Here She Lies

Soiffer?”
    “Nothing. But Annie, don’t worry about him either. He’s a person of interest, that’s all.”
    Aren’t we all persons of interest? I wanted to say, but instead chose a simpler good-bye. “Thanks, Detective. I really have to go now.”
    I had walked into the hospital’s bustling lobby, where a sign on the wall read: PLEASE TURN OFF ALL ELECTRONIC DEVICES. He said good-bye and I turned off my cell phone and dropped it into my purse. At the information desk a man listened to my name and reason for visiting, made a phone call, then handed me a stick-on personalized guest badge. I peeled off the backing, which I balled up and tossed into an unused ashtray in the elevator bank. Wearing my green-rimmed name tag, I rode the antiseptic-smelling elevator to the third floor, as instructed. The doors parted with a ding. I stepped into an empty foyer. To my right was a wide glass door through which I saw what had to be my fellow new employees, about ten of them, also conservativelydressed and wearing their names in bold black marker.
    “Annie Milliken?”
    I looked to my left. A woman with straight brown hair and rectangular glasses smiled at me pleasantly. She was wearing red slacks and very pointy shoes and stood in front of a wooden door. A laminated identification card hung like a necklace over her white silk blouse.
    “We’ve been waiting for you,” she said. “Would you mind coming with me?”
    “But I’m here for the orientation. Isn’t it that way?” I pointed to the glass door.
    “Please.” Her pleasant smile seemed frozen in a way that made my skin crawl.
    “And you are...?”
    “Emily Leary, human resources director. Please.” She opened the wooden door and gestured for me to go in. “We don’t want to embarrass you.”
    Embarrass me? What did I have to be embarrassed about, here in this hospital, where I had never before set foot? All my life’s transgressions flashed through my mind as I tried to rationalize being culled from my orientation colleagues. Had my mascara run before when I started to cry, talking with Clark? Or had Kent, Lord of the Evil Fortress, been in touch with Ms. Leary to pave my way with unmerited land mines? That had to be it. The hospital had been going through my paperwork in advance of my orientation, as they’d said they would, and had had the dishonor of a conversation with Lord Kent himself. That man was even viler thanI’d thought, but I was sure it was nothing I couldn’t clear up.
    “Thank you.” I smiled politely, following Ms. Leary through the door and along a well-lit hallway. Our leather soles smacked arrhythmically against the glossy linoleum floor. We didn’t speak, just smiled and walked until we reached a door with an embossed nameplate reading DIRECTOR OF HUMAN RESOURCES. She swung open the door and stood back as I walked into a cozy blue-carpeted reception area that buffered her office beyond it. I barely heard her whisper, “I’m sorry,” as she closed the door behind me. She herself stayed out in the hall.
    Sorry? I turned to face the door, wondering why. And then from her office into the reception area with its unmanned desk came two New York City police officers. The tall one had apparently been preappointed as the talker.
    “Anais Milliken?” He pronounced it Ann-anus, and I resisted the urge to correct him ( Anna-ees ).
    I held my tongue, answering simply, “Yes.”
    The chubby one lifted a pair of handcuffs off his heavily laden belt. He averted his eyes from my face and lifted my right wrist, gently, like a prom date about to bestow a corsage. Then he shackled both my wrists together behind my back.
    “What is this? Where’s that woman? What’s going on here?”
    “Anais Milliken, you are under arrest for grand larceny. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to counsel. Anything you do or say can be used against you in a court of law...”

PART TWO

Chapter 6
    The big fenced-in windows of Midtown North were so grimy that hardly any light filtered through and the bright spring morning quickly darkened. Before we could get much beyond the front doors I was directed through a security checkpoint. My stocking feet felt the coldness and hardness of the floor as I walked through the portal to collect my purse and shoes.
    Voices clapped and echoed through the vast lobby with its high ceilings and marble floors, leftovers from another era. The place was busy, crowded with a crazy salad of cops, office