New Year's Eve Kill

New Year’s Eve Kill

Hudson Taylor

New Year’s Eve Kill copyright 2015 by Hudson Taylor

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living, dead or zombie, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, downloading, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.

Goldberg & Sons publishin
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2015

Other books by Hudson Taylor

Ethel Cunningham Mysteries.

The Priest Wore One Green Sock.

Killer Workout

Death of a Christmas Tree Man.

New Year’s Eve Kill (short story)

New York Rents Can Be Murder

There’s A Bastard Born Every Minute

Your Hair Looks Like Crap!

How to look expensive in a cheap world.

Prologue

Wet ice. Ethel Cunningham hated watery snow. Especially, since she couldn’t wear high heels in the murky half frozen water. She had a hundred things to do today but for now she would battle the elements from outside so her Morkie, Ace, could go downstairs in their building’s courtyard to do his ‘business’.

   Ethel was about to wipe through the steam on her living room window but decided to draw a heart instead. Adding hunky Detective Vince Carpino’s name came to mind, but she quickly left the heart blank.

   Ace seemed to go limp every-time she dressed him for the outside weather. Her dog seemed to have a mind of his own. She put a pink beret over her wavy blonde curls and slid into a jean jumpsuit with purple studs that followed her bosom. Ethel was known for her outrageous dressing habits, and a rather bodacious backside that stands out from her small waist. If she was sitting down, people couldn’t help but notice her blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and rosy complexion.

   Down the steel steps into the courtyard of their building they went. All the buildings facing each other in the private courtyard named Clover Court shined with sparkly Christmas decorations. The private yard was decked out in its usual—some would say—tacky glory. Big candy canes led to all the building entrances. A huge Noble Fir Christmas tree stood, decorated and a little lopsided, probably due to the melting ice. Still, the decorations were a sight to behold, and at night, many neighbors stood outside in the cold, with something warm in their hands, and all marveling at the lit colors shining. They all relished their luck to have such a pretty private yard in a savage city like New York.

   Even the biggest Grinch couldn’t help but smile when they saw the decorations. The showpiece of the yard was a huge lit Santa Claus and reindeers. The outside Santa had seen better days and through the years had faded so much that it looked like he had a black eye. Still, it was warming to the soul and magical to behold. The cynic would think it kitschy.

   Black ice hid under the mushy snow on the rickety stairs as she slowly walked down each step with much caution. Before Ethel could get her balance, she fell down the stairs and passed out.

Bernice and Barney were getting ready for their Sunday afternoon martini. The mother and son had lived in Clover Court for years and had a bad reputation for talking about people rudely as if they couldn’t hear their salty comments.

   The barking of a dog outside made Bernice waddle to the window first, soon followed by her son. When she opened the window, she saw Ethel lying on the ground. Wet snow was melting from the warmth of her body. Ace barked at them and went back over to Ethel, wagging his tail. The dog barked again when they didn’t move fast enough.

   “Oh, Lord. She is probably dead drunk—the nerve, and on a Sunday!”

   “Mother, I don’t think she’s drunk, she’s bleeding.”

   “Leave it to Ethel Cunningham to ruin my weekend by getting herself hurt.”

Chapter One

When Ethel woke up, she rubbed her head and felt a gauze bandage. She felt groggy, but tried to sit up. Giving up after fatigue took over, she laid back down. After squinting her eyes a couple of times, she was able to focus. To her surprise, she wasn’t in her apartment. She was in the hospital and it was so eerily quiet, she thought it could be a dream.

   Ethel took a moment to rack her memory and wonder what had happened. She soon remembered the melting snow and falling. Fear soon rose in her like water in a tea kettle when she thought about Ace.
Is my dog ok?
She was too tired to fight and fell back asleep with memories of being wheeled down a hallway that had blinking lights.

   Opening her eyes once again, she was met with a smiling nurse. “Hello there. How are you feeling?”

   “My head is killing me. But besides that I’m OK.”

   “Don’t worry Ms. Cunningham. You sprained your leg in the fall and got yourself a nice concussion as a side dish. Now as you can see on the board there. I’m your nurse, Trish Donahue. We go by first names here. So you can call me Nurse Trish or just Trish.”

   “Nice to meet you. Do you know when I can get out of here? I’m worried about my dog—“

   “I’m going to take your blood pressure now, and then the doctor will be by soon and you can ask him any questions you have. The doctor wants you to take these pills.”

   Ethel looked at the different colored pills and took them with her paper cup of water. After the nurse left the room, Ethel was happy she had given her some personal things that one of her friends must have packed for her in a plastic bag.

   After putting down her cell phone, Ethel was happy to hear that her friend Jim, who worked for her at her coffee shop, The Bold & the Bean, and also lived in Clover Court, was taking care of Ace. She had laughed when she heard that Bernice and Barney, of all people, had called an ambulance for her.

   As Ethel sat back in her bed, she was starting to relax. With an aching head, she didn’t have a chance to run, so she decided to just deal with it. With everything that had went on within the last year, maybe this hospital stay could be the forced rest she needed.

   She almost dozed off until she realized what hospital she was in. Christmas hospital! The dreaded, run down hospital that her friend, and New York coroner, Anita worked at, as well as her handsome, but too short—for her—neighbor, Faren worked at. In some of the cases she had help solve for the police, she had gone to the creepy hospital to talk to Anita and always vowed never to return.

   Her hospital room was painted pale blue, and held two beds. The bed next to her was empty, or so she thought. The curtains were around it and she couldn’t hear any sounds coming from behind the fabric. Her bed was near a big window and she was thankful for that.
What a view!
The way the room was designed she couldn’t see the entrance to the room. It made her feel like she was alone.

