that it was.
In spite of the uneasiness, she was asleep before Smith reached the door.
When she awoke Sunday morning, having slept soundly through the night, the question had crystallized in her mind. It was so clear and so urgent, she asked the nurse who brought her breakfast tray if Smith was on duty.
The nurse, a young, pretty student, grinned. “You, too? All the other female patients are ga-ga over Lewis. I don’t see him as your type, but—?
“It’s not like that,” Duffy protested, annoyed. “I just need to ask him something.”
“Right. Like what he’s doing next Saturday night, just in case you’re sprung by then?”
Duffy glared daggers at the girl. “Will you just call him for me, please? Tell him I need to see him, right away.”
Although the student nurse was grinning when she left the room, she must have passed on the message, because five minutes later, Smith hurried into the room.
“Well, you look better. Your eyes are still sort of glazed with terror, though. What’s up?”
“Smith,” Duffy said earnestly, “when exactly did you tell Dylan to put the out-of-order sign on the elevator?”
Smith thought for a minute. “About four o’clock. Right after that friend of yours, Jane, had to struggle up four flights of stairs. I was afraid someone would have a heart attack before maintenance got the cage fixed. Why?”
“Well, think about it,” Duffy said impatiently. “This place was full of visitors all afternoon and all evening. People were going up and down like yoyos. If Dylan’s sign was hanging on the wrong elevator all that time, how come no one but me came so close to taking a dive into an empty elevator shaft?” She shuddered just thinking about it.
Smith moved closer and sat on the edge of her bed. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Unless…” Duffy began, “unless Dylan did put the sign on the right elevator and somebody moved it just before I got there.”
Smith looked skeptical. “Why would someone move it?”
“How should I know? But they must have.”
He thought for a minute and then said, “I just thought of something. Day before yesterday, the other elevator was screwed up. It was fixed right away. I guess it’s possible that someone who came in late today wouldn’t have expected the repairs to be made so fast. And they wouldn’t have known the second one had broken down. So, when they came in today and saw that sign, they would have thought it was a mistake. And they would have moved the sign…back to the elevator they thought was still broken.”
“Someone who had the day off wouldn’t have known the broken-down elevator had been repaired?” Duffy echoed. “Don’t you people tell each other things?”
“I’m talking about when the guy came in, first thing, before he’d talked to anyone. Some of the crew comes on at nine P.M. I know Elmer Dougherty came in at eight last night, just before you left your room. He could have switched the sign, thinking someone had put it on the wrong cage.”
“I guess that makes sense. Can you find out for sure?”
Smith nodded. “I can find out who, besides Elmer, had Thursday off. I’ll ask around, see who else came in late yesterday, find out if they switched the sign.” He grimaced. “I’m glad I didn’t read the riot act to Rourke. I don’t think I want him mad at me. He works out regularly. My idea of exercise is draping myself over the wheel of a sportscar.” He stood up. “Take it easy today, okay? You still look a little shaky to me.”
Glad that the mystery had been solved, Duffy watched him go. He was thinner than Dylan. But he was taller, and she liked the way he moved, so easy and careless, as if he wasn’t afraid of anything.
But then, he hadn’t almost fallen into a deep, black hole last night, she thought with some resentment. He could afford to walk as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Kit had walked the same way. He wasn’t afraid of anything.
She, on the other hand, would probably start shaking violently from now on every time she went near an elevator.
Shuddering, Duffy closed her eyes.