Pen wondered if Bodie's abrupt departure had anything to do with Melanie's behavior. She'd been sitting right next to him. Maybe put a hand inside his trunks?

Thinking about it, Pen felt a warm, trembling stir. She stopped sliding the soap over her body, set it in the dish, and turned to face the spray.

Give the girl a break, she told herself. Melanie's only trying to protect her interests - keep Bodie for herself.

It's probably worse because of Dad. Something like that throws your emotions out of whack, distorts your perspective.

I should let her know I don't have designs on Bodie.

Sure. She wouldn't believe it, though.

Pen shampooed her hair. When she was done in the shower, she stepped out and dried herself. She brushed her teeth. She used the toilet.

The cool shower hadn't been enough to take away the heat from the spa and wine, and a light film of moisture made her robe cling to her skin when she put it on.

In the hallway, she turned off the overhead lights and stepped quickly past the closed door of Joyce's room. Melanie's door was also shut. A strip of light showed through the s.p.a.ce beneath it. Pa.s.sing the door, Pen heard a radio. And Melanie.

Breathless, quick moans from Melanie not quite hidden by the smooth voice of Kenny Rogers.

Pen rushed into her room and shut the door. Wiped her sweaty face with a sleeve of her robe. The sound of music came faintly through the wall. She stood motionless, listening, but didn't hear Melanie.

Tossing her robe onto the bed, she stepped to the window and opened it. The night breeze came in, chilling her damp body.

The radio voice now sounded like Way Ion Jennings and she heard a m.u.f.fled outcry that gave her stomach a flip.

She hurried to her suitcase, took out her hair drier, sat at the dressing table, and turned it on. The noise of the blower obliterated the sounds of the music and Melanie.

She entered the hospital room, and the bed was empty. 'Where's Dad?' she asked. 'Did he go home?'

'Wouldn't you like to know?' the doctor said, grinning. He was short and skinny, with black hair.

'Where's Dad?' she asked.

'First show me your t.i.ts.'

'Go to h.e.l.l.'

'Don't be a tease. I know you want me.' He tugged her bikini top.

I knew I should've dressed up before coming here.

The bikini tore away. She crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

'It's all right, I'm a doctor.' He twirled his stethoscope. 'Let me just see about your ticker.'

Pen wasn't at all sure about this. Probably a trick of some kind. But he could tell her where Dad was. She lowered her arms.

The doctor bent over and pressed the metal disk to her nipple. 'Cough,' he said.

He's no doctor. My heart isn't there. A real doctor would know that.

'I don't hear it. You'd better lie down.'

'What for?'

'So I can f.u.c.k your brains out.'

'You're him!'

She rammed a knife into his belly so hard it doubled him over and lifted him off his feet. He hit the floor with his hands and knees. 'Where's Dad?'

'You didn't have to kill me.'

'You're not dead, you're talking.'

'I'm gonna get you!'

She ran from the room and looked back when she heard rushing footsteps behind her. The man was chasing her, pulling the knife from his belly as he ran. Blood flew from his wound, spraying out, painting the floor and wall in front of him.

Pen jabbed the elevator b.u.t.ton.

He ran closer and closer, waving the knife overhead.

Come on, elevator!

Oh s.h.i.t oh s.h.i.t!

Pen hopped from foot to foot. She pounded on the elevator door.

The man wore a wild grin. He started to laugh, blood exploding from his mouth and nostrils.

The elevator doors slid open. Pen jumped inside. He lunged for her, but the doors shut in time, trapping his arm at the elbow.

The elevator started down. His arm glided up to the ceiling, broke off and dropped to the floor. He kept his grip on the knife. His arm rolled. The blade lifted, pointed at Pen, made little circles. Pen backed away from it. The elevator gained speed. Plummeted.

Where is it going?

Why doesn't it slow down?

It'll stop suddenly and I'm supposed to fall on the knife, but I won't.

She sat on the elevator floor.