   As she looked at her IV and wondered how quick she could pull it out and run, a tall Indian man with a big mole and white jacket came into her room with his nose in a file.

   “How are you today, Ms. Cunningham?”

   “Ready to jump out the window—when can I leave?”

   “As of now, you have a bad concussion. So we have to monitor you and see how things go in a day or two. I am Dr. Dutter.”

Ethel smiled, and tried not to think his last name rhymed with butter. After the doctor examined her, he was just about to leave when his phone rang. “Excuse me. He went behind her curtain to chat. The room was so quiet she could hear every word he said.

   “I told you not to call me here…because I’m working…no…do not come here. It’s going to be a long night…I said don’t come here!”

   Dr. Dutter came back over to her. “I don’t want you to overstress yourself.

   “Of course.” Ethel tried not to think about the scary aspects of the hospital.

   “And I’m sorry about the roommate situation but we are so full and short staffed. A lot of falls due to the weather, and heart attacks, due to seeing a lot of family around the holidays, I would imagine.” The doctor’s lame excuse for a joke wasn’t lost on Ethel, but she just didn’t feel like encouraging him to tell another by smiling.

   “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

   “Old Mr. Grant will probably sleep throughout the night.”

   “Old Mr. Grant?”

   Ethel looked at the ugly, yellow and blue curtain that hid the strange man from her view. She did have a roommate and it was a man. How strange that nurse Trish and now the doctor didn’t go in to see him first since he was by the door. Something was wrong here. Dr. Dutter was writing in her file as chills went up her spine. It was like all of a sudden, the air had changed in the room and it got suddenly cold. There seemed to be a low hissing coming from behind the ugly curtain.

   Did the doctor hear the odd sound or was he just pretending he didn’t?

   Ethel told herself, her mind was just playing tricks on her. The old man was passed out and not going to grab her in the night. And the strange sounds were probably some machine Mr. Grant was hooked up to. She truly hoped.

   “Shouldn’t someone check on my roommate, Mr. Grant?”

   The doctor gave Ethel a look like he smelled something foul.

   “Thanks for the concern. Maybe when you get better you can fill out an application to volunteer…Mr. Grant’s been out for days. Poor old soul. He is a very sick man.”

   Before Ethel could tell the Doctor off for being rude, his phone rang again and he said his farewells and left the room in a hurry. She knew doctors were overworked, but he seemed very nervous about something.

   Maybe she should mind her own business.

   The sun was starting to set. Ethel could see Christmas lights lighting up from her window in the fancy apartment buildings from outside.
Must be on timers
. Some apartments even had Christmas trees in all shapes, sizes, and colors.

   Ethel took forever to get out of bed, dragging her IV, and slowly walking past the closed curtains of Mr. Grant, she let out her breath only when she closed the bathroom door. She could have sworn she heard a noise behind that curtain. Almost like scratching sounds. Fear set in, but she tossed it away. She was imagining things, Ethel told herself. Or was she?

   After leaving the bathroom, Ethel paused again by the ugly curtain. A quiet hissing sound was coming from inside and it made her cringe. She had the urge to pull it open and see what Mr. Grant looked like, and find out if he was alright. She put her hand to the fabric and was ready to slide it open until she thought better of it. A nurse could check on him instead. Why embarrass the man?

   Ethel dragged her IV and went towards the hallway and stood in the doorway, peering out. The hallway was lit darkly with blinking fluorescent lights overhead. The place was eerily quiet. Her room was at the end of the hall. Looking down the hallway, she thought she could see the tip of a nurses’ station, but wasn’t sure. The place was so quiet, she almost wondered if she was dreaming the whole thing. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw a movement of some kind. The light flashed on an old woman coming down the hallway. She wore huge glasses and was in a wheelchair, and seemed to be dragging her feet out of the thing.
Creepy.

   She didn’t want to drag her IV down the hall and thought she should ask the old woman when she got closer. It was hard to see the lady in the wheelchair as she steered towards Ethel’s room door slowly. Ethel only saw flashes of the withered face as the lights blinked on and off.

   The light was out in front of Ethel’s doorway. When the old woman was under it, she couldn’t really see her face. The silence was freaking her out and she wondered if the woman was mental. Shame made her think that the woman could be too ill to speak.

   “Hello, there. My name is Ethel Cunningham.”

   Silence.

   “I think my roommate needs help. Is that the nurses’ station down there?”

   Silence.

   Finally the old woman mumbled something that made the sparse blonde hair on Ethel’s arms stand up straight. Ethel took a step back, just as the light above her door came on with a buzzing sound. The old woman has wiry grey hair and faded green eyes through her glasses. Now that she could see the old woman well-lit, Ethel let out a gasp. There was a huge hole in the old woman’s throat.

   Someone had stabbed her!

   Ethel bent down and tried to cover the woman’s gash. The old woman tried to thank Ethel by putting her hands around Ethel’s throat and strangling her. Ethel pushed the old woman away and fled down the hall with her IV dragging. She was going towards what she thought was the nurses’ station.

   “You can run, dearie, but you’ll never make it out of here alive!”

   “Screw you!” Ethel yelled back to her and tripped. The moment it took her to pick herself up the old woman was beside her.

   “They’ll cut you up here like a sushi dinner!”

   Ethel screamed and ran face first into a tall, portly man with a buzz haircut.

   “Mrs. McGraw. Are you scaring people again? Now I told you to be a good girl.”

   Ethel could see now with more light that the man was a hospital orderly.

   “What happened to her?”

    After a moment of struggle with Mrs. McGraw, the orderly got control of her wheelchair and turned her around. “She just had a laryngectomy. Come on Mrs. McGraw. It’s time for your medication.”

   “Run now blondie! Or you’ll never leave this hospital with all your body parts! This hospital is evil, evil!”