Lucy continued on down the hallway, past the nurses’ station, trying to think of a way she could get into Chef Larry’s room. Setting off a fire alarm came to mind, but that was terribly irresponsible, and if she got caught, she’d be in big trouble. Back home she’d try to chat up the cop and convince him she was Chef Larry’s sister or something, but she knew her mastery of French wasn’t up to the task. She was about to give up and go home when she saw a cleaner coming out of a closet, wearing a smock and pushing a mop.

The closet wasn’t locked, so she popped in and discovered a row of hooks holding smocks just like the one the cleaner was wearing. She slipped one on right over her coat. It made her look rather chunky, but she thought that made her disguise even more realistic. Her shoulder bag was a bit of a problem, but she didn’t dare leave it in the closet, in case she needed to make a quick exit. She tried shifting it around so it hung in front of her waist, and decided it made her look pregnant. A menopause baby, she thought with a grim smile.

There was also a wide array of cleaning tools and products to choose from. She grabbed a spray bottle of cleanser and a rag. Back in the hallway, she squirted some cleanser on a framed Impressionist print that was intended to brighten up the place, keeping an eye on the cop. They were the only two people in that stretch of hallway, at least for the moment. Then, unbelievably, the cop stood up and stretched, then ambled off in the direction of the lavatories.

In the blink of an eye she popped into Chef Larry’s room, where she was disappointed to find he was deeply unconscious, hooked up to a lot of tubes and machinery with blinking lights. She hadn’t expected this. She’d hoped he would be recovering nicely and would be able to talk. It was awful, absolutely tragic, to find a young man in this condition, but, she reminded herself, she didn’t have time for sympathy. She opened the locker, hoping to find his clothing, but it was empty. Of course, his clothing was in a crime lab somewhere. What about the drawer of his nightstand? Also empty. Her hands were shaking, and her heart was pounding. She had to get out of there before she was discovered. She’d been foolish to take such a risk, she thought, giving him a good-bye glance as she turned to leave. Much to her surprise, his eyes were wide open.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I came to see you,” she said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “There’s a cop outside, so I borrowed this cleaning smock.”

“They say I’m going to be okay,” he said.