Chương 4
“One man.”
She turned from the window.
He closed his eyes briefly. “That correction sounded better in my head.”
Despite herself, Claire felt the beginning of an exhausted laugh. It died before reaching her mouth.
“There were three,” she said. “One was already on the ground.”
“He sold the location of a witness.”
“He was nineteen.”
“He got a woman killed.”
“So you ordered what? A lesson?”
Adrian looked at the television. The smiling hosts had been replaced by footage of a flooded street.
“I ordered them to hold him until I got there.”
“And when you arrived?”
“I broke his jaw.”
The bluntness of it settled between them.
Claire sat again.
“I watched you wash blood from your cuff in the office bathroom,” she said. “You told me it was wine. Then you kissed me with your hands still wet.”
Adrian’s gaze dropped to his rolled sleeve.
“The next morning,” Claire continued, “I found the hospital card in my purse. Eleven weeks. I could have told you. I thought about it until the sun came up.”
“Then you ran.”
“I chose the only thing I could choose.”
“You chose for him too.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her, waiting for denial.
Claire gave none.
“That is the part I have to live with,” she said. “You don’t have to make it easier.”
The waiting-room doors opened.
Gavin entered with Detective Alvarez behind him. The compression glove on his left hand had been removed. A pale scar ran from his thumb to his wrist.
“We have a problem,” Alvarez said.
Adrian stood.
“If this is about the hospital lockdown—”
“It isn’t. The security footage from the pediatric entrance was erased fourteen minutes after Mr. Blackwood arrived.”
Claire looked at Gavin.
He did not react.
Alvarez continued. “The deletion was performed through an external administrator credential assigned to Blackwood Protective Services.”
Adrian’s eyes moved to Gavin.
Gavin spoke calmly. “Standard response. We scrub Mr. Blackwood’s movements during active threats.”
“You scrub city hospital footage?” Alvarez asked.
“We prevent hostile parties from tracking him.”
“You also erased whoever may have followed him inside.”
“The footage was copied to our secure server before deletion.”
Alvarez held out her hand. “Then give me the copy.”
Gavin looked at Adrian.
“Give it to her,” Adrian said.
“It contains protected operational information.”
“My son is in surgery.”
“And if the footage exposes residential patterns, vehicle rotations, staff identities—”
“My son is in surgery.”
Gavin’s mouth tightened. It was not defiance exactly. It was something older, a reflex built from years of being the man who warned Adrian what every decision would cost.
“I’ll arrange a restricted transfer,” Gavin said.
Alvarez shook her head. “No. My technicians take custody of the server.”
“That will not happen.”
“It will if a judge signs the warrant.”
Adrian picked up his phone. “Send it.”
Gavin did not move.
Claire watched the silence pass between them.
Finally, Gavin touched the scar on his left wrist with his right thumb, an absent gesture so small she might not have noticed if the entire room had not been waiting.
“I’ll call the office,” he said.
He stepped into the hallway.
Alvarez watched him leave.
“Does he always need three invitations?” she asked.
“Only when he thinks the first two are mistakes,” Adrian said.
“Is he usually right?”
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Claire sat with it.
Alvarez pulled a chair closer. “Officers are at your apartment. The package is still there.”
Relief weakened Claire’s knees.
“They found six unopened candies and one wrapper in the trash. We’ll test everything. The return label is fake, but there’s a delivery record.”
“Who brought it?”
“A courier service account created that morning. Paid with a prepaid debit card.”
“Camera?”
“The lobby camera was angled toward the mailboxes, not the door. Your building manager says it’s been that way since someone hit it with a sofa in March.”
Claire closed her eyes. Mr. Feldman had complained about the sofa for three weeks. It belonged to the couple in 4B, who had tried to rotate it through the lobby and taken out a light fixture.
“What about the street?” Adrian asked.
“Traffic camera caught a gray sedan. Plate unreadable.”
“Make and model?”
“Your people are not part of my investigation.”
“They can find the car faster.”
“And contaminate the case faster.”
“While you protect your paperwork, the person who did this is choosing another route out of the city.”
Alvarez leaned forward. “Your employee erased evidence from a hospital within minutes of your arrival. I’m protecting the investigation from you.”
Adrian’s voice lowered. “Be careful.”
Claire stood between them before either seemed to notice she was moving.
“Stop.”
They looked at her.
“My son is in surgery because somebody knew who his father was before I knew they knew. I do not care which of you wins this room.”
Alvarez sat back.
Adrian looked away first.
Claire continued, “Detective, use whatever information helps. Adrian, you will not send anyone to my home, Ethan’s school, or this hospital without telling her.”
“You don’t control my people.”
“No. Apparently neither do you.”
The waiting-room door opened behind her.
Dr. Ruiz entered wearing a clean surgical cap. A faint line marked the bridge of her nose where a mask had pressed against it.
Claire forgot everyone else.
“He’s alive,” Dr. Ruiz said.
The room released a breath.
“We controlled the bleeding. His liver is under stress, and the toxin appears to have caused a severe clotting disturbance. The transfusion gave us enough time to stabilize him, but the next twelve hours matter.”
“Will he wake up?” Claire asked.
“We expect him to. I can’t promise when.”
“Will there be brain damage?”
“We did not see signs of prolonged oxygen loss. That is good. It is not a guarantee.”
Claire nodded because she had no useful response to a sentence that carried both mercy and terror.
May you like
Dr. Ruiz looked at Adrian. “Your blood did what we needed it to do.”
He placed one hand against the back of a chair.
