I woke up for the fourth time in one day. This time I woke to the sound of laughter and female voices. It seemed like the late afternoon was a steady stream of visitors staying for fifteen to thirty minutes and usually coming in pairs. I was beginning to think it was an awfully quiet day in Kodiak if I was the entertainment. When the dinner tray arrived, everyone cleared out. I don’t blame them. It was ghastly.

The prospect of going home to see my dogs, and all the well wishes from my friends, worked at uplifting my spirits. A good night’s sleep and then I would be out of here. I was downright optimistic. I should have known the other shoe was going to drop.

Eventually a hospital worker came to remove the dinner tray. She was bubbly and friendly and I enjoyed listening to her accent. My guess was that she was Scottish but I’m no expert on the British Isles. As I was talking to her I could see a figure in the doorway – it was John Sinclair. What the hell is he doing here?

The hospital worker caught my attention again and when I looked back toward the door, John Sinclair was gone but my fear was alive and well.

There was no way that I would be able to spend the night in the hospital alone after seeing John. I tried to call Ginger but got her voice mail. I didn’t want to call Guy because if John showed up again there might be a confrontation and Guy was also under suspicion by the police for the disappearance of Aunt Cecil. I decided on Mary Margaret. I could tell from her card that she felt some guilt regarding my injury and it might make her feel better to lend a hand. Plus, I wanted to let her know it was not her fault.

After I explained seeing John in the hospital, and that I had reason to fear him, Mary Margaret quickly agreed to spend the night with me. I ordered a recliner for my guest to sleep in and it arrived just moments before Mary Margaret. She arrived with an overnight case, a handful of magazines, and some snacks.

“Tell me what you saw” Bless her for not doubting me for even a moment.

I explained that he was there one minute and gone another. I also filled her in on my previous encounters with John and Mary Margaret concluded that he was there to frighten or terrorize me. She also questioned if he could somehow be responsible for my injuries. No, that was just too far out. Or was it? We both took a few moments of silence as we contemplated how he could have been involved.

“As the person sitting next to me, tell me what you noticed” I asked my friend and I could the see the question reared her guilt.

“Well, you know they were changing out plates at the time so the movement around me didn’t seem odd. You didn’t answer a question put to you then it was only seconds after that the waiter hit the floor after tripping over you. I don’t know Brinkley, it all seemed to happen so fast. You were talking, then you weren’t, then you were injured on the floor”

The mention of the movement around us brought back some faint memories of the night. I remembered that feeling of a swoosh of air created by waiters removing and placing dishes or walking behind my head. We continued to talk about every detail and by bedtime, I had recalled much of the dark dining experience up until the incident – I guess I just needed her to help me remember.

We both had a restless night as we tried to sleep with one eye open

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