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Authors: Liz Schulte

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BOOK: The Ninth Floor
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“How is your
pain today?” he asked, putting the stethoscope back around his neck and
reaching behind him, never taking his eyes off of Bee.

“Worse today.”
Her voice was barely a whisper. I almost didn’t notice he was holding a
Starbucks cup in front of me.

“I will
schedule paracentesis for a little later this morning. We’ll only remove about
a liter, but it should make you more comfortable.”

I racked my
brain, trying to figure out what paracentesis was. Bee seemed to know because
she nodded before she closed her eyes. Dr. Sadler patted her hand and smiled
that dangerously charming grin at me.

“What’s
paracentesis?”

“We tap the
water in her abdomen to help relieve the pressure.”

“Why only take
a liter? Can’t you just take it all?”

He shook his
head. “She would go into shock, but we can remove enough that it will make a
difference.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to finish my rounds, but I’ll be
back. You rest, Bee.”

“Thanks for
the coffee,” I called before he opened the door. He waved over his shoulder and
left. I looked back at Bee and chewed my lip.

“Stop worrying
so much. You’ll get wrinkles,” she said without opening her eyes.

I took her
hand and sat in the chair next to her. “Rest. We’ll talk later.”

Her breathing
slowed and evened within minutes. I pulled a magazine out of my purse because I
was too nervous to focus on a book. I flipped through it, looking at the
pictures. Suddenly something cold brushed against my cheek. My head snapped up,
and my hand went to my face.

My cheek felt
like ice.


Ryyyaaannnnn

” My name was whispered from Bee’s closet. I stared at the closet, my mind
screaming that this wasn’t possible. I pinched my arm hard enough to leave a
bruise, but I didn’t snap out of it. I looked over at Bee, but she continued to
sleep.

“Hello?” I
said timidly.

“Oh, hello,
dear. How are you today?”

I jumped about
a foot in the air, my hand on my heart.

The nurse from
yesterday walked into the room. “How’s your aunt feeling today?”

I shook my
head. “It’s not a good day.”

“I’m sorry to
hear that.”

She gently
took Bee’s vital signs, barely waking her up. “What happened to Mrs. Simpson?”
I asked as the nurse was starting to leave.

“Oh, she
passed, dear.” The nurse gave me a sad look and shook her head.

“I know that,
but how did she die?” I just needed a reasonable explanation so my mind would
stop making up wild scenarios. “Bee didn’t know.”

“Ms. Simpson
wasn’t in the room when it happened.” The nurse glanced back toward the door
before taking a couple steps in my direction.

“Where was
she?”

The nurse
looked uncomfortable, but she forced a smile. “I have no idea.” And with that
she turned and walked out.

Goosebumps
covered my body as I watched her leave, knowing two things: the nurse was lying
and Aunt Bee didn’t dream that whisper.

I opened the closet
door with a slightly shaking hand, but the small space looked exactly as it had
when Dr. Sadler opened it. I thumped my knuckles against every flat surface in
the closet, looking for anything, but there was nothing. I sighed, closed the
door, and stared over at the empty bed. What on earth had happened to Mrs.
Simpson?

I went into
the hall to see what room sat against the closet wall of Bee’s room, but there
was nothing—just a hallway.

“You okay?” a
man asked as he walked by.

I looked up at
him. He was handsome, tall, fit, and he had no hair on his head except for a
line of stubble along his jaw. “I’ve seen you before.”

He smiled
slightly. “I’ve seen you around too. Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah, I’m
fine.” I wasn’t going to tell a perfect stranger that I was investigating if my
aunt’s room was haunted.

He nodded. “Well,
see you around.” And he walked down the hallway toward the waiting room.

 

*

 

They took Bee to x-ray to do the
stomach tap and left me to wait nervously in the room. I watched the closet like
a hawk, but nothing happened. I called the airline, made all the arrangements
for the dogs, and emailed Briggs. The door opened a couple minutes later, and I
hopped up, hoping they were back and everything was fine, but Blair walked in.
I waved at him and flopped back down in the chair.

“Where’s Bee?”

“They’re
draining the fluid from her stomach.”

“Cool.”

I shook my
head—must be a guy thing.

