Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
One more half hour, and just as I’m about to text Rory to check in—
Pat Lamone walks out of the room. He doesn’t look toward this end of the hallway where Brock and I are sitting. He walks the other way, toward the elevators.
He stops at the nurses’ station, stands there for a bit.
“Who is in that room?” Donny whispers to me.
“I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.”
Donny and I keep our heads down, only looking up when necessary, to see if Pat is still at the nurses’ station. Finally, we look up and he’s gone.
“It’s now or never,” Donny says.
“This is the mental health wing,” I say. “We can’t just walk into that room. Whoever is in there might freak out.”
“You got a better idea?”
I sigh. “No, I don’t.”
“We’ll go in really quick, see who it is, and leave.”
I nod. “Okay.”
We both rise, head toward room 3520.
The nurses are busy. I reach my hand out to the door and twist the knob. Donny and I enter swiftly and quietly, shutting the door behind us.
The person in the bed appears to be asleep, thank God. I place a finger over my lips, indicating to Donny to be quiet, and I slowly approach the bed.
A woman. Her face is aged, her hair silver.
If I had to guess, I’d say she’s in her late seventies, possibly early eighties. But who knows? Mental illness can affect people strangely.
Donny looks around while I pull out my phone and snap a picture of the person on the bed.
“We have to get out of here,” I say to Donny.
“Yes. We do.”
We walk toward the door, open it, and—
“What the hell do you think you’re doing in there?” A uniformed security guard stands next to the door.
“Honest mistake,” I say.
“Yes,” Donny says. He holds out his hand. “I’m Donovan Steel.”
“Do I look like I care who you are?” the guard says.
“I’m Brock Steel.” I hold out my hand as well. “From the Steel family. Our family funds this hospital.”
“And you think that gives you the right to go skulking around in people’s rooms?”
“As my cousin said”—I move my hand back down to my side, since he clearly has no intention of shaking it—“it was an honest mistake. My mother, Dr. Melanie Carmichael Steel, is a retired psychiatrist. She used to have privileges here. Our foundation is thinking about offering to expand the mental health wing of this hospital, so my cousin and I were here looking around.”
“At this hour?”
“A friend of ours is in surgery having a triple bypass,” Donny says. “My future father-in-law, actually. Since Brock and I were here, we figured why not have a look?”
Finally, the guard seems to soften. “I’m sorry to hear about your future father-in-law. Is his prognosis good?”
“For now,” Donny says.
“What exactly were you doing in a patient’s room, though?” the guard asks.
“Like I said, honest mistake,” Donny says. “We thought we heard screaming, but it must’ve been coming from somewhere else.”
“You thought you heard screaming coming from this room?”
“Yes,” I back Donny up. “But the patient in that room is asleep, so we were mistaken.”
“We’ll be going,” Donny says.
I smile. “Yes. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble. We just thought that because we were here, we could have a look around. Maybe give some information to my mother and the rest of the foundation.”
The security guard doesn’t look convinced, but he finally nods. “All right. Looks like you weren’t up to anything nefarious. Sorry to bother you, but the next time you decide to look around the hospital, let the nurses’ station know.”
“Absolutely,” Donny says. “We’re really sorry for neglecting to take that step. It’s just… We’re very worried about my future father-in-law. We weren’t thinking clearly.”
“I understand,” the guard says and turns, but then he turns back toward us. “Your future father-in-law’s name is?”
“Frank Pike,” Donny says.
“Thank you so much,” I say, holding my hand out again.
This time the guard takes it. “No harm done.”
Donny shakes his hand as well, and then we head to the elevator.
Once on the elevator, I heave out a sigh. “That was freaking close.”
“Yeah. Too close for comfort. I can’t believe you took a picture.”
I absently slide my hand over my pocket where my phone is. “Yeah, that did take some balls. But you know me. Balls of steel.”
“Ha,” Donny says, not even close to laughing.
“I’m not sure it’ll do us any good, but we know this much at least. Whoever this person is, I’d bet her name is not Mrs. Smith.”
“Probably not.”
“If Lamone is a relative of mine, this woman might be a relative as well. And maybe that’s why he’s coming after the Steel money.”
“You think? He’s trying to save his granny? Or his mother? Whoever the hell it is?”
“Maybe. Though why is he messing with Rory and Callie? They don’t have any money.”