Maddy's Floor (21 page)

Spinning around, she considered the position of Felicia's bed. It was in the protected healing bubble, only damn close to the edge. Too close. Maddy would take care of that as soon as possible, as Stefan suggested.

Everything seemed clear. Then she stepped into the new wing.

The air had an odd flatness to it. As if something weird had played out on the ethers. There was no discernible odor, not that she'd been expecting one. Still…something was off. She quietly checked on both sleeping patients. Their energy was clear, calm.

Striding back toward the nurses' center, she ordered the shifting of Felicia's bed and said, "I need to head down to security and check out that the new camera feeds are working. Hold my calls for a bit, will you?"

Once at the main office, she stepped into the security room, with its wall of monitors and counter of computers. She wanted to speak with Jean Paul, the man who headed the security department. He preferred the morning shift, but he rarely left on time. Most long-term care facilities had minimal security, but with the hospital attached and the Maddy's project, it had been beefed up several years ago.

"Good morning, Dr. Maddy. Figures that you'd be in so early. I suppose you'd like to see how the new cameras are working upstairs, huh?" Jean Paul was small in stature with the charm of ten men. She liked him and his wife for the genuine people they were. That Jean Paul worked hard to keep The Haven secure and running smoothly was an added bonus.

"Yes, please. I presume they're functioning properly?"

"Of course. I always run a check on new equipment." He shrugged. "And as they were, I haven't checked since."

"I'd like to run through last night, if you don't mind."

"Sure enough." He motioned to a monitor on the wall. "I'll set up the digital feed here." He fiddled with a series of knobs and dials, punched in the date she wanted, then stopped and looked at her. "Is there one camera you'd like to see over another?"

"The one in the newly renovated section."

"Good." He made several adjustments before asking, "Any time frame in particular?"

Maddy pondered for a quick second. "If I don't have to watch in real time, then I'd like to go through the entire night." She turned to look at him. "But if it's like eight hours of sitting and watching, then no. I really would like to see around four to five am this morning."

"You can go as fast as you like." He reached forward and pointed out the controls for her. "Here is fast forward. You can slowly move forward or speed up until you reach a specific hour by watching this clock here. Then you can slow it back down or stop it altogether."

"That's perfect, thank you." Maddy pulled up an empty chair, waited until the digital feed started, then she sped it up slightly, watching as nurses went through their normal shifts. Maddy watched herself as she crossed in front of the camera lens on the way to speak with Felicia's mother, then Adam Lenning and John McNeil.

So far, all appeared normal.

She continued to watch, recognizing the hour when she'd gone home and left The Haven in the capable hands of the night shift. Hours passed by in a continuous, rarely disturbed mode. Adam got up and used the bathroom around three. She noticed how stiffly he moved. He made it back to bed without incident.

John shifted restlessly in his bed, for no apparent reason that she could see. He might not have taken a sleeping pill and that might account for his tossing and turning. She'd check when she went back upstairs. The video didn't allow much energy reading. In fact, she wasn't sure she'd be able to see much at all. The wee hours of the morning disappeared in a flash. Maddy thought she might have been wasting her time but then something odd flashed on screen.

She hit the stop button, backed up the feed and then went forward at a snail's pace. The area up by the ceiling showed a snowy fleck that hadn't been there before. She wondered if it represented Stefan's astral body. It wasn't obvious what it was. Most people wouldn't even recognize it was there unless it was pointed out. She'd been looking for it. Freezing the frame, she turned to ask Jean Paul about it, only to find he'd left the room.

She started the feed again. The snowy projection moved slightly, shifting, almost rippling as though floating on a breeze wafting through the room. Then it appeared to stop, freeze in place.

The camera didn't give a close-up of the snowy image or of the end of the bed in its view. There. She rewound the feed and bent close to the monitor. The picture was clear, except she couldn't make another item out.

What was at the foot of the bed? Something black popped up then slid back under. To Jean Paul, it would likely appear as a fault in the film or a dirt smudge, but to Maddy, it was something else entirely. That's what Stefan had seen in his vision.

She sat back. This black thread was under John McNeil's bed.

The snow flecks disappeared from one frame to the next, however, the black smudge stayed, inching out in the direction of Felicia's bed. Maddy stared in horror until it shrank back in itself, as if unable to go out further.

She rewound it once again and stared at the foot of the bed as the feed replayed the same few minutes. Checking the time, she realized this had taken place at 5:14 am this morning. Stefan had called her around half past five. She scanned the rest of the film but there wasn't much more to see. The camera couldn't capture the space under John's bed or the other side of the bed.

John was dying, from unknown causes. And his health was depreciating faster than expected. Now she just might know why.

Yet, he'd just arrived. So this black energy couldn't have come with him. She'd seen it or something similar hanging over Jansen's bed days ago. Jansen's bed
had
been partially out of the bubble due to the renovations. That's the only time he'd been out of the bubble. And that's when he'd been attacked. Therefore the energy had been here first, had a connection to Jensen and theoretically, as it went after John, the person doing this knew him as well.

What were the odds of that?

Too much conjecture. It was giving her a headache.

All she knew for sure right now was that the black energy had anchored itself to John. This binding thread had to be related to someone who knew John really well. He may have harbored this thread-connection a long time. In fact, it would feel like his energy after all this time. Not that John would have noticed. Few people did. That this energy didn't have a happy, healthy feel to it didn't mean it was evil or bad. Everyone wanted something and this energy was no different.

Now if only she knew what it was and what it wanted.