“So, you ready
for dinner tonight? You’re expected promptly at 7:30 for cocktails, followed by
dinner at 8:00,” he said with mock official-ness.

“I only got
two hours of sleep last night, and it’s been a stressful day. Maybe we should—”
I broke off as he vehemently shook his head.

“You promised,
Ryan, and you owe me. You can’t bail.”

I looked into
his earnest, hurt eyes and nodded at him. Dinner with the family was about as
exciting as walking to the gallows. But a promise was a promise. “So, little
brother, you have a girlfriend?” I asked, wanting to distract myself from
worry.

He smiled
slyly. “A couple.”

I laughed but
believed him. I was about to dive in further when the door opened. I didn’t
jump up this time. Judging by Blair’s face, it wasn’t Bee who came in. His jaw
dropped, and he stared in wonderment.

“Is this—is
Ryan here?” Vivian asked.

I pulled back
the curtain and waved at her. “What are you doing here? What happened at the
store?”

“Nothing. I’m
on lunch, so I thought I’d run some choices by you.”

“Choices?” I
asked, and Blair cleared his throat, reminding me he was there. “Oh, sorry.
Blair, this is my old school roommate and friend, Vivian. Vivian, this is my
little
brother, Blair.” I made sure to stress ‘little’ when I saw her eyes scan over
him. We would have no cougar claws in my baby brother.

“The
furniture.” She walked over in a pair of my jeans and a tight, sparkly pink
cardigan that I didn’t recognize.

“Where’d you
get the sweater?”

“I bought it
from the store. All of your tops are too …” She trailed off, looking for the
word.

“Sedate?” I
offered.

“Conservative,”
she said, crinkling her tiny nose.

She turned on
her camera and gave me four different couch options. I chose a linen-colored
one with square arms and a low back. “Is it comfortable?”

“You bet—I
tried them all.”

“Then I like
it. How much?” The amount she said made my eyes bulge. “For the whole set?”

She laughed
wickedly. “No, silly. The couch. The material was imported from—”

“I don’t care.
Don’t tell me. I have enough to worry about. I just want it done.”

“Great. They
can deliver next Tuesday. All we have to do is finish cleaning out the rooms
and paint.”

“Tuesday’s
only three days away. I don’t know if we can finish that fast. And how do you
know when they can deliver it? You haven’t even ordered it yet.”

“Wrong. I
thought that was the one you’d choose and took a chance.”

“And if I’d chosen
differently?”

Vivian smiled
and patted my arm. “I’d just call and change the order.”

“Well, I can’t
do anything tonight—dinner with the family.” I shot a look at my brother.

“I don’t have
anything going on this afternoon. I could help,” he offered, smiling at Vivian.

I shook my
head at her, but she agreed. The two of them went off, giving me yet another
thing to worry about. People were determined to give me an ulcer.

Bam!

The closet
door flew open and smashed into the wall with a thump. I started toward the
door, but it slammed closed again. I went into the hallway and walked in the
direction of the elevators, concentrating on slowing my racing heart. I couldn’t
be in that room anymore. “It’s not possible,” I whispered to myself over and
over again.

“Are you okay,
dear?” Nurse Leigh asked.

“I heard
whispering earlier today—someone or something saying my name—and the closet
door just slammed opened then shut all by itself.” I watched her, waiting for
that humoring grin people give when they think you’re nuts, but she frowned.

“You know
these old buildings,” she said and turned away from me, walking quickly down
the hall.

I followed
her, determined she knew more than she was telling me. I wanted to be a
reporter for crying out loud. Surely I could get to the bottom of this. “Leigh.”
I hurried around her, cutting her off. “I think you know more than you’re
telling me. Is my aunt’s room haunted?”

She stepped in
close to me, fear filling her eyes. “The whole hospital is, dear, but for
Heaven’s sake, stop talking about it.”

I could hardly
comprehend what she was saying, what she was confirming. “Should I move her?”

“I would,” she
said before rushing around me and darting into another room.

Dr. Sadler
came down the hall, pushing a much happier Bee. She waved at me, and I headed
their way. We helped Bee back into bed, and Dr. Sadler assured me everything
went really well. He started to leave, but I caught him at the door.

“Do you have a
few minutes?”

He grimaced
and shook his head. “I really don’t.”

