Chapter 3 - The Woman in Room 608
Elena woke to the sound of a monitor beeping.
Everything hurt.
Her ribs.
Her shoulder.
Her left ankle.
Her head felt as if someone had driven a nail through it.
A nurse noticed her eyes open.
“Ms. Marquez?”
Elena tried to sit up.
“Don’t. You have three cracked ribs, a fractured collarbone, a severe concussion, and twenty-two stitches. Somehow, you did not break your spine.”
“Police.”
“They’ve been waiting.”
“Which police?”
The nurse hesitated.
Elena understood immediately.
“Not Sheriff Mercer.”
Twenty minutes later, Deputy Price entered alone.
“You remember me?”
“You believed me.”
“I’m trying to.”
She studied his face.
“Did you check the briefcase?”
“It was empty by the time I got to it.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Then he has the phone.”
“What was on it?”
“A recording.”
Price pulled out a notebook.
“Of what?”
“Judge Vale admitting he took money.”
“Money for what?”
“Sealed warrants. Grand jury information. Court assignments. He was warning people before federal raids.”
Price stopped writing.
“That’s not corruption.”
“No.”
Elena looked directly at him.
“That’s treason against the system he swore to protect.”
Price exhaled slowly.
“Do you have copies?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“The phone uploaded recordings automatically.”
“To where?”
“My cloud account.”
Price leaned forward.
“Password?”
Elena stared at the door.
“No.”
“Elena—”
“If Mercer is working for Vale, I don’t know who else is. Nobody gets that password until I know who’s clean.”
Price almost argued.
Then he nodded.
“Fair.”
The door opened.
Sheriff Mercer walked in.
Speak of the devil.
“Elena,” he said warmly. “Glad to see you awake.”
Price stood.
“I was interviewing her.”
“I’ll take over.”
“No.”
Mercer looked at him.
“What did you say?”
“She asked for me.”
Elena hadn’t.
But she appreciated the lie.
Mercer smiled at her.
“Ms. Marquez, this doesn’t have to become ugly.”
She almost laughed.
“I fell off a balcony after being hit in the face. I think we passed ugly.”
His smile disappeared.
“You’re making a serious accusation against a federal judge.”
“I haven’t made one yet.”
That caught him.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I haven’t given an official statement.”
Mercer stared.
Elena smiled despite the pain.
“And until my attorney arrives, I won’t.”
She didn’t have an attorney.
Not yet.
But Mercer didn’t know that.
He left furious.
Price waited three seconds.
“Good move.”
“I need my sister.”
“Name?”
“Sofia Marquez. She’s in Baltimore.”
Price wrote it down.
“And I need someone outside your department.”
“FBI?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because some of the names in Vale’s files were federal.”
Price went quiet.
Then Elena heard something in the hallway.
A cart wheel squeaking.
Slowly.
Once.
Twice.
The nurse had told her medication rounds were over.
Price noticed her expression.
“What?”
Elena pointed toward the door.
The handle began turning.
Price reached for his gun.
A man wearing blue hospital scrubs stepped inside.
Mask.
Cap.
No badge.
He held a syringe.
Price said, “Stop right there.”
The man lunged.
Price slammed him into the wall.
The syringe flew across the room.
Elena screamed as the stranger elbowed Price in the throat and ran.
Price chased him into the hallway.
By the time hospital security arrived, the man had vanished down a stairwell.
A nurse picked up the syringe with gloved hands.
Her face drained of color.
“What is it?” Elena asked.
The nurse looked at Price.
“Enough potassium chloride to stop her heart.”
Elena stared at the open doorway.
May you like
Judge Vale hadn’t waited for her to die.
He was trying again.
