The Pain Nurse - страница 40

“You must feel relieved they got him,” Don said. “Ol’ Lennie. You just never know…”

“You never do.” She added, “Scared the crap out of me,” and Don laughed. It was a nice sound. She knew she should be relieved. Her body didn’t feel it. Her legs were tense and exhausted from the confrontation. She kept those words lucky to be alive at a distance, still marveling at how the patient had wrestled Lennie into submission. She had learned that Will Borders was a police detective, and he was in the hospital for a spinal cord tumor. He had saved her when she, a caregiver, should have been saving him. That was her mother’s voice, which could adapt to so many useless occasions. She shoved it aside.

She was alive and didn’t begrudge the long day that resulted from the time giving the police a statement. Still, she had to complete her new consults, check on a dozen other patients, write out new order sheets, and end the day in her office, doing paperwork. Not even Lisa was left to regale her with hospital gossip or hear about her adventure. She hadn’t gotten out until nine. Now her hand and back ached from where Lennie had knocked the cell away and roughly pushed her down. The knife had appeared so suddenly. Had it been so sudden for Christine? How could it have been that way, if she was already naked? It must have gone on much longer. He must have planned it. She thought about all the times she had seen Lennie and had dismissed him as another hospital eccentric, one more poor soul that fell through the cracks. She had been alone with him in an elevator once. She shivered inside her coat as they walked in silence. She would be okay now, she told herself, looking forward to getting home and having a drink.

They walked through several sets of automatic doors to reach the parking garage, going from the old building, through a newer wing, up and down the ramps made to allow beds and wheelchairs to transit buildings that didn’t exactly match, and finally down a long, brightly lit tube of glass that crossed the street and emptied into the parking area. It was a ten-minute fast walk and tonight she walked slower, aching. Don would just have to wait. She hated to inconvenience him but she was still grateful for his presence. If Christine’s killer really were in jail, soon she would have to give up her escorts from Don. Growing up in Corbin, she would have been terrified to be alone with a black man in a parking garage. She was sure her relatives still felt that way. Thank God I got out of there, she silently mouthed.

“Everybody must be clearing out for the holidays,” Don was saying, surveying the nearly empty floor of the garage. The concrete surface, walls, and pillars all glowed gray-orange under the halogen lights. The relative shelter against the cold provided by the crossover was gone and the garage was freezing. Their breath made foggy clouds ahead of them. Several blue emergency stations were visible, where people could call for help in emergencies. “Always makes me sad, Christmas,” Don said. “Especially for the people who are stuck here.”

The man stood framed in a stairwell, at the opposite corner of the garage. He was maybe fifty yards away. A white man, he wore black jeans, a Reds cap, a brown leather jacket. He just stood there. He hadn’t bounded up the stairs and was walking to his car. There were only about five cars left on the floor. He just stood there, watching them. Cheryl Beth felt her heart start racing.

“Don…”

“I see him.”

Her red Saturn was comfortingly close.

“Probably nothing, but I’m gonna talk to him,” Don said. “Once you’re safe and sound.”

“I can take it from here,” she said, patting his arm.

“You sure?”

She nodded. “I’ll feel better to have you between me and him anyway. He’s probably just looking for his car, but…”

“Don’t you worry, Cheryl Beth.” Don peeled off and walked toward the man. Cheryl Beth made her aching legs cross the last twenty feet to the Saturn. By habit, she already had her key out. She stepped between her car and the black Accord parked next to her.