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“The administrator isn’t cooperating, but he’s beginning to see reason. Our forensics team isn’t having much luck finding a print here in the hospital considering all the employees, but teams are going to each of the women’s houses to try to lift a usable sample. We have officers going to the restaurants the women mentioned, questioning the staff and combing through footage if available. We’re working every angle to find out who this man is. Once we know that, we’ll find him. I’m not throwing the ransom theory out the window, but it’s highly unlikely.”
Bile stirs in my gut thinking about all the time I spent mentoring this son of a bitch. The first time I met him, I knew he was trouble, but somewhere along the line, I chose to ignore my instincts. He may have been a dick to women, but he showed talent in his field. Interested, perceptive, compassionate… taking a personal interest in patients.
Two things hit me at once. “Josh and my car.”
All eyes swing to me. “Josh is a patient of mine who was recently discharged. Clint showed special interest in his case. He never said anything, but I got the impression Josh resembled someone close to Clint. I mentioned him earlier to the officers interviewing me, but now, I wonder if there’s a deeper connection.”
“Take our technology specialist through the file. She may be able to find a missing link. What about your car?”
“He was in my car a few days ago when we went to tell Claire about Josh’s discharge. You will find his fingerprints somewhere.”
Detective Flores types something into his phone and then looks at me. “There’s a forensics technician meeting you at the elevator.”
I dig my keys out of my pocket and toss them to Shaw who catches them, takes Bizzy’s hand, and leaves to meet the tech.
“Mathis, what do you need us to do?” My dad speaks for the first time, his voice loaded with concern.
“Go tell Mom and the Dixons the latest news, so they’re not staring at their phones waiting for a ransom call. When you pass the nurses’ station, send Evie and Dr. Cross to my office. They are familiar with Josh’s case and also worked closely with Clint.”
He takes off, and I turn my attention to Grace and Nick. “Keep her name and picture rolling on social media. Now that we have a tip line number, add it. Put every recent picture you have of her up. Someone had to see something.” They nod, Grace’s eyes welling up again but determination also shining through.
“Dr. Bennett, if you’d like to speak at the conference, it can be arranged,” the Captain offers.
“Thanks, but I’ve got a job to do. And, I’m warning you now, when we find the bastard, there’s a good chance I’m going to kill him.”
The statement hangs in the air as I brush past them. They may think my threat is idle, but they’re wrong.
Chapter 19
Claire
“Are you going to tell me your name?”
“Bob.” His grip on my elbow tightens as we turn down another long hallway. I try to yank away, but it’s no use. He’s easily three times my size in bulk and weight, and the last time I tried to get away from him wasn’t successful. He didn’t flinch, but I was certain I almost broke my hand from the punch.
“Your
name isn’t Bob.” This brute of a man does not look like a Bob.
“Nope.”
“Where are you taking me?” I push for the tenth time, never getting an answer.
Silence.
Since I woke up an hour ago, he’s the only person I’ve seen. He was waiting for me to come to, and when the grogginess wore off, he immediately whisked me out of the room. My phone and watch are gone, so I have no way of telling how long I was out, but the drug used didn’t leave me bleary. I’m alert, aware, and fear is beginning to creep in. This stranger doesn’t seem to want to hurt me, but there’s no telling where he’s taking me. I try to plant my feet and get loose again, and shout in pain when his fingers dig into my flesh.
“Stop,” he commands.
“Let me go!” I scream, writhing like a madwoman.
Instead of releasing me, he bends, linking an arm under my knees, and throws me over his shoulder roughly. My ribs take the brunt of his muscular shoulder and knock the breath out of me. I wheeze through the pain and beat on his back, but it’s no use.
He finally stops. There’s a beeping then the sound of a door closing. The distinctive smell of disinfectant hits me, and I stop struggling. He places me on my feet, glares at me disapprovingly, and leaves.
I’m in a lab—a large, pristine, fully equipped, state-of-the-art medical lab. It’s laid out exactly like the one on our floor at the hospital.
A door behind me opens, and I spin, coming face to face with Clint. I’m stunned speechless, my heart beating out of control. This is not the hot, scrub wearing, make women fall at your feet, Clint. This is another man altogether. My eyes roam over him. He’s wearing expensive designer clothes, a diamond encrusted platinum watch, and Italian loafers I know cost over a thousand dollars. His usual unruly hair is perfectly styled. When my gaze lands on his face, a chill slides down my spine at the wicked smile aimed at me.
