Chapter 8 - THE NURSE WHO WASN'T A NURSE“MR. MITCHELL, SOMEONE HAS ACCESSED YOUR EX-WIFE'S PRIVATE PREGNANCY RECORDS. AND TEN MINUTES AGO, AN UNAUTHORIZED MEDICAL TRANSPORT TEAM ARRIVED TO TAKE HER AWAY.”
I heard those words through the phone in my holding cell.
Detective Ortiz's voice was controlled, but I could hear the urgency beneath it.
“What do you mean, take her away?”
“Two people arrived with paperwork requesting Emily's transfer to another medical facility.”
“Who authorized it?”
“Nobody at St. Matthew.”
I closed my eyes.
Someone had already attacked Emily once.
Now they were trying to reach her inside the hospital.
“Is she safe?”
“Yes. Hospital staff identified discrepancies in the transfer request before anyone moved her.”
I pressed my forehead against the cold wall.
“Thank God.”
“Nick, listen carefully. I need you to stop contacting anyone connected to your organization.”
“Why?”
“Because every time information circulates through your people, the situation gets worse.”
I couldn't argue.
“Do you understand?” Ortiz asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I swallowed.
“Detective, please tell Emily I'm sorry.”
There was a pause.
“I think she'd rather hear that from you when she's ready.”
The line disconnected.
I sat on the narrow bench.
My entire life had taught me that control was safety.
If I controlled enough money, enough property, enough armed men, no one could touch what belonged to me.
But Emily didn't belong to me.
Our child didn't belong to me.
And the more desperately I'd tried to control every threat, the more danger I'd created.
For the first time, I had to trust people whose authority I couldn't buy.
Doctors.
Nurses.
Investigators.
People who didn't owe me loyalty.
People who simply believed another human being deserved protection.
The following morning, Nora returned with news.
The forensic analysis had established that the recording used against me contained manipulated segments.
Investigators had also confirmed my location during the time the alleged instructions were supposedly given.
The state prosecutor was withdrawing the attempted-murder conspiracy allegation pending further evidence.
I was relieved.
But Nora didn't smile.
“This isn't the end of your legal problems, Nick.”
“I know.”
“Federal investigators are continuing their review of your financial activities. You need to comply with every condition they impose.”
“I will.”
Later that afternoon, I walked out of custody.
There were no black SUVs waiting.
No armed escort.
No drivers opening doors.
I'd instructed Ava to keep my people away.
A single ordinary car waited near the curb.
Nora handed me the keys.
“You're not going back to the office?”
“No.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the hospital.”
She studied me.
“Nick, listen. Emily's medical team may limit your access. You need to respect that.”
“I will.”
Nora smiled sadly.
“That's new.”
I looked at her.
“I'm learning.”
When I arrived at St. Matthew, the entrance looked different.
Not because anything had changed.
Because I had.
The nurses didn't seem frightened of me anymore.
A security officer checked my identification and directed me to the appropriate waiting area.
I thanked him.
He looked surprised.
I almost laughed.
Apparently, simple courtesy had become an unexpected event whenever I entered a room.
Dr. Whitmore met me near the elevators.
“Emily's been moved to a more secure medical unit,” she explained.
“Is she doing better?”
“Her neurological examinations are encouraging. She's still experiencing headaches and fatigue, and we need to monitor her closely.”
“And the baby?”
“Stable.”
I felt my shoulders loosen.
Dr. Whitmore studied me.
“Mr. Mitchell, I want you to understand something.”
“Of course.”
“Emily's recovery is about Emily. She doesn't need to manage anyone else's emotions right now.”
I nodded.
“Understood.”
“Good.”
She gave me a small smile.
“I think that's the first time you've agreed with me without arguing.”
I looked toward the elevators.
“She's a better teacher than either of us realized.”
Before I could see Emily, Detective Ortiz arrived.
She carried a folder marked with several evidence labels.
“We identified the source of the ultrasound image,” she said.
“Who leaked it?”
“A staff administrator at a prenatal clinic affiliated with one of your charitable programs.”
I frowned.
“Which program?”
“Blue Lantern's maternal health partnership.”
I stared at her.
Emily had helped create that partnership so women without insurance could receive prenatal care.
“Name?”
“Dana Pike. She's been suspended while investigators review the access history.”
“Did she sell the information?”
“We're investigating whether she shared it under pressure or for payment.”
I nodded.
“Has she told you anything?”
“She admitted receiving requests for Emily's appointment information from a representative of the foundation.”
“Sebastian?”
“She hasn't identified him yet.”
I looked down.
The trap was becoming clearer.
Sebastian had access to the shelter's finances.
Its security systems.
Its employees.
And now, apparently, Emily's pregnancy information.
He'd helped build the charitable organization that gave him access to women who had nowhere else to turn.
And I'd handed him the keys.
“There's more,” Ortiz said.
I almost didn't want to hear it.
“The people who tried to transfer Emily were wearing medical uniforms and carrying documents that appeared legitimate.”
“Did you arrest them?”
“One was detained. The other escaped before officers arrived.”
My jaw tightened.
“Did the detained person identify who hired them?”
“Not yet.”
“Then what do you have?”
Ortiz opened the folder.
“A hospital administrator noticed that the transfer authorization listed an escorting officer.”
She showed me the document.
The name was familiar.
Caleb Ward.
A detective who had worked alongside Ortiz for several years.
I remembered seeing him in the emergency corridor the night Emily arrived.
He'd been standing behind Dr. Whitmore.
Watching me.
Listening to everything.
“That's one of your people,” I said.
Ortiz's expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“Could the authorization have been forged?”
“Absolutely.”
“But you don't think it was?”
“I think we need to find out.”
She turned toward the nurses' station.
“Until we know more, Emily's location stays restricted.”
I nodded.
Then I noticed something on the document.
A handwritten notation beside Emily's name.
Patient requires immediate relocation before disclosure.
I pointed to it.
“What does that mean?”
Ortiz examined the page.
Her expression changed.
She looked toward the elevator.
Then she made a phone call.
“Find Caleb Ward,” she ordered. “Immediately.”
She listened for a moment.
“Since when?”
Her face went pale.
May you like
She ended the call and looked at me.
“Ward disappeared from his assignment forty minutes ago. And his last confirmed access was to the security system protecting Emily's hospital room.”
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