“Turn off his oxygen tube and that should do it,” Greer said. She too looked older in her wiry gray wig. Kate had padded her slim body, then rummaged in the back of Sara’s closet for her “fat clothes,” meaning what Sara had worn when she was much heavier.
“I keep some as a reminder,” Sara had said.
The clothes were too short on Greer but that added to her camouflage as a stereotype of a cleaner.
Sara turned to her brother. “If Lea is looking for something, find out what it is.”
Randal grimaced. “I got it. You don’t have to tell me again.” His eyes twinkled. “You want me to help you to the door? Or should I get you a walker?” He held out a cane to her. It was an antique with a silver fox at its head. She did not ask where he got it.
“Help yourself!” she snapped as she took the cane. “Do your job and I’ll do mine.”
“I’m here to help if you need it,” he said sympathetically. Randal stepped away before his sister could smack him with one of her boxing punches.
Sara practiced her hesitant walk as she went to the front door. She turned to look at them. “All of you know what to do?”
“We do,” Kate said, “but Jack is going to wait for you outside the hospital. No, don’t give me any backtalk. If you get caught, he’ll know how to bail you out of jail. He’s done it many times.”
“On that happy note...” Jack said as he opened the door and they went outside.
When they got to the hospital, Sara knew she was going to have to congratulate her brother for a job well done. A man who had lots of scars and tattoos greeted Sara and Greer at a side door. He looked at Sara, bent over and leaning heavily on the cane. He seemed to fear that she might die at any moment.
Sara stood up straight, stuck the cane out like a sword, then made a few hard jabs.
The man grinned. “So you’re Randal’s sister?”
Sara bit her tongue on a snarky comeback. This man was probably one of her brother’s companions in some crime. It was better to stay on his good side. “I am,” she said.
The man gave Greer a cleaning cart to push, then went upstairs in the elevator with them. At the fourth floor, he held the door open, but he didn’t get out. “You got the room number?”
Sara nodded.
“Good luck.” Obviously, he wasn’t going with them. He probably couldn’t risk being caught.
She and Greer separated as the elevator door closed and, as Sara had predicted, no one looked at an old woman toddling about on a cane. She stepped back to let a patient on a gurney be rolled past.
Finally, she reached Alish’s room and Sara went in. Against Greer’s protests, they had agreed that Sara would have a few minutes alone with Alish.
It was a private room, an expensive one, and as Kate had noted, there was nothing personal in it. No flowers or cards, no photos. No funny stuffed animals to cheer up the sick person.
The woman was asleep. Sara set the cane on a chair, then went to the bedside and looked at her. Yes, this was an older version of the young woman she’d seen in her dreams. She was what Greer had once looked like.
Sara’s first thought was that she was one of those rare women who looked better as she aged. That often happened with men, but not with women. Age had softened the harsh features she’d had in her youth.
Alish opened her eyes. She didn’t seem in the least surprised to see an unknown woman standing there.
Sara didn’t bother with preliminaries. “Did someone hurt you?”
Alish said nothing.
But Sara could see that she understood. “You and I have a connection.”
Alish nodded.
“We’re trying to find out—” Before Sara could complete her sentence, the door opened and in came Greer with her cart. It was too early!
Greer went to the opposite side of her grandmother’s bed and stared at her, seeming to drink her in.
Sara doubted that Alish would recognize her. After all, Greer had had extensive surgery, and she was now done up like a caricature of a cleaning person. Sara started to explain who she was, but Alish raised her hand and her eyes filled with tears.
