The young woman on the pavement took his arm and snuggled against him as they disappeared down the street without a backward glance from either of them.
Chase turned at the sound of a crash. Laci lay on the floor in a dead faint, surrounded by the scattered boxes she’d been juggling.
After a split second of shock, Chase rushed to her inert form. She knelt and shouted Laci’s name a few times. Anna rushed in from the kitchen. Vi stood frozen for a few minutes, then grabbed the showcase for support.
“What was that noise?” asked Anna. “It sounded like something hit the—” She spied the two of them on the floor, one unconscious, and whipped out her cell phone. Chase breathed a sigh of relief that Anna was taking charge. Now everything would be all right. What else could go wrong that day?
Not more than two minutes passed before an ambulance pulled up, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Laci’s eyelids fluttered and she turned her head. When she tried to struggle up, Chase put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t get up, Laci. Wait until the EMTs check you out.”
The uniformed medics rushed into the shop and started working on Laci with the tools of their trade. One pumped the blood pressure cuff while another inspected her eyes, skin, and heartbeat.
Within a few minutes they decided to transport her to the hospital for observation. “Her blood pressure isn’t what it should be,” said the crisp blonde woman with the cuff. “She may be dehydrated.” Her partner, the guy with the stethoscope looped around his neck, brought in a gurney and they carefully lifted Laci onto it. Chase and Anna followed them to the rear of the ambulance. Anna thought to ask which hospital she was being taken to. It made sense that she was being transported to the nearby University of Minnesota Medical Center.
“I’ll drive,” said Anna. “Come through the shop.”
Chase started to follow Anna inside so she could go to the parking lot where Anna’s car was, but a hard hand clamped her forearm.
“Where did they say she was going?” It was Ted.
“Ted, what happened?” Chase shook off his hand. “After you talked to her she passed out. Right after you went out the door. Do you know if she’s sick?”
“Oh no. I did it.”
“What did you do?”
“Don’t shout at me,” he growled. The buxom miniskirted woman lingered in the crowd of gawkers that had gathered, her wary, puzzled eyes on him. “I told her I was breaking up with her. I’ve been trying to tell her, subtly, but she wouldn’t get the message. So I brought Krystal with me so Laci could see her, and I told her flat-out.”
“She’s . . . delicate, you know.”
“Boy, do I. Where are they taking her?”
“U of M.”
Ted hurried away. Chase, after calling to Vi to mind the store, ran through the two rooms and out the back door to Anna’s car. As they sped southward, toward the hospital, Chase’s cell phone rang with a call from Vi.
“Chase? Miss Oliver?” What was wrong with everyone? Now Vi sounded distressed, like the world was ending.
“What is it, Vi?” She knew she had snarled at her. She softened her voice. “We’ll be back before closing.”
“The health inspector is here. He says he needs to reinspect.”
“Now? He has to do it now?” She could hardly expect the inspector to know that her employee was being rushed to the hospital. “Can he do this later?”
“He says not. His schedule is tight.”
Chase told Vi she’d be there in ten minutes. She told Anna to drop her back at the store. When would she learn to quit asking herself what else could go wrong?
TWELVE
Anna let Chase out in front of the Bar None and continued on to the hospital to see about Laci. Chase entered her own shop through the front door, something she didn’t usually do during business hours. Today she paused to appreciate her place. Seeing the cheery striped walls, the pink shelving, and, in the rear of the room, the shiny glass display case lifted her spirits momentarily. Customers eager to satisfy their sweet tooth milled about, creating a low, pleasant murmur. With the alluring aromas in the air, the first impression was nice for visitors, she decided.
She hoped it worked on health inspectors. Her insides tightened a bit, thinking about him poking around in the kitchen with no one else there.
Vi waited patiently while a couple of giggling upperclasswomen made up their minds what to purchase. Chase was glad to see that Vi was her usual put-together self, poised and polished. It had been a few days since she’d seen the old Vi.
She hurried through to the kitchen to find the same inspector as last time, the lanky, bespectacled Harold Johnson, this time in a blue plaid shirt, standing in the middle of the space scribbling on his pad of paper. He glanced up at her entrance and gave her a smile. She hoped that was a good sign.
“I see the sign is in place,” he said.
Chase held her breath. The job Anna had done tacking it up again had worked, probably because she’d used pushpins, not trusting Chase’s tape job. Now the employees could read about how they had to wash their hands every time they visited the restroom, something Chase was sure they appreciated.
Could the reinspection be this easy? He was still peering at her through his round glasses lenses, smiling underneath his bristling mustache. She nodded.
“All done, then.” He clicked his pen shut and extended his hand.
Chase grabbed it and pumped the handshake. “Okay, then, good, good.” She probably sounded like a babbling fool, but it was a relief to have something go right.
After he left, Chase helped Vi in the front until the stream slowed to a trickle at around 7:00.
“We have officially made it through the rush,” she said to Vi. “Let’s call it quits. I’ll flip the sign and you can leave as soon as these last few are waited on. I think I ought to get to the hospital to see Laci.”
“I hope she’ll be all right.” Vi wasn’t heartless after all.
“I do need to see her. Will you do okay here by yourself?”
Vi glanced at the three people left in the Bar None, all elderly women, for a change. “I’ll make it.”
“See you tomorrow, then. It should be relaxing.” Classes started on Tuesday and their business at the shop would be a fraction of what it had been for the last couple of weeks. At least she had Vi to depend on, to close up the store.
Chase went out the back, trying to tamp down an irrational feeling of unease, and drove to the University Medical Center.
She sped down East River Parkway, turned left on Harvard Street and zipped into the parking garage, sliding into a space fairly near the pedestrian tunnel. She ran down the long tunnelway to the main hospital and rushed to the emergency desk to find out where Laci was.
A very short older woman with gleaming snow-white hair was talking with the desk clerk. Chase got in line behind her since only one clerk was in evidence. A noise from her purse startled her—it was her cell phone. The desk clerk glared at Chase and pointed to a sign on the wall that said “Silence Cell Phone’s.” Chase sighed at the misplaced apostrophe, but followed the instructions. A glance showed an unfamiliar number, so she stuck the cell into her purse.
“Yes, dearie, thanks for asking,” the woman said, her voice strong in spite of her elderly looks and her diminutive size. She wore a pink velour pantsuit under a puffy down-filled jacket. “I’m feeling so much better.”
Chase couldn’t hear the soft-spoken woman behind the counter, who was typing and swiveling back and forth between the older woman and her computer screen. Chase hummed “Get Me to the Church on Time” from My Fair Lady and bounced with impatience, anxious to see how Laci was doing. That sent a twinge to her spine, so she stopped and stood still, changing her tune to the more sedate “Ol’ Man River” from Show Boat.