Dance Of Death

SEVENTY-ONE

One day later, and fifty miles to the north, the sun shone dimly through the shuttered window of a small room in the intensive-care unit of a private clinic. A single patient lay under a sheet, hooked up to several large machines that beeped softly, almost comfortingly. Her eyes were closed.

A nurse came in, checked the machines, jotted down some of the vitals, and then paused to look at the patient.

"Good morning, Theresa," she said brightly.

The patient's eyes remained closed, and she did not answer. They'd removed the feeding tube, and she was out of immediate danger, but she was still one very sick woman.

"It's a beautiful morning," the nurse went on, opening the shutters and allowing a ray of sun to fall across the covers. Outside the window of the rambling Queen Anne mansion, the Hudson River sparkled amidst the winter landscape of Putnam County.

The woman's pale face lay against the pillow, her short brown hair spreading slightly across the cotton fabric.

The nurse continued to work, changing the IV bag, smoothing the covers. Finally, she leaned over the girl and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

The girl's eyes slowly opened.

The nurse paused, then took her hand. "Good morning," she said again, holding the hand lightly.

The eyes flicked to the left and right. The lips moved, but no sound came.

"Don't you try to talk just yet," the nurse said, moving to the intercom. "Everything will be all right. You've had a tough time of it, but now everything's fine."

She pressed the intercom lever and leaned toward it, speaking in a low voice.

"The patient in ICU-6 is waking up," she murmured. "Get word to Dr. Winokur."

She went and sat by the bed, taking the woman's hand again.

"Where…?"

"You're at the Feversham Clinic, Theresa dear. A few miles north of Cold Spring. It's January 31, and you've been unconscious for six days, but we've got you on the mend. Everything's just fine. You're a strong, healthy woman and you're going to get better."

The eyes widened slightly. "What…?" the weak voice managed to say.

"What happened? Never you mind about that now. You had a very close call, but it's all over and done with. You're safe here."

The figure in the bed struggled to speak, her lips moving.

"Don't try to talk just yet. Save your strength for the doctor."

"… tried to kill…" The phrase came out disconnected.

"Like I said, never you mind. You concentrate on getting better."

"…awful…"

The nurse stroked her hand kindly. "I'm sure it was, but let's not dwell on that now. Dr. Winokur will be here at any moment and he might have some questions for you. You should rest, dear."

"Tired… Tired…"

"Certainly, you are. You're very tired. But you can't go back to sleep quite yet, Theresa. Stay awake for me and the doctor. Just for now. Okay? That's a good girl."

"I'm not… Theresa."

The nurse smiled indulgently, patting her hand. "Don't worry about a thing. A little confusion on awakening is perfectly normal. While waiting for the doctor, let's look out the window. Isn't it a lovely day?"