The nurses’ station was empty when Maggie came back with two plates of chocolate cake. She had forgotten a fork for herself and instead of making another trip down to the cafeteria she hoped the nurses might have a plastic one. But no one was in sight.
As she approached Dawson’s room down the hallway she could see that the light she had left on in the room had been turned out. There was only the red-and-green glow from the monitors. Maybe she was breaking hospital rules, hanging around after lights-out.
From a few feet outside the door, she could see there was someone inside the room, bent over Dawson’s bed. A man. His broad back to the doorway. Maybe Dawson’s dad. She turned to leave them. She’d let them have their privacy. Dawson said his dad would come by after he got off work.
Then Maggie took another look. Something wasn’t right.
She squinted, trying to adjust her eyes from the bright hallway to the dark room. The man held a pillow in one hand. He was adjusting Dawson’s pillows. She started to turn away again.
Stopped again. This time she could see Dawson’s fingers gripping the man’s arm.
“Hey,” she yelled and raced through the doorway.
Both of her hands were filled with plates. The man turned and bolted right at her, head down like a football player. He shoved his elbow up, catching her in the chest. The plates dropped and shattered. Maggie fell hard against one of the monitors and set it beeping. She scrambled to her feet, automatically drawing her weapon.
“Dawson?” She punched the instrument panel above his bed until a blue light flickered on and the Call button was activated.
Dawson was sitting up, holding his neck. Coughing.
“Are you okay?” She was half out of the room, looking up and down the hallway. A door banged under the far exit sign. “Are you okay?”
His eyes were wide but he gave her a thumbs-up.
She almost knocked a nurse over as she dashed out.
“What’s going on?”
“Call the police,” she managed to yell as her hip slammed against the door latch.
She stopped in the stairwell. Let the door thump shut.
Then she listened. Had he gone up or down?
She didn’t hear any footsteps. Could he have already exited on one of the other levels? She had to be only steps behind him.
She held her breath. Tried to slow her pulse. Listened again.
Nothing. Damn!
He must have already left the stairwell. She grabbed the door handle, ready to go back. It was locked. Of course, it was locked. All the levels would be. Standard security. You could leave but not reenter. Which meant he would need to go all the way down to the exit. Probably out into the parking lot.
Which meant he was still in the stairwell. Waiting for her.