The Club by Jane Heller

Author:Jane Heller
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781682303573
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2016-03-18T04:00:00+00:00

Instead of going straight home, I took a detour to the Stop ’n’ Shop. No, not for a meeting with Tom, but to buy myself something to eat for dinner, since Hunt was staying in the city to dine with Loathsome Leeza. I figured I’d tell Tom all about my theory about Nedra and Rob tomorrow, when I felt more rested.

The supermarket was packed, and I had to wait in the checkout line for what seemed like an eternity. Of course, there were compensations: I got to leaf through The National Enquirer and The Star and The Globe, and find out more than I ever wanted to know about Burt and Loni, Oprah and Stedman, and a 100-year-old woman who gave birth to a dinosaur.

I pulled into our driveway at about six o’clock and parked in front of the large red barn that doubled as our garage. I gathered my packages and carried them to the back door that led directly into the kitchen. Balancing both bags in one arm, I fumbled around in my purse for my key, which I found and inserted into the lock.

“That’s weird,” I mumbled. “It’s already open.”

Had I forgotten to lock the door as I sometimes did, especially when I was in a hurry?

I proceeded inside with some trepidation, hoping that the house hadn’t been burglarized. Fortunately, everything seemed perfectly in order, and I came to the conclusion that I must have left the door open. I was exhausted when I’d left the house, I reminded myself, and not a little anxious about the state of my marriage.

I put the groceries away and pushed the “call” button for the elevator. Yeah, I know. I should have walked upstairs to the master bedroom. It would have been so much more aerobically correct. But I had very little energy, and all I could think about was letting the elevator carry me up to my bedroom so I could take a nice little nap before dinner.

The elevator arrived at the first floor and I walked in, flipped on the light, closed the gate and the elevator door, and pressed the button for the third floor. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes as I ascended slowly through the house—and I do mean slowly. The woman who’d installed the elevator hadn’t cared about speed; consequently, riding between the three floors often felt like creeping along I-95 in rush-hour traffic.

So there I was, riding in my painfully slow elevator, nearly falling asleep standing up, when I suddenly felt a jolt! The elevator had stopped, somewhere between the second and third floors! What’s more, the light on the ceiling had gone out. I was stuck in the elevator in the dark, with no light and no air.

“Help!” I screamed. “Somebody help me!”

I started to hyperventilate and my heart sped. Then I remembered the phone that Hunt had insisted on putting on the wall of the elevator. “In case somebody gets stuck,” he’d said. “Who’s going to get stuck?” I’d said, thinking he was being overly cautious.

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