***

Sissy sat up slowly, testing her bones and her muscles. She felt like Sissy today, not an invalid. The pain had diminished slightly, but not enough to notice and not enough to count on. She frowned. Surely, her new health program should have had a stronger or at least a longer-acting effect. As much as she was delighted with her obvious progress, it also pissed her off that she wasn't getting to the end of this road faster.

Every time she seemed to make a step forward, she slipped back several steps. She had to change that, and fast. Her patience was running out. Everyone else here was dying. It might be contagious.

She giggled. Her deathbed humor brightened her spirits.

"My, aren't we in a good mood today." The nurse bustled around, wrapped the blood pressure cuff on Sissy's arm and checked her temperature at the same time. Those tasks done, the nurse patted her arm and walked to the next bed.

Twenty minutes later, breakfast was served.

Sissy played with the food. Only ate because she needed the energy. She hadn't even finished before an aide, an older woman who looked like she should have retired years ago, showed up and began laying out clothes and makeup.

She sat and complied through the woman's hurried ministrations. Sissy wondered how the aides managed to keep up this pace all day. The staff was overworked and underpaid, the cliché of today's lifestyle. Everyone raced as if the world would end before nightfall. She didn't understand it.

Still, she was in a race too – a race against death.

***

Maddy strode toward Gerard's office, her long gray tunic swishing from side to side. Endless questions streamed through her mind. The security tapes had added more of them. She had to do something. Her mind was ready to explode. Gerard was the target she'd chosen to vent some of her frustration. John was an issue – and he shouldn't be.

"He's on the phone, Dr. Maddy," Sandra said to her as she stormed to Gerard's door. "I don't think he wants to be disturbed."

She came to a dead stop and spun on her heels. Narrowing her gaze, she stared at Sandra. "Any idea how long he's going to be?"

"Not too long. He's arguing with someone again."

Maddy wrinkled her nose. Great, if he were already arguing, he'd be primed for a fight. She thought about that for a brief moment, only to realize she relished the idea. She'd been brooding over this since reading John's charts. Someone had bent the rules to get him onto her floor and in so doing, had jeopardized the project's integrity.

She smiled, showing her teeth. "No problem. I'll wait."

"Ohh. You want a piece of him too, huh? He's not having a good day." She perked up as a light on her phone console went out. "He's off. You can go in."

"Thanks." Maddy opened the door.

"I'm busy."

Maddy ignored his blustery yell.

"Too bad. I think you can find the time to see me." Maddy strode across the spacious office and took a seat in the chair facing Gerard's desk. She glared at him. "I've left several messages, so you should have expected me."

Gerard took one look at her and groaned. "Now what?"

"What kind of blackmail did John pull to make it onto my floor?" At the word blackmail, all the color disappeared from Gerard's face, making his pallor an almost perfect match to his white dress shirt. Maddy raised an eyebrow in surprise. Her off-the-cuff words had an effect that she hadn't expected. Interesting. As much as she'd said underhanded methods had been used, she hadn't really given serious thought to specifics.

"Sorry. What?" Gerard's gaze touched her face briefly before dropping down to his desk.

"I'm asking how and why John McNeil made it onto my floor?"

He glared at her, bravado written all over his face. "Maddy, you don't have ultimate control over who comes and who goes through The Haven."

She stared at him…hard. He dropped his gaze again, his fingers turning a pen over and over.

"What did you just say?" she asked softly, not sure what he was implying. The process was in place for many reasons. To say she didn't have ultimate control was true. Yet, if she didn't have the power to say who she could help and who she couldn't, why was she doing this project at all?

"Now, Maddy. Don't get upset. I didn't mean to imply that your vote isn't important. But sometimes there are extenuating circumstances..."

"Really." She crossed her legs and stared at him in disbelief. "That would make sense if we're talking about The Haven as a whole, but not for my floor. There were requirements for me starting this project, if you care to remember." Her voice rose as her anger flared. "John is more than welcome on any other floor. However, he does not fit on mine. He doesn't fit the health criteria in any way, and I'd like to know exactly why you decided to let him in."

His chin jutted out, his eyes narrowing in defiance "And I'm not going to tell you. I have to run this place based on many different factors, not just your criteria."

"Is that so?" Maddy stood up. "I guess we'll see about that. The success of this project, the extra money pouring into The Haven, is based on the results that I can produce. That is based on how I can sustain my work. There are many reasons for the exacting criteria to get into the third-floor project, as you well know. I set the standards to make the program not only a success, but so it can be sustainable. And if you're not going to honor that…" She let the threat hang in the air.

Gerard bolted upright, alarm spreading across his face. He held his hands out as if he could stop her by that very motion. "Whoa, there's no need to become hostile here, Maddy. You don't want to do anything that might affect the long-term success of The Haven."

"Like you did? You've put my entire project – a project that paid for this new wing expansion, entirely by donations of these generous people, I might add – at risk. Do you know how many offers I've had to leave here and set up elsewhere? The inducements?" She gave him a hard look. "I refused the last one because I care about what I've built here. I care about my patients here. I care about what I can do here. However, if you are going to sell beds to the highest bidders and completely ignore what I can sustain – thereby destroying everything we've created – I'll go somewhere else where I can help patients without interference."

Gerard tugged at his shirt collar before finally loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. "Dr. Chandler, by any chance?"

Watching Gerard sweat made her feel much better. About time. After what he'd done, he needed a reality check. "Dr. Chandler is very persuasive. I don't want to have to start all over again, but if you keep undermining my system and changing the criteria for acceptance, I will. If my energy is spread too thin to help my patients, the program is ruined."