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“Dr. Bennett, we need to ask you some questions.” Another officer steps in my space.
“First, you tell me what you know,” I demand.
“You’ve seen what we know, which is nothing. Hospital is under lockdown in case this wasn’t an isolated incident and there is a much larger game in play. She could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She could have walked up while the perpetrators were waiting for a partner. There are too many unanswered questions. Our guys are going floor to floor, checking credentials, interviewing staff, and looking for anything out of place. Right now, we can’t confirm she was the target.”
“Bull fucking shit!” I scream, losing my temper. “They put a needle in her side, picked her up like a ragdoll, and threw her into a vehicle! If she wasn’t their tar
get, they abandoned their fucking job and in the process took her.”
“Dr. Bennett, we can’t assume anything.” He tries to sound reasonable, but my temper skyrockets.
“Did I mention she is my motherfucking fiancée!?! While you can’t assume anything, I can, and my conclusion is she was fucking kidnapped!”
He jerks, his eyes locking with mine, his soothing nature now gone. “It’s obvious she was taken, and we need to ask you some questions to put our resources in the right direction.”
“My office.” I turn on my heels, not giving anyone a second look. Before I can open the door, it swings wide and the hospital administrator hurries in.
“Claire Dixon has been kidnapped, there may be a criminal somewhere in our hospital acting out God knows what, and you better be ready to answer a shitload of questions,” I bark out, brush past him, and head back to the stairs.
Footsteps pound behind me on the way back to my office. My adrenaline is in overdrive as I pace the space, clawing through my hair, calling her once again, and feeling my heart splinter at the sound of her voicemail.
“Dr. Bennett, please calm down and talk to us. Tell—”
He’s cut off by a shrieking that almost takes me to my knees one second before my office door slams open and Bizzy flies in, pale and completely stricken. Shaw is a step behind her. She notices the two uniformed officers and screams. “Please, tell me it’s not true.”
Shaw wraps his arms around her waist and chest, bringing her to him and trying to subdue her. His eyes meet mine, and I can’t take the dread staring back at me. My legs give out, and I sink into my chair, dropping my chin to my chest.
“This is a closed meeting, ma’am... Please, give us privacy.” One of the men tries to soothe her.
“We’re not leaving,” Shaw speaks up. “In case you need to know, I’m a lawyer, Mathis’s brother, and Claire Dixon is family. In my estimates, you have about twenty minutes until our other brother shows up, and he comes with a lot of attention. I’d suggest you ask your questions.”
I lift my head in time to see the man’s irritation spark and his shoulders straighten. “How’d you get in here? The hospital is on lockdown, and I’d like to know how you are informed of a disappearance that has not been made public.”
“Do you really want to waste our time wondering that, or do you want to ask your fucking questions?” This comes from Bizzy, who is struggling against Shaw’s hold. I know exactly how they know—Evie.
Both officers narrow their eyes and start to argue when I break in. “Claire spent the day…” I draw their attention back to me and tell them what I know of her day.
They ask the standard questions: Do we have any enemies? Any threats? Any jealous old boyfriends? Drug problem? Debts? General problems?
No, no, no, all of them no.
They ask about our life, our friends, her family. Routines, hobbies, online presence, etc. With each answer and each passing minute, my anxiety spikes. They question Bizzy and Shaw as well, looking for any hidden clues.
Without knocking, the door crashes open again with Nick looking murderous, ushering Grace through. “Tell me you have something!” he roars.
The two officers can’t hide their surprise at his arrival. I guess they missed the part about him being my brother and Shaw’s warning about paparazzi. They do a quick job of gathering themselves, one of them even offering his chair to Grace, who accepts.
They share a look, and the hair on the back of my neck stands.
“Dr. Bennett, do you think this is about money? You are a part of a wealthy family.”
“Oh my God!” Grace cries. “Nick, you have to pay them!”
He squats next to her, placing one hand on her stomach and another on her cheek. “Sweet Peach, I’ll pay them, but let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“Mrs. Bennett,” one of the officers says softly, and both Bizzy and Grace’s heads whip to his. He directs his conversation to Grace. “It’s a theory we’ll follow, but your husband is right. Don’t jump to conclusions.” His eyes go to her large stomach.
“Okay, right.” She nods.
