Chapter 13 - Inside the Room
Raymond locked down the entire maternity floor.
Nobody entered without identification.
Every employee was checked.
Every maintenance access point was sealed.
Emily stared at the photograph.
Someone had been close enough to stand beside her bed.
Close enough to photograph her while she slept.
“What time was this taken?”
Samantha checked.
“4:06 a.m.”
Emily looked at the wall clock.
It was 9:17.
Five hours ago.
“Who came in?”
Nurses reviewed the access log.
Dr. Bennett.
Two nurses.
One phlebotomist.
Raymond.
Security.
No Michael.
Then Dr. Bennett noticed something.
“The cabinet.”
“What?”
She walked to the supply cabinet.
A tiny maintenance panel sat behind it.
The panel was loose.
Security removed the cover.
Behind it was an old service passage.
Raymond swore.
“This building has service tunnels?”
“From the original construction.”
Emily remembered the hospital’s age.
Parts had been renovated dozens of times.
Michael knew the building.
Maybe because Charles had shown him.
Maybe because he had been hiding around Saint Claire for years.
A K-9 unit searched the passage.
They found a black baseball cap.
A disposable mask.
A syringe.
Dr. Bennett examined it.
“Empty.”
Emily felt her baby move.
“What was in it?”
“We’ll test residue.”
Forty minutes later, toxicology called.
Midazolam.
A sedative.
Emily looked at Preston.
He whispered, “Jesus.”
Michael had come into the room intending to drug her.
Possibly worse.
Raymond immediately ordered Emily moved to a secure private floor.
Federal agents objected.
“We can use this.”
Emily looked at them.
“Use me?”
“To draw Michael out.”
Raymond stood.
“No.”
Emily stared at the agent.
“What would that involve?”
“Make him believe security has been reduced.”
Raymond said, “Absolutely not.”
Emily turned to him.
“He watched me for fifteen years.”
“That is exactly why you’re not bait.”
“He’s coming anyway.”
“No.”
“Dad.”
The word slipped out.
Raymond stopped.
So did Emily.
It was the first time she had called him that.
Neither knew what to do with it.
Emily recovered first.
“He’s coming anyway.”
Raymond’s eyes filled briefly.
Then he looked away.
An hour later, the plan was set.
Emily was moved to a different room.
The original remained dimly lit.
A hospital mannequin was placed under the blanket.
Agents hid nearby.
At 11:38 a.m., the service panel moved.
Michael crawled into the room.
He was fifty now.
Thin.
Gray at the temples.
He wore scrubs.
He approached the bed carrying another syringe.
Agents entered.
“Michael Whitmore!”
He spun.
The syringe flew.
Michael ran.
He crashed through the door and sprinted down the hall.
Security pursued.
Emily watched from a monitor in the command room.
Michael reached the elevator lobby.
The doors opened.
Preston stood inside.
Both brothers froze.
Michael smiled.
“Little brother.”
Preston lunged.
They collided against the wall.
Michael slammed Preston into the elevator frame.
Preston punched him.
Security closed in.
Michael shouted, “Ask Dad who drove the car!”
Emily grabbed the monitor.
Raymond went still.
Agents tackled Michael.
He continued shouting.
“ASK CHARLES WHO DROVE ANNA OFF THE ROAD!”
Emily rushed into the hallway before anyone could stop her.
“Who?”
Michael looked at her from the floor.
Blood ran from his lip.
He started laughing.
“Your husband really didn’t tell you anything.”
Preston stared at him.
“What are you talking about?”
Michael looked at Preston.
Then at Emily.
“Anna wasn’t killed by Vale.”
His smile disappeared.
“She was killed by a Whitmore.”
Emily’s chest tightened.
“Charles?”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
May you like
He looked directly at Preston.
“Our mother.”
