Chương 6
“Why?”
Shaw looked at him, then Claire.
“Because by then I had already helped hide things I should have reported. Because he told me if I exposed one case, every earlier case would come out and I would lose my license, my career, probably my freedom. Because he said the babies would have money and stability and you would believe they died during a catastrophic delivery.”
Claire whispered, “That was your justification?”
“At the time.”
“And now?”
Shaw looked at the empty cribs.
“Now I know there isn’t one.”
Claire wanted that answer to satisfy something.
It didn’t.
Reed’s phone rang.
He answered.
His eyes sharpened.
“What facility?”
He grabbed the legal pad.
“Repeat the address.”
Claire moved closer.
Reed wrote.
A pediatric urgent-care clinic in Purchase, New York.
Closed at night.
Privately owned.
The registered medical director had a consulting relationship with Bright Haven.
Sarah Danner’s phone had stopped there.
Vale’s vehicle had entered the same property three minutes later.
Reed looked at Claire and Daniel.
“We have a probable location.”
Claire’s body moved before her mind did.
She headed for the corridor.
Reed stopped her with one word.
“No.”
She turned.
“I’m coming.”
“You’re not entering that property.”
“I’m coming.”
“I can’t stop you from driving on public roads. I can stop you from entering an active operation.”
Daniel said, “We’ll stay back.”
Claire looked at him.
He held her gaze.
This time they understood each other without agreement.
Reed took a long breath.
“Fine. You follow in your car. You do exactly what I tell you. If I tell you to stop, you stop. If I tell you to stay in the vehicle, you stay in the vehicle. If anything changes, you do not improvise.”
Claire almost said yes too quickly.
Reed pointed at her.
“And you do not hit anybody.”
For the first time that night Daniel made a sound that was almost a laugh.
Claire stared at Reed.
“Was that necessary?”
“Yes.”
Even she could not argue.
They left Shaw behind with officers.
On the elevator ride up, Claire realized she was still wearing the hospital visitor sticker from the lobby.
CLAIRE MORGAN.
VISITOR.
She peeled it off and folded it in half.
Then in half again.
Daniel watched.
“You always do that.”
“What?”
“Fold sticky things before you throw them away.”
She looked at the tiny square in her hand.
It was such an ordinary observation that her eyes suddenly burned.
“You notice that?”
“I notice a lot of things.”
She wanted to say, Not enough.
Instead she put the folded sticker in her pocket.
Outside, rain hammered the hospital awning.
Daniel ran for the car.
Claire followed more slowly because her legs had begun shaking.
She climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door.
For several seconds neither of them moved.
The windshield disappeared beneath rain.
Daniel started the engine.
Claire said, “You believed them.”
He gripped the steering wheel.
“So did you sometimes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She turned toward him.
“You wouldn’t have kept asking for records if part of you didn’t hope they were right.”
She hated the sentence because it was true.
Hope had not always meant believing the girls lived.
Sometimes hope had meant wanting proof they were dead so Claire could stop searching.
That was the uglier truth.
There had been mornings when she wanted certainty more than she wanted a miracle.
She stared through the windshield.
“I thought I was losing my mind.”
Daniel swallowed.
“I helped you think that.”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
They sat in the hospital driveway while Reed’s unmarked car pulled out ahead of them.
Daniel shifted into drive.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire looked at the dashboard clock.
1:34.
“Drive.”
The highway north was nearly empty.
Rain moved sideways through the headlights.
Daniel kept both hands on the wheel and followed Reed at a distance.
Claire searched the photograph in her memory.
Yellow shirt.
Green shirt.
Dark eyes.
Crescent mark.
One girl leaning slightly toward the other.
Had they learned to walk?
Did they say words?
Did they sleep together?
Did they know they were sisters?
Did one wake when the other cried?
Were they afraid of strangers?
Claire had once known the answer to every question that mattered about them for thirty-seven minutes.
Baby A had gripped her finger.
Baby B had made a small angry squeak when a nurse adjusted her blanket.
Then they were gone.
At 1:58, Reed’s brake lights flashed ahead.
His vehicle turned into a dark shopping plaza two blocks from the pediatric clinic.
Daniel followed.
Several police vehicles were already there with lights off.
Reed came to their window through the rain.
“Stay here.”
Claire nodded.
He looked at her long enough to decide whether to believe it.
Then he ran back toward the others.
Twenty minutes passed.
Claire watched rain crawl down the passenger window.
Daniel checked his phone repeatedly without unlocking it.
At 2:21, he said, “The pickup time.”
“I know.”
At 2:26, Claire saw two officers cross the far end of the parking lot.
At 2:31, an ambulance arrived without sirens.
She opened her door.
Daniel caught her sleeve.
“You promised.”
“I promised Reed.”
“That’s what I mean.”
“What if one of them is hurt?”
“Then running into a police operation won’t help.”
She looked at him.
He let go.
“I hate saying sensible things to you.”
“You’re bad at it.”
“I know.”
She almost smiled.
It lasted less than a second.
At 2:36, Reed appeared.
He did not hurry.
Claire knew immediately that something had happened.
She was out of the car before he reached them.
“Are they there?”
Reed stopped in front of her.
“Yes.”
Everything inside Claire went silent.
Daniel came around the hood.
“Both?”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Her knees gave slightly and Daniel caught her around the waist.
May you like
Reed continued speaking because there were still facts.
“They appear physically stable. Paramedics are evaluating them. We have a woman we believe is Sarah Danner inside. Adrian Vale fled through a rear service exit approximately four minutes before officers secured the building.”
