Free Rancor: Sinister Attachments, Book 1 by Connie Myres Page B

before, she sometimes has spells.”
    “I don’t know, I think this was more than a spell.” Maggie watched as Susie took Debbie’s hand, and they walked into the hall. “I’d feel better if she got checked out by a doctor.”
    Debbie did not answer as she walked to her apartment.
    Maggie closed the door. What could she do? Report Debbie for possible child neglect? But Susie was up walking and shook her head to the affirmative when asked if she was okay. Maggie did not want to cause trouble and besides, Susie was fine when she walked out the door and Debbie knows about her so-called spells.
    Enough thinking about it, she thought. Might as well get a shower and do laundry. After she showered and dressed, she took the sheets off the beds and put them into a garbage bag since she still did not have a laundry basket. She was about to walk out the door when the cell phone on her nightstand rang.
    It was Nora Bella. “How’s that manuscript coming along?”
    “It’s coming along, don’t worry.” However, Maggie was worried because she was behind schedule.
    “Can you send it to me by the end of the week?”
    Maggie hesitated answering. “Sure.”
    “You sound tired, are you okay?” Nora’s speech slowed; she sounded as though she was actually concerned about Maggie more than the book.
    Maggie shrugged for no one to see. “It has been a little hard adjusting to everything that’s happened.”
    “If things are too difficult I may be able to convince the publisher to postpone things a bit, but for now, let’s stay on schedule, okay?”
    Maggie rolled her eyes. “Sure.”
    “Awesome, I expect to see the draft in my inbox by Friday afternoon. Chop, chop.”
    When Nora hung-up the phone, Maggie decided that she was self-publishing when the contract ended. No more pressure from a bossy agent and no more having her profits gobbled up by greedy publishers. She picked up the laundry and detergent to continue where she had left off.
    This morning she decided she would take the elevator, once again, to the basement laundry room. She pushed the button and waited, listening to the motor grind as if the wire cables were being stressed to their breaking point. Maggie was about to walk away when the elevator door opened. Why not?
    She walked inside and chose the basement for her destination. The dingy cab shuddered and then descended. It clanked to a stop, and the door slid open. She stepped into the dampness and began walking toward the laundry room. When she walked past the storage room, she noticed the last room on the right, which was previously locked, was slightly ajar.
    Maggie remembered Ethel’s talk of holding séances in the old hospital’s basement years ago. Could that be the room, the scrying room? Before looking inside, she would get her clothes washing and then see what was inside the room.
    With the rhythmical sound of water swishing in the background, she walked to the partially opened door.
    “Hello.” You never know, someone could be inside.
    There was no answer, so she reached inside and felt for a light switch. When she found it, she flipped it up and down. It did not work, so she opened the door as far as it would go so that the flickering fluorescent lights from the corridor would illuminate at least part of the room.
    “This is the room,” Maggie whispered as she stood in the doorway.
    Inside the darkened room was a round table with spent candles in the center, their hardened wax had dripped onto their holders. There were wooden table chairs scattered about the room, some were lying on their side on the dark concrete floor. It was difficult to see, but on the far wall was a drape covering something similar to a painting hanging. Maggie wondered what could be underneath it. She needed more light. Next time she came down here, she would bring her phone to use as a flashlight.
    Something touched Maggie’s shoulder. She jumped and screamed. When she turned around, she saw Bruce standing behind