The Ninth Floor by Liz Schulte Page B

under
investigation.”
    I nodded. “This
hospital is so strange.”
    The deputy
cracked the slightest of smiles. “That’s St. Michael’s for you.”
    “You don’t
believe in ghosts, do you?” I wasn’t so much teasing him as genuinely curious.
I knew what I saw and heard and what had been happening to Bee, but my mind was
still grasping for a more plausible explanation.
    “Not when I’m
working. How about you, Ms. Sterling?”
    “How do you
know my name?”
    “You didn’t
answer my question.”
    “No. Yes.
Maybe. I don’t know.” The elevator opened, but I didn’t move. I stared at him. “Your
turn.”
    He put his
hand out to hold the door open. “You’re the mayor’s sister. He asked us to keep
an eye on your aunt’s store. I’ve seen you around a couple times.”
    “Ashley asked
you to check on me? Why?”
    He gave me a
withering look. “Just a shot in the dark, but maybe to make sure you’re safe?”
    I took a
couple steps to leave but turned back. “Why would I be in danger?” The deputy
didn’t say anything so I continued on in the direction of Bee’s room. The
packages that had been left for me, coupled with this, were harder to ignore.
What exactly did Ashley think was happening?
    When I finally
heard the elevator door close again, I did a covert shoulder check to make sure
the officer had actually left and then turned around and headed for the
staircase. I trotted down to the ninth floor and stood in front of the chained
double doors.
    They didn’t
match the fireproof steel doors on the other floors. They were badly dented,
wooden things that looked like they hadn’t been painted in forty years. It was
like this floor was not only closed off, it was sealed in time. The chains
strung through the handles were thick, the padlocks heavy—and in addition to
those measures, three iron bars were bolted across the doors from wall to wall.
What were they hiding in there? I pressed my palm against the door, and I could
almost feel it sigh. I had to get in. I softly drummed my fingers against the
door, trying to think of how to gain entry. Something rapped back from the
other side, mimicking my rhythm. I snatched my hand away. The tapping sound
repeated. I raced up the rest of the stairs two at a time.
    By the time I
made it to Bee’s room, I had missed Jack. I didn’t mind. For the most part it
was a relaxing day. Bee was in good spirits and nothing too peculiar happened.
When she fell asleep, I snuck out of the room and went to the waiting room to
call Ashley.
    “Have you been
leaving boxes at my door?” I asked when he answered.
    “Ryan?”
    “Yeah.”
    He was quiet
for a moment. “Someone’s left you boxes? What’s in them?”
    “So it isn’t
you?”
    “No.”
    Huh. Not
knowing who sent them was even more unsettling than receiving them. “Why do you
have the police checking on me?”
    He sighed. “We
should probably talk.”
    “We are
talking.”
    “In person.”
    “Okay, when?”
    “Can you meet
me for lunch?”
    A one-on-one
visit with Ashley wasn’t high on my priority list, but I wanted to know what he
was keeping from me. “Sure.”
    He told me to
meet him at “the club” and gave me a time. I turned around to leave and Aiden
was sitting behind me. He nodded at me.
    I forced a
smile, too creeped out by everything going on to be glad to see him.
    “You doing
okay? You look stressed,” he said.
    “Oh, you know,
just family stuff.”
    His phone rang
and he gave an apologetic grimace as he answered it. I pretended to inspect the
vending machines while listening to his side of the conversation, but he said
all of ten words that told me nothing—a lot of “Yes” and “No” and “I
understand.” Before I left, I turned back to him. “Who are you visiting here?”
    “A sick
friend.”
    I nodded and
looked at my feet. “What room?”
    He blinked. “1009.
Any other questions?”
    I shook my
head. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I left. I thought he’d just said