“Are you free
tonight?”

He raised an
eyebrow and a smile danced on his lips. “I can be.”

I quickly
explained, not wanting to get his hopes up. “I’m supposed to have dinner at my
parents’ house, but if you came, we could talk. I have some questions.”

“Huh.” He
nodded slowly and glanced at his watch again. “Okay, sounds nice. What time?”

“Pick me up
here at 7:00?”

“It’s a date.”

As he walked
away, I muttered to myself, “It’s an interview. Just an interview.”

I tried to
call Blair, but his phone went directly to voicemail. I certainly wasn’t
calling my mother, so I guessed Dr. Sadler would just be a surprise. Mom loved
those.

 

Chapter 7

 

Driving down the winding drive,
the headlights making the trees on either side glow, I began to doubt the
wisdom of my impromptu plan. Yes, it was an opportunity to scare off Dr. Sadler
and to find out what the nurse wasn’t saying, but ugh. Just the sight of the
palatial house made me want to throw up. No crime I’d ever committed deserved a
punishment as severe as this. I couldn’t believe Blair had talked me into
dinner.

“You all right
over there?” Jack asked.

I swallowed
the fear and looked over at him. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars if you turn
the car around now.” My voice came out huskier than normal.

His laugh
filled the car and tried to make me feel better, but I was having none of it. “You
think you want to turn around? I’m the one meeting your family on our second
date.”

“This isn’t a
date. You’re my human shield. And the diner wasn’t a date either.”

“They can’t be
that bad. They raised you—and Bee’s one of them. I’ve never met a nicer woman.”

I shook my
head. He had no idea what he was in for. He parked the car and turned to look
fully at me. “So what do I need to know?”

“What do you
mean?”

“This is
normally where you tell me I shouldn’t bring up pickles because Great Uncle
Alfred on your mother’s side was an alcoholic and always ate pickles when he
drank so it makes your mother think of him. You know—the idiosyncrasies of your
family.”

I finally
smiled. “My whole family is one big idiosyncrasy. Talk about whatever you want.”

He frowned. “Are
you deliberately trying to be unhelpful?”

“Seriously, I
don’t know because I never brought anyone home to meet them. I haven’t been
back since I graduated
high school
.” I bit my lip and wished I had
survival advice to give—or in my case, use. “Best I can offer is watch your
back. Underneath the perfected manners and gilded smiles are people who would
rather step on you than talk to you.”

Jack’s eyes
strayed over to the house for a moment then moved back to mine. “If you haven’t
seen them since you were eighteen, chances are they’ve changed and you’ve
probably changed as well. Let’s keep an open mind.”

“I guess we’re
gonna find out.” I opened the door and headed for the house. Before I could
knock, the door swung open, and Blair greeted me with a big hug. A tormented
looking maid stood behind him, wringing her hands like she didn’t know what to
do since he answered the door.

“I honestly
can’t believe you came.” Blair kept his arm flung around my shoulders like I
might try to bolt, which had crossed my mind.

“That makes
two of us,” I said under my breath. “Blair, this is Aunt Bee’s doctor, Jack
Sadler. Jack, my little brother, Blair.”

The grin fell
off Blair’s face. He took Jack’s extended hand but narrowed his eyes. “We just
got Ryan back. If you do anything to make her leave, you’ll have me to deal
with.”

I stared at
Blair in shock. What the hell—

Blair’s
laughter boomed, and he shook Jack’s hand vigorously. “You should see the look
on your face. Priceless. I’m only teasing, man. Come in, welcome. I’m sure Ryan’s
told you nothing about us.”

Jack laughed
too, but it sounded forced. Blair released his hand and headed toward the blue
parlor, if I remembered correctly. Jack put his hand on my back, still looking
much more relaxed than he had any right to be. My heart pounded as I slowly
trailed behind him. Before we went in I whispered, “I’m sorry about that—and
about the rest of tonight. Thank you for coming with me.”

Jack gave me a
“you owe me one” look and we walked through the French doors into my own
personal hell. Blair settled in a wingback chair, Ashley and the person I
assumed was his wife sat on the couch, my father stood staring out the window,
and my mother was perched in a laughably throne-like chair.

BOOK: The Ninth Floor
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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