The long north hall leading to Layla’s office was even darker than the gallery. The lights were off, which was odd. Someone from the staff always worked late when classes were held, but both Karalee’s and Marky’s offices were dark. I had to feel my way along the wall as I walked.
I thought about Ned, who ran and maintained the printing press. He never seemed to leave and often closed up on the nights when classes were in session. Did he live in one of the dark rooms down the hall? Maybe it was the absence of light that made me nervous, but I couldn’t help thinking that Ned was one of those guys you heard about on the news. He was quiet and kept his yard clean. Who knew he’d stored the bodies of six ex-wives in his freezer? You could never be sure about guys like Ned.
That wasn’t fair. Ned was a nice guy. It was just too dark in here and my thoughts were turning morbid.
As I got closer to Layla’s office, I could make out a thin line of light under her closed door. I hoped that meant she was still working in there. Maybe she didn’t realize the hall lights were off.
“Layla?” I called.
There was no answer. Perhaps she’d already gone home. I took one more step and nearly tumbled over something on the floor.
I flailed my arms out to balance myself, then found the wall and leaned against it. “Damn. Who leaves stuff in the middle of the hall?”
I didn’t know what it was, but it was something substantial. A bundle of laundry, maybe? I reached down to try to move it and heard a groan.
It wasn’t a bundle of anything. It was a body.
Chapter 3
“Oh, my God.” I grabbed my phone from my pocket and dialed 911. When the dispatcher answered, I cried, “Somebody’s been hurt or—or . . .”
They’re dead. I didn’t say it out loud. I’d heard a groan. They had to be alive.
“I need your location, ma’am,” the woman said.
I gave her the information.
“Are they breathing?” she asked.
“So far. I’ll check to make sure.” Duh, good idea. It was still so dark, I could barely see my own hands in front of my face, but my eyes were beginning to adjust. I hunched down and felt an arm, covered by a soft wool sweater, indicating it was probably a woman. Moving my hand up her arm, I felt her shoulder, then her neck. There was a weak pulse. She was still breathing.
“She’s alive, but very weak,” I said. “Hurry, please.”
“We have a squad car in the area, ma’am,” the dispatcher said. “Please don’t panic. They’re less than two minutes away.”
“I’m not panicking,” I said, standing. “I just can’t see anything. Are you sending an ambulance, too?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll stay on the line until the police arrive.”
“Thanks.”
The door to another office opened suddenly. Naomi peered into the hall. “What’s going on out here?”
A sliver of light from her desk lamp cast her in shadow and did nothing to light up the situation in the hall.
“What are you doing in there?” I asked.
“I’m trying to work,” she said, her tone petulant.
“Really sorry to bother you, but somebody passed out in the hall.” Hey, I could be cranky, too. She wasn’t the only one whose peace and quiet had been disturbed. “Can you turn on some more lights? I can’t see a thing.”
Naomi didn’t move, just stared at the body. “What happened?”
“How should I know? Turn on some lights. This woman fainted or something.” I was getting crabbier by the minute. I hated stumbling over bodies.
“Oh, my God.” Naomi fumbled for the light switch on the wall outside her office door, but nothing happened. “Sorry, I guess the hall light’s burned out. I’ll have to get it fixed.”
She flipped her office light on and opened the door all the way, and the hall was illuminated. She tried to open Layla’s door, but it was locked. She skirted the body and tried Karalee’s office. It was unlocked so she shoved the door open and turned on the light.
“How’s that?”
“Much better.” As I said it, I could hear a siren wailing in the distance. “Police should be here any second now.”
“Is she breathing?” Naomi asked, still staring at the body.
“Barely,” I said.
Naomi wrung her hands. “It’s a good thing you found her. You probably saved her life.”
“I just happened to come along,” I said modestly, clasping my hands together. They felt tacky. I held them up to the light, then wished I hadn’t.
Blood. My stomach twirled and my head started to spin. I really hated blood. “Idiot,” I muttered. I couldn’t help it, though. The sight of blood made me sick. I took deep breaths and stared at the woman on the floor. Since she was bleeding, she must’ve hit her head on something. Something sharp or hard enough to draw blood.
As I stared more closely at the woman, my insides took an even more unwelcome dip. That fuzzy black angora sweater looked alarmingly familiar.
“Oh, no.” I inched back until my butt hit the wall.
“What’s wrong?” Naomi demanded.