by the door and simply spoke over the jut of his shoulder to her. “If you’ve got Standage’s number, call him directly. If not, call 9-1-1 and ask for the fire department. They’ll know how to deal with elevator emergencies.”
She pulled her phone from the bag looped over her shoulder and opened it to make the call. Good. “You said you were with the fire department now. Do you know how to get us out of here?”
“We’ll find out what I can remember.”
John wedged his big fingers into the slit between the doors. He grunted with the strain on his forearms and biceps until he created a gap wide enough to slide his hands in all the way and get a better grip. “Let’s see where we are.”
“Joe? This is Maggie Wheeler from 707. We’re stuck on the elevator. Are you working on the wiring? Or did the power get cut somehow? Yes. There are three of us.”
Once he could get his shoulders and body weight into it, John pushed the doors all the way open and took a step back to assess the concrete wall across from his feet. There was a gap about a yard wide at the top that revealed a white number 7 painted on a pair of outside elevator doors.
“Joe says he’ll be right up,” Maggie reported, stowing her cell phone. “Of course, that means he’ll be taking the stairs, and with his arthritis, that could still be a while. Are we between floors?”
“Yeah.” John wasn’t looking forward to spooking the woman any further, but right now he was a little glad that he’d gotten stuck in the elevator with the flame-haired Amazon instead of someone more petite. He glanced back to link up with those rich green eyes. “You got a name, Sarge?”
She nodded. “Maggie.”
“Maggie, can you reach those doors and help me open them?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she stepped up beside him. Good. That was an old trick that still worked apparently. Calling a person by his or her name got them to focus, maybe even trust a little. Giving that person a specific job to do was often the easiest way to distract her from her fears.
Even though he felt her flinch when their hands brushed against each other, she didn’t hesitate to slide her fingers between the doors and help pull them apart. Now they were looking out onto the carpeted hallway of the seventh floor. Weird. The only time he’d seen an elevator not align with the exterior doors was when the power had been deliberately cut by firefighters battling a blaze.
John glanced up. But the damn light for the seventh floor was still lit up. He wouldn’t be able to see out into the hallway if the lights were off there, too. What kind of crazy wiring did they have in this place?
“What do we do now?” Sergeant Maggie asked.
John was all for getting off this carnival ride until he could figure out just what the heck was going on. “Son?” He turned back to Travis Wheeler. “Are you a climber?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Careful,” Maggie warned, understanding what John was asking of her boy. “Shouldn’t we wait?”
“Give me the bat and glove first,” John instructed. “Backpack, too.” The boy handed over his prized possessions and John slid them through the opening onto the eye-level floor above them. “Hold on a sec. So your mama doesn’t worry.” He met the wary glare of deep green eyes as he picked up the two boxes of books and wedged one against either of the open doors. “That should buy us a few seconds in case anything happens.”
“What could happen?” Maggie asked.
John nodded to her purse. “Call Standage back. Tell him not to touch or do anything until we give him the all clear. We don’t want the power to suddenly reengage.”
While she called the super, John laced his fingers together and bent down to give the boy the boost up he needed.
“Cool, Mom.” Travis paused with his fingers and chin resting on the hallway floor. “This is just like that movie I watched at Juan’s house. The one where the elevator crashed and almost cut that
She pulled her phone from the bag looped over her shoulder and opened it to make the call. Good. “You said you were with the fire department now. Do you know how to get us out of here?”
“We’ll find out what I can remember.”
John wedged his big fingers into the slit between the doors. He grunted with the strain on his forearms and biceps until he created a gap wide enough to slide his hands in all the way and get a better grip. “Let’s see where we are.”
“Joe? This is Maggie Wheeler from 707. We’re stuck on the elevator. Are you working on the wiring? Or did the power get cut somehow? Yes. There are three of us.”
Once he could get his shoulders and body weight into it, John pushed the doors all the way open and took a step back to assess the concrete wall across from his feet. There was a gap about a yard wide at the top that revealed a white number 7 painted on a pair of outside elevator doors.
“Joe says he’ll be right up,” Maggie reported, stowing her cell phone. “Of course, that means he’ll be taking the stairs, and with his arthritis, that could still be a while. Are we between floors?”
“Yeah.” John wasn’t looking forward to spooking the woman any further, but right now he was a little glad that he’d gotten stuck in the elevator with the flame-haired Amazon instead of someone more petite. He glanced back to link up with those rich green eyes. “You got a name, Sarge?”
She nodded. “Maggie.”
“Maggie, can you reach those doors and help me open them?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she stepped up beside him. Good. That was an old trick that still worked apparently. Calling a person by his or her name got them to focus, maybe even trust a little. Giving that person a specific job to do was often the easiest way to distract her from her fears.
Even though he felt her flinch when their hands brushed against each other, she didn’t hesitate to slide her fingers between the doors and help pull them apart. Now they were looking out onto the carpeted hallway of the seventh floor. Weird. The only time he’d seen an elevator not align with the exterior doors was when the power had been deliberately cut by firefighters battling a blaze.
John glanced up. But the damn light for the seventh floor was still lit up. He wouldn’t be able to see out into the hallway if the lights were off there, too. What kind of crazy wiring did they have in this place?
“What do we do now?” Sergeant Maggie asked.
John was all for getting off this carnival ride until he could figure out just what the heck was going on. “Son?” He turned back to Travis Wheeler. “Are you a climber?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Careful,” Maggie warned, understanding what John was asking of her boy. “Shouldn’t we wait?”
“Give me the bat and glove first,” John instructed. “Backpack, too.” The boy handed over his prized possessions and John slid them through the opening onto the eye-level floor above them. “Hold on a sec. So your mama doesn’t worry.” He met the wary glare of deep green eyes as he picked up the two boxes of books and wedged one against either of the open doors. “That should buy us a few seconds in case anything happens.”
“What could happen?” Maggie asked.
John nodded to her purse. “Call Standage back. Tell him not to touch or do anything until we give him the all clear. We don’t want the power to suddenly reengage.”
While she called the super, John laced his fingers together and bent down to give the boy the boost up he needed.
“Cool, Mom.” Travis paused with his fingers and chin resting on the hallway floor. “This is just like that movie I watched at Juan’s house. The one where the elevator crashed and almost cut that
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