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They passed a few other rooms, hearing the murmuring of nurses and patients. At the end of the corridor was an emergency exit door. There would be an alarm attached to it. That would bring orderlies running, right? And her mom was in no condition to take off at a run. They also passed a supply closet, but how long could they stay hidden before a staff member found them?
Glancing over her shoulder, she didn’t see the source of her warning, but she still felt it throbbing inside her. Then, amid the crowd, she saw a police officer talking to Dr. Andrews, who had helped them.
There was no more time. Suki pushed the wheelchair to the exit door. Immediately, the Mayan word Silanik came to her mind, unbidden. To quiet or silence something.
Suki summoned the magic of her bracelet and ring. Both started to glow. She repeated the word in her mind and passed her hand in front of their group.
“Push the door, Jane Louise,” Suki instructed.
The little girl jogged ahead and pushed on the handle. The blue strobe light didn’t activate. She stared at the bulb. Nothing happened.
Suki pushed the wheelchair out the back door.
Darkness settled over the park. It wasn’t even 6:30 p.m., and it was already pretty dark. They’d ditched the wheelchair behind the hospital and then walked down the street about a mile before finding a community park that held a playground, a baseball diamond, and a ton of tennis courts. The sign said “Cambier Park.”
There were lots of trees and, interestingly, iguanas all over the place. They sat down at an empty park bench, and Suki told Jane Louise to play on the playground for a little while. There weren’t a lot of kids but enough that the Beasley girl didn’t totally stand out. Suki then asked a stranger—a mom—if she could borrow her cell phone. She left a message for “Uncle Steve,” telling him where they were and saying they’d need a ride home before it got dark.
As the twilight vanished, the tennis court lights stayed on. Maybe a third of them were in use with players whacking at the rubber balls over and over, which gave Suki a nasty flashback to the death games. She paced. She sat down by her mom. Then paced again, wondering how long it would take for Lund to arrive. What if he didn’t show up? Would they stay all night in the park? That wouldn’t be fun. And they’d become more noticeable with every passing hour as everyone else left the park.
“Suki,” her mother said, hands on her stomach. “I need protein. Or whole grains. No sugar.”
“I don’t want to leave you all alone,” Suki said.
“You aren’t. Jane Louise will be here. It’s okay.”
Suki bit her lip. There wasn’t a warning feeling. “I’ll be quick.” She went to the playground and told Jane Louise to keep an eye on her mom, saying she’d be right back with some food. She remembered seeing a restaurant next to a cigar shop across the street. It was called Captain & Krewe, and it sat next to a vacant lot with the footings of a demolished building at the base. Suki jaywalked to cross the street and ordered food for takeout, including a cheeseburger for Jane Louise, a crab BLT for herself, some fish tacos for her mom, and three bottles of water. With some of the money that Jorge had given them, she paid in cash and then walked out and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a police car had pulled up.
The driver door opened, and a hefty officer came out. He saw her.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
“Hey,” the officer said to get her attention.
Suki swallowed and gave him a blank look. “Me?”
“Yeah. I need to talk to you.”
Could she outrun this guy? Carrying dinner? He looked out of shape, so maybe? But if she gave away their location, he could call in backup. She had to bluff her way through this.
“Okay,” Suki said, shrugging. She walked up to him and looked up, keeping her face as blank as a piece of . . . blank as a . . . her brain just wasn’t working.
“You from around here?” he asked her.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “My mom asked me to pick up dinner from Cap’n Krewe. Live over there,” she added, hefting the bag and pointing it vaguely down the street.
“Looking for a teenage girl, a woman, and a little blond girl. Seen anyone like that around?” The officer’s shoulder radio crackled, emitting some police chatter.
Suki thought about her drama teacher. Some of the lessons she’d learned about acting. Play the part. Get into the role. Sometimes, a scene went haywire, and you had to ad-lib something.
“What?” Suki asked as if she didn’t hear him.
“I’m looking for three people,” he repeated. “A woman, a teenage girl, and a little blond girl. Seen anyone like that?”
“Nope,” Suki said, shaking her head.
A car honked on the street. The police officer turned around to look at a minivan stopped in the road. Relief nearly made Suki weak. Uncle Steve was at the wheel.
“Officer!” Lund yelled. “That’s my daughter. What’s the problem?”