kitchen was locked, but after a few minutes of jiggling, he was able to slide the bolt out of its compartment. It popped back with a satisfying click.
Rudker stepped inside. No cooking aromas greeted him. The house smelled stale, as if the windows hadn’t been opened in a while. Rudker held still and let his eyes adjust to the barely visible outlines in the dark kitchen. After a minute, he walked down the galley between the counter tops and into the dining area.
Where should he hide? It had to be a concealed space, yet not confined. He needed to be able to wait comfortably for as long as it took for Sula to come home, yet he had to be able to move quickly at a moment’s notice. He would only have one chance to do this right, without a struggle. The messier it went down, the more likely he would leave evidence. He had no intention of giving the cops any reason to associate him with her disappearance.
Sula woke suddenly and sat up. A bright moon lit up the outlines of the monitors and IV stands and she remembered she was in the hospital. She checked her watch: 2:07 in the morning. A woman began moaning across the way. Soon the sound of footsteps clomped in the hall, and later carts were wheeled in and out.
Sula decided it was time to go. She had slept off and on all afternoon, then slept again from nine o’clock till now. Wide awake, she stepped gently out of the bed, testing her strength. She was bruised but fine. She found her clothes on the visitor chair and dressed by the light of the moon.
Out into the hall and down past the nurses station. A tired-looking woman in blue called out, “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Can’t you wait until morning?”
“Nope.”
“You need to check out.”
Sula kept going. “I just did.”
On the first floor as she reached the reception area, Sula stopped in her tracks. She had no purse, no cell phone, no car, no money to make a call, and no money to pay a taxi. How in hell would she get home? She felt unexpectedly vulnerable.
Sula worked through it. The hospital would let her use their phone. She would call Paul for a ride. The police would find her purse and return it to her. She even had insurance for her cell phone. Everything was okay. No need for anxiety. She was fine. Tate was safe.
She asked the receptionist if there was a phone she could use and the woman pointed to one on the wall near the waiting area. Sula hesitated. Would Paul be home? Was it selfish to call him at this hour? He was a night owl and was often up late on weekends.
Paul didn’t answer. She left a message to call her at North McKenzie if he got home in the next fifteen minutes. Sula went back to the receptionist.
“Can you page Ron, the nurse who attended me?”
“He may have gone home. Unless he pulled a double, which he often does.” The young heavy-set woman made a call. She asked about Ron, then looked up.
“He’s in the ICU.”
The receptionist made another call. After ten minutes, Ron stepped off the elevator, looking as tired as everyone else on duty.
“Hey. What’s up? Are you going home?”
“I’m trying to.” Sula hated to ask, but she was desperate. “I don’t have a ride, and I don’t have any money on me for a taxi. Will you loan me ten dollars? I’ll pay you back tomorrow, I promise.”
Ron hesitated and Sula cringed. Before she could feel bad, he said, “My wallet’s in my locker. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you.” He was already walking away.
While Ron was gone, she called a taxi. She hoped ten bucks would be enough to get her home. If not, she’d tell the driver to stop when the meter hit the ten-dollar mark and walk the rest of the way.
She thanked Ron for his kindness and asked him to thank Dr. Mike for her too. Her heart felt like skipping out of the building, but her body moved slowly, limping on her left leg.
The cool fresh air jolted her senses and made her feel grateful to be alive. She’d find a job, get custody of her son, then move somewhere Rudker couldn’t find her. The Nexapra trials would continue and there was nothing she could do about it. In time, Rudker would get rich and forget about her. She had to do the same.
Rudker decided the bedroom offered the best possibility for surprise with the least amount of risk. In the living room, if things didn’t go well, she would have an opportunity to run from the house. That would be a worst- case scenario. From the bedroom, she would have a much longer run for her freedom. Rudker knew he could take her. He was quite quick on his feet, despite his size. He would simply stand behind the partially open door and strike her at the first opportunity.
Rudker practiced his moves. One quick step to the side as the door opened, then swing the weighted sock back, then a giant step forward, bringing his arm all the way over and down-whack! After a few run-throughs, the movements felt smooth and natural.
He took the duct tape from his pocket and tore off a series of strips. A short four-inch piece to go across her mouth and two twelve-inch strips for her hands and feet. The ripping sounds penetrated the silence like screams. Rudker knew no one had heard, but it unnerved him anyway. He hung the strips against the back of the bedroom door and put the roll of tape back in his pocket.
The wait was interminable. He went through every mental calming exercise he’d learned in his years of therapy-visualizing a happy place, making lists of things to do, counting backward from one hundred. It was all bullshit, every irritating task. He had gone to the therapist early in his first marriage to make Maribel happy, but of course, he’d never made Maribel happy.
His legs got tired of standing so he stretched out on Sula’s bed. Her pillow smelled of jasmine. It felt strange to be off guard, but he knew he would hear her drive up and open the front door, giving him plenty of time to reposition himself. The other didn’t like any of it.
Idiot! Reckless fool! Get up and be ready, goddamn it!
Rudker checked his watch: 2:28. He’d only been here for an hour and half. Sula most likely would not be home for another five or six hours. He pulled the stolen cell phone out of his shirt pocket hit redial.
“North McKenzie Hospital. How can I help you?”
“When is Sula Moreno leaving tomorrow? I was thinking of coming to visit, but I don’t want to miss her.” Rudker had tried to keep his voice quiet without actually whispering. Instead, he’d sounded like a pervert.
“Just a moment, I’ll check. Did you say Sula?”
“Yes. With a U.”
While he waited, he listened for sounds outside. He heard a car on nearby 24th, but otherwise, the night was quiet.
“Sir? She seems to be gone.”
“What does that mean?”
“Her doctor didn’t sign her out, but a nurse on the second floor says she left. That’s all the information I have.”
“Thanks.”
Sula had left the hospital. Rudker took his position behind the door. After a moment, he had a worrisome thought. Considering what she had just been through, she might go stay somewhere else.
Ron’s ten dollars barely covered the taxi fare, and Sula apologized to the driver for not leaving a tip. Weary but happy to see her house, she stepped out on to the sidewalk. She wished she’d left her porch light on, but she had not known at 9:40 this morning she would be gone this long. At least she had her keys.
As she approached her front door, Sula thought about the night Rudker had broken into her house and stolen Warner’s disk. A shiver ran up her spine. She had to stop thinking about him. It was over. He’d scared the hell out of her and she’d given him all the evidence. She was no longer a threat to him. He would leave her alone now, wouldn’t he? As long as she left him alone? Wasn’t that the deal?
After the custody hearing, she and Tate would move. Maybe even leave Eugene.
Sula stood for a long moment with her house key in hand. An image of Diane Warner, lifeless and colorless in the basement of the hospital, floated into her brain. She shook it off. She was catastrophizing again. She didn’t