Outfoxed you, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

The elevator stopped smoothly without the expected jolt.

The doors parted.

Beyond them was darkness.

The lighted indicator above the elevator door read 'B'.

This is the bas.e.m.e.nt. Somebody turned off the lights, that's all.

Oddly, the severed arm on the floor with the knife twirling in its hand didn't worry Pen half so much as the darkness outside the elevator.

The bas.e.m.e.nt. That's where the corpses are kept. The patients who didn't make it. Stored in drawers.

She sidestepped around the arm and stopped at the edge of the elevator floor. She peered into the pitch black.

She didn't want to go out there.

Her heart pounded with terror, and she struggled for breath.

'h.e.l.lo?' she called. 'Anyone there?'

No answer came.

Of course not. The dead don't talk.

She called out again. 'h.e.l.lo?'

'Help me,' came the distant, m.u.f.fled voice of her father.

'I'll be right there!'

If she could just find a light switch. She reached outside the elevator, felt along the wall, and a cold hand grabbed her wrist.

'Yyeee-ahh!!!'

Pen lurched awake and heard the last of her outcry in the dark room. She sat up, panting.

'G.o.d almighty,' she muttered.

She drew a sleeve across her face to wipe the sweat away. Her pajamas felt glued to her skin.

One h.e.l.l of a nightmare. She tried to remember it, and recalled searching for a light switch, someone clutching her hand. There must've been more to the dream, but the rest was gone.

Somewhere, she'd heard that you need to stay awake for three or four minutes - if you fall asleep any sooner, you might find yourself back in the same nightmare.

No thank you.

Besides, her mouth was dry, she had a slight headache, and she needed to urinate.

She got up, plucked the pajamas away from her back and b.u.t.tocks, and opened her door. The hallway was dark. One of its light switches was on the wall just outside her door. She almost reached for it, but thoughts of the nightmare sent a chill crawling up her skin. She felt the tingle of gooseflesh on her thighs and forearms, the nape of her neck, her forehead. The skin of her nipples grew tight and stiff.

It was just a G.o.dd.a.m.n nightmare, she told herself.

Still, she couldn't reach for the switch.

She turned on her bedroom lamp instead. It cast a pool of light into the hallway. No one was there, waiting to grab her. Of course not.

Feeling more at ease, she walked silently to the bathroom. She used the toilet. She found Tylenol in the medicine cabinet and washed down two pills. On the way back to her room, she paused in front of Melanie's door. The strip of light at its bottom was gone. No sound came from inside. She continued to her own room, stepped through the doorway, and stopped fast.

Bodie, in a rumpled bathrobe, stood facing her window. 'Are you decent?' he asked quietly without looking around.

Pen eased the door shut. She took a shaky breath. 'I'm decent,' she said. 'What are you doing here?'

He turned around. His hands were clasped at his waist. His eyes looked nervous. He made a feeble smile that quickly died. 'I just need to talk to you for a couple of minutes. I'm sorry for barging in.'

'It's all right,' she said. Her voice sounded strangely muted and husky.

Good Christ, she thought. He came to my room. What is this?

She sat on the edge of her bed. Folded her trembling hands. Took a deep breath. Looked down at herself, found her top b.u.t.ton open, fastened it, and refolded her hands.

Bodie came around to a straight-backed chair beside her dresser. His sandy brown hair was mussed. His robe was tightly shut, tied at the waist with its cloth belt. He held it together over his thighs as he sat down.

'You yelled or something,' he said.

'Yeah. A nightmare. A real winner.'

'Are you okay?'

She nodded.

'I wasn't going to come over, but I heard that, and then you walked past our door. I figured this might be the time. I was lying awake, thinking abouta' He hesitated.

'About what?'

'Telling you.'

Telling me what? she wondered. Her heart hammered.

'Bodie,' she whispered, 'you shouldn't have come here.'

'I know, I know. Melanie'd kill mea'

'Could you blame her?'

'I can't keep this thing to myself.'

'You hardly know me.'