media. Of course now Lester Fine had gone out to show off his pretty face, so even without the “victims” they’d still get a story.
Tim had taken the tote bag from me and was rifling through it on my bed. He took out a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, a pair of socks, shoes, and boxers. He started for his own curtained area, but Bixby put his hand up.
“You can’t change yet. We can’t release you for another couple of hours.”
Tim stared him down. “You said yourself that we’re probably okay.”
“Probably. Not definite.” Bixby took the pile of clothing. “We’ll keep this safe, and you can change later.”
“It’s cold in here,” I said.
Bixby took out the boxers and socks and handed them to Tim. He looked at me and said, “You can put something on, too, but you have to keep the johnny coat on.”
Great. But it was better than nothing.
Tim, clutching his clothing, went behind his curtain.
Bixby turned to Bitsy. “You can stay for five more minutes, but then you have to leave.”
She nodded and smiled. Bixby smiled back, as if he couldn’t help himself.
“He’s really cute,” she whispered, pulling my curtain closed.
“I know,” I whispered back. I took a pair of underwear out of the bag and slipped them on. The bra was a black lacy one, a Victoria’s Secret purchase from when I was dating Simon Chase the playboy. I raised my eyebrows at Bitsy as I held it up, and she chuckled.
“It’s for the doctor,” she said innocently.
I took off the johnny coat and put the bra on, wishing it covered up more than it did. It was one of those bras that make you look like you’re a lot more endowed than you are, because it squeezes everything together.
It was not comfortable.
I gazed longingly at the stretchy slim black T-shirt in the bag. I made an executive decision and slipped it over my head. Without debating with myself, I also put on the skinny dark jeans and the Tevas and wadded the johnny coat up and threw it in the corner.
Bitsy just stared. “You’re not supposed to change,” she admonished, but in a whisper.
“I’m getting out of here. We need to find Charlotte.”
“I don’t know where she is,” Bitsy said. “Joel and Ace and I have called all over.”
“She’s got to be somewhere, and I hope she’s not sick,” I said, peering out through the crack in the curtain. Bixby was nowhere to be seen; the nurses were busy tending to other patients.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked.
“You’re going to have to go out there and make some sort of diversion so I can slip out unnoticed.”
“Like maybe I should fall or something, make a racket, and tell them I’m going to sue?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Bitsy cocked her head in Tim’s direction. “What about him?”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Even as I said it, though, I felt a bit guilty. And a little nervous. He wouldn’t be happy once he knew I left without authorization. I tried to convince myself that I felt fine, and no one had committed me here. I was a free agent.
I could probably kiss any sort of date with Dr. Bixby good-bye.
Bitsy handed me a set of keys. “My car is in the parking garage, level three. It’s right near the elevator. You can’t miss it. I’ll meet you there.”
I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best, Bits.”
“You do know I expect a raise for all this?”
I couldn’t tell whether she was joking. I watched her go out around the center station and through the frosted doors. Within seconds, a loud thud shook the floor, and I heard a cry. I hoped she really hadn’t hurt herself.
Clutching the keys, I stepped out into the main area among the nurses who were heading for the waiting room to see what had happened. One stopped me.
“Where are you going?”
I indicated the bathroom. She nodded her approval and continued past me. I stopped in front of the bathroom door, glancing around for Dr. Bixby, but didn’t see him. I did see Tim, looking out from behind his curtain.
I gave him a little wave and a nervous smile, and just as he took a step toward me, I bounded out the frosted doors. Bitsy was on the floor, four nurses and June surrounding her. She gave me a wink as I caught her eye, and I kept walking.
The door to the parking garage was just to the left; I could see the media circus outside, Lester Fine preening and Frank DeBurra scowling.
I pushed open the door that led to the garage; the heat hit me squarely in the face. The elevator gods were with me, though, because when I pressed the button, the doors slid open immediately. I went inside, hit three, and watched the doors close in front of me.
Chapter 27
I scrunched down in the front seat of Bitsy’s MINI Cooper as well as I could. The car was made for a little person, not for someone almost six feet tall.
As far as I knew, no one had followed me.
But then I had a thought: What if they demanded Bitsy stay and be “monitored,” too? Just so they could avoid a lawsuit?
A little flaw in what we’d thought was a perfect plan.
My leg fell asleep, and when I moved it, pins and needles tickled my muscles. I wondered what time it was; Leslie had taken my watch along with my earrings. I rubbed my ear-lobes. They were naked.
Ah, brilliant idea. I shimmied around and stuck the keys in the ignition, turning it until the clock lit up like a Christmas tree.
Two o’clock.
I debated turning on some music but decided against it in case someone came by and heard it and wondered why the radio was on in a car that was apparently empty.
I counted the seconds and watched the numbers slowly change on the clock. One minute, two minutes, three minutes… This was going to get old really fast.
Footsteps outside. I peered up at the window and saw a hand reaching for the door. Every muscle got tighter.
Bitsy climbed in and gave me a grin as she put on her seat belt and turned over the engine.
“You look like origami gone bad,” she said.
“How’d it go?” I asked, ignoring her.
“Oh, I made a fuss, then got up and showed them my miraculous recovery.” She paused and looked down at me. “Dr. Bixby saw you leave.”
“How do you know?”
“He walked me to the elevator and said if you show any symptoms at all, you have to come back. He also said he’d have to alert the authorities.”
Either he was on my side or he wasn’t. He couldn’t be on the fence. That didn’t bode well. Especially since “the authorities” would undoubtedly be Frank DeBurra, who was already mad at me because I hadn’t yet answered any of his questions.
Bitsy stopped at the garage cashier and handed over a few dollars.
“I expect to get reimbursed,” she said grimly as we pulled out into the sunshine.
