Primary Suspect. Laura Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ sideways, intending to leave him to rest, but her nursing shoes squeaked loudly against the linoleum floor. His blue eyes shot open and locked unerringly on hers.

      No sense in leaving without talking to him now. She swallowed hard and forced herself to walk forward, entering his room. “Hi, I’m sure you don’t remember me...”

      “Dana Petrie,” Mitch interrupted in a hoarse voice. “Of course I remember. How are you?” He moved to sit up, then groaned in pain. She could see that he had more than a half dozen stitches along the left side of his neck; the metal tray with discarded supplies was next to his gurney as if the doctor had left in a hurry.

      What had happened to him? The jagged wound looked reddened and angry. She couldn’t imagine what had caused the injury that had apparently brought him to the ER.

      “I’m glad you came over to talk to me, Dana,” Mitch said. “I forgot you were a nurse here.”

      “Yes, well.” She took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh. “I—uh—only stopped by to say thank you.”

      Mitch’s eyes widened. “Thank me? I...always thought you blamed me for...” He didn’t finish, as if unwilling to say her dead husband’s name out loud.

      “I don’t,” she said hastily, already regretting her decision to approach him. The last thing she wanted was to rehash the past. “You should rest. I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all.”

      “Wait,” he said, when she turned to leave. “Dana, please. I feel terrible about what happened that night.”

      “Don’t.” Her voice held a distinct edge. “I’d rather not talk about it. Just let me say thanks, okay? I hope you feel better soon.”

      “I will,” Mitch said. “But will you do me a favor?”

      She hovered near the doorway, eyeing him warily. “What?”

      “Find out who my doctor is.” Mitch eased himself up onto one elbow. “I really need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

      She wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry, but nodded. “Sure. You’re in team three, which belongs to Dr. Crowley. I’ll get him for you.”

      Before she could move, a man with a dark baseball hat pulled low over his eyes, his face covered by a black mask, roughly entered the room, brushing past her with such force he knocked her off balance. Her body smashed into the metal door frame, making her purse slide off her shoulder to bang against her hip.

      “Oomph.” Pain radiated down her arm.

      Before she knew exactly what was happening, the man rushed toward Mitch. Her eyes widened in horror when she caught a glimpse of silver near his hand.

      Was that a knife?

      She opened her mouth to scream but no sound escaped from her tight throat. Mitch reacted instinctively, grabbing the metal tray beside him and bringing it up to block the knife in the nick of time. Discarded supplies flew everywhere. The tip of the blade deflected harmlessly off the metal surface, making the man stumble.

      Mitch used the tray as a weapon, bringing it down hard on the guy’s head with a loud thunk. The man went down, sprawling inelegantly across the foot of the gurney. Mitch instantly yanked his feet out from beneath the guy’s frame, rolled off the cart and staggered upright. He moved swiftly toward Dana, latching onto her arm.

      “I need the closest way out of here,” he said in a low, harsh voice.

      She was just as anxious to get away from the man moaning in pain on the gurney. “This way.” She ducked out of the room, glancing around the ER. There were a couple of security guards gathered around a room where some patient was screaming in pain, loud enough to have muffled the noise from Mitch’s room. She directed Mitch to the stairwell located just a few feet from his room.

      The stairs only went up, because the ER was located on the street level.

      “Who was that man?” she asked, leading the way up to the second floor.

      “I don’t know,” Mitch said. “I didn’t get a good look at his face, did you?”

      “No, he was wearing a mask.” She reached the top step just as they heard the doorway crash open from below and the sounds of heavy footsteps thudding against the stairs.

      The guy was following them!

      “Hurry,” she urged, grasping Mitch’s arm. “This way.” She picked up the pace, running along a darkened hallway heading toward a stairwell on the opposite side of the building that she knew would lead them outside.

      Where were the hospital security guards? She knew they had cameras posted in dozens of locations, mostly in the main thoroughfares, not in patient rooms. Still, someone must have noticed them fleeing from a guy with a knife.

      But the only sounds echoing around them were their own footsteps and their own heavy breathing.

      If she was on speaking terms with God, she might have prayed, but the words wouldn’t form in her mind. Instead, she focused on moving as fast as possible away from the man threatening them.

      The minute they cleared the doorway of the stairwell across the hall, Mitch caught the door, making sure it closed soundlessly behind them. She understood he was trying to hide their location from the knife-wielding guy following them, so she did her best to step quietly as she headed back down to the main level of the hospital.

      Moments later, they burst through the lower level of the stairwell, into the balmy summer night. It felt good to be outside the constricting walls of the building.

      “Do you have a car here?” Mitch asked.

      “Of course. But shouldn’t we talk to the police?”

      “No. We need to get out of here.”

      She hesitated, unsure of why he was in such a hurry to leave without notifying the authorities. The adrenaline rushing through her veins ebbed away, leaving her feeling weak and shaky.

      “Okay, fine. This way,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her across the surface parking lot to the concrete structure looming before them.

      Mitch positioned himself behind her as she wove through the parked cars to the spot where she’d left her small two-door sedan.

      She dug into her purse for her keys, using the fob to unlock the vehicle. She slid behind the wheel, leaving Mitch to fold himself into the passenger seat. The area along the side of his neck was awash with fresh blood, and she realized he must have broken open his stitches.

      “You’re bleeding. We need to get you back inside,” she said, turning toward him. “You’ll need several of those sutures repaired.”

      “No time. Let’s go. Hurry!”

      With a sigh she started the engine and backed out of the parking space. As soon as she put the car in Drive and rolled forward, she saw him.

      The guy wearing the face mask was sprinting across the open parking area, heading straight toward them, his hand still gripping the knife.

      “Go, СКАЧАТЬ