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May felt nervous as she parked, climbed out, and headed up the stairs. She walked into the hospital, breathing the scents of polish and disinfectant as well as the aroma of breakfast that lingered in the air.
"I'm here to interview Chloe Terry," she told the receptionist.
The receptionist checked her list.
"Visiting hours are only from seven to eight," she told May, whose pulse immediately accelerated.
"I got special permission from the doctor," she said, hoping nothing had gone wrong.
Frowning, the receptionist picked up the phone and spoke into it briefly while May fidgeted.
"Okay," she said. "You do have special permission. Chloe's room is on the second floor, ward nine. But the Doc said you can only speak to her if she's awake. She had a troubled night, and they actually sedated her in the early hours, so she could get some rest. If she's still asleep, you will need to come back tomorrow."
"Understood, and thank you," May said, feeling anxiety clench inside her at this potential delay.
She hurried to the stairs and rushed up to the second floor, heading along the corridor through the early morning bustle of the hospital. She quickly ducked past an orderly wheeling a cart of used linen and someone else removing breakfast plates.
There was ward nine. And there, to her relief, was Deputy Banks from Fairshore, waiting outside the door with the ward nurse. The officer looked tired but alert.
"Morning, Deputy Moore," he said. "Everything looks fine, and there was no trouble last night. I'm being relieved in an hour, and we'll keep a guard here until she's discharged—or the case is solved."
Well, that was a relief. But what about the all-important questioning? May turned to the ward nurse.
"Is Chloe awake?" she asked. "The doctor said I could speak to her if she is."
The nurse shook her head. "She's still sleeping deeply."
"There's no way we could even speak quickly?" May pleaded. "This case is so critical, and she might know something that could help."
The nurse shrugged sympathetically.
"I understand, but for patient welfare, we don't dare disobey doctor's orders. You'll need to come back later."
May felt disappointment curdle inside her.
"No problem," she said. She had a feeling that this delay was going to be more than just an inconvenience. May had a strong premonition that it was going to result in disaster. This criminal was still at large, still grabbing women by violent means. They would be too far behind to stop him from striking again. And the only person that could help them was here, behind this closed door.
But, as she turned away, she heard thepingof a bell sounding from inside the ward.
"Wait!" the nurse called out to her. "Just a sec. Let me check if that was her."
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
May turned and hurried back to the ward door, feeling tense and expectant as the nurse went inside. She exchanged a glance with Deputy Banks, who looked as anxious as she felt inside. Every one of them knew the importance of the witness testimony from this escaped victim.
And then, the nurse came out.
"She's awake. You can speak to her. But don't take too long, and if she gets upset, you'll need to stop. I’ll wait by the door.”
"Understood, and thank you," May said, feeling lightheaded with relief. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the two-bed ward.
The curtains on the far bed were drawn, and May guessed that patient was still asleep. But the curtains nearest her were open, and Chloe was sitting up, propped on pillows, looking pale and drained but a thousand times better than she had looked last night when she'd collapsed at the police department's door.
"I'm so glad you're looking better," May said. "I'm Deputy Moore. I was at the police department yesterday evening."
Chloe's eyes widened.
"I remember that," she said in a soft, hoarse voice. “I remember you meeting me. I was so glad to be there. To have gotten away. He was going to kill me. That’s what he promised."
