as street level—she hesitated inside the stairwell, afraid to open the door. How long was the hallway between this door and the outside parking lot? How many people around? How many chances for someone to look her way and wonder about the bruise-faced patient with the head bandage?
Cautiously, Gemma pushed the bar on the door and cracked it open, just a bit. In her sliver of sight she could see a carpeted hallway and a row of windows that looked out toward freedom. She didn’t know what she’d do when she got there. But she just wanted out of the hospital.
There was, however, no exterior door visible, just rows of floor-to-ceiling windows.
Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the hallway and walked unhurriedly to her left, keeping the windows and parking lot at her right shoulder. Surely there would be an exit soon.
The hallway angled even farther left and Gemma rounded the corner. EMERGENCY was written in bold letters above a sliding-glass interior door and beyond was a large room with chairs, and even farther, another set of glass doors which led to a portico where an ambulance sat and EMTs were standing by, waiting for a call. No way she was going there. Quickly, she turned on her heel and retraced her steps.
“Hey,” a male voice called from behind her.
Her pulse leapt. She pretended to be deaf. Maybe they didn’t mean her. Maybe—
“Are you leaving the hospital, Ms. LaPorte?” the voice asked calmly.
Gemma looked up reluctantly, gritting her teeth at the familiar tone of the detective’s voice. Of course he was still here. Of course he would be the one to discover her. She had to slide her gaze away from his probing stare and taut physique. “I don’t have a purse,” she said. “My clothes were in the room, but I don’t have a purse.”
“Did you come by car?”
“I don’t remember.” Did he think he was going to surprise her into telling him something she didn’t know?
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“Home. To Quarry.”
“By…foot?”
“Detective…Tanninger,” she said, reading his name tag. She couldn’t remember his first name. “I need to leave. Whatever this is costing, I can’t afford it. I need to find my identification. I need to go home.” Her voice quavered a bit and though she didn’t feel quite as weak as she sounded, she let him think what he wanted. And yeah, she felt bad and it was a simple matter to show it.
“You look like you could use a wheelchair.”
“I know what I look like,” she said wryly.
“Have you talked to the doctor about being released?”
She met his eyes again and didn’t change expression.
His lips twitched, but despite the lines at the corners of his eyes, Gemma didn’t trust that he possessed much of a sense of humor. She hadn’t known many people in law enforcement, but those she had—though she could not for the life of her call them up at this moment—had been notoriously lacking in humor and self-awareness. Their officiousness had left her with the vague sense that police officers were not on her side. Better to handle your own battles than call in the cavalry. Bad things lurked beneath the surface of those supposedly sent to serve and protect.
“You should probably be back in your room,” he said. “But if you want to go to administration and give over your address, name, and social, I can lead you there.”
He was afraid she intended to scam on the bill. That’s what he meant. She was outraged, yet wasn’t that what she’d planned to do? At least in the interim until she could figure out the missing pieces of her life?
Gemma didn’t want to go anywhere with Detective Tanninger. But she sure as hell didn’t want to go back to her room, either.
Yet…she sensed the weariness that was taking hold of her, a dark, descending gloom with strong tentacles. There was an urgency inside her. A need to finish some half-forgotten task, but she also had no means to get to that task and no reserve strength to make that happen. She was bound by her own lack of identification and funds, a weary, beaten body, and a sputtering memory that seemed to blink on and off like a traffic light.
“I think I’ll go back to my room,” she said tremulously.
“All right.” He led her toward the bank of elevators and punched the button for the fourth floor.
Gemma didn’t say anything more, concentrating solely on moving her quivering legs back toward her room. Will cupped her elbow with one hand and helped steady her. If he had more questions, he kept them to himself as they reached the fourth floor and he guided her into her room. Gemma sat herself heavily down on the bed and took a deep, calming breath.
“Do you feel up to a little more conversation?” the detective asked.
No, Gemma thought. All she wanted to do was lie down and gather her strength again. Actually, all she wanted was to recall how she’d come to be at the hospital. But she didn’t want to give Tanninger any reason to make herself seem more interesting. “Fire away.” She eased herself against the headboard and pulled her shoes off, dropping them to the floor.
Nurse Penny looked into the room. “What are you doing?” she asked Gemma sharply.
“Trying to escape. But I got caught.”
The nurse whipped around to glare at Tanninger, as if it were somehow his fault. She pursed her lips, said she would bring Gemma a new hospital gown, then steamed out of the room as if they had both purposely thwarted her authority.
“Don’t you have more pressing cases than a mystery patient?” Gemma asked before Tanninger could speak.
“I was waiting to speak to the EMT who saw you come in two nights ago. We haven’t connected yet.”
“You said I walked in?”
“And collapsed.”
Gemma struggled to remember but her mind was empty. More gaps. “Did you tell me where I came in?”
“To the ER. From the parking lot. I’ll know more when I talk with the EMT.”
“I want to be there when you talk to him.”
“So, you’re not planning to disappear again, then, after I leave the room?”
“No.”
“I’m not sure that’s going to work out—”
Nurse Penny hustled back inside the room and gave Tanninger a look that said vamoose. He walked out the door and Gemma got a good look at his strong back, wide shoulders, and narrow hips as he disappeared from view.
“Let me help you put this on, hon,” the nurse said, and Gemma let her undress her and tie the gown around her back. “You don’t have someone to bring you fresh clothes?” she asked, inclining her head to the T-shirt and jeans.
“It’ll be okay. I’ll just head home and change. Tomorrow.”
“Maybe
