Chapter 5: The Man Behind Her
I enlarged the photograph until the pixels blurred.
Mrs. Carter was sitting in a metal chair.
Her hands were folded in her lap.
Her face looked pale.
Exhausted.
Terrified.
Behind her stood someone wearing navy-blue Palm Harbor scrubs.
But the face had been deliberately cropped out.
All I could see was the uniform.
One hand resting on Mrs. Carter's shoulder.
And a silver watch.
I stared at it.
Something about the watch felt familiar.
A round face.
Black leather band.
A thin silver edge.
I had seen it before.
I just couldn't remember where.
My phone buzzed again.
Another message.
*LEAVE THE BOX WHERE YOU FOUND IT.*
Then another.
*GO BACK TO WORK TOMORROW.*
Then a third.
*ACT NORMAL.*
My breathing became shallow.
I looked around the private bank room.
There was no window.
One door.
One camera above the corner.
Suddenly, the safety deposit box didn't feel safe at all.
I gathered the documents quickly.
Not all of them.
That would be obvious.
I photographed every page I could.
Margaret Cole.
Walter Bennett.
Three other residents.
Account numbers.
Property records.
Power-of-attorney forms.
Signatures.
Dates.
Then I found one sheet that made me stop.
It wasn't a legal document.
It was a handwritten list.
Fourteen names.
Beside each name was a date.
Some had the word *TRANSFERRED* written beside them.
Others had *DECEASED*.
Mrs. Carter's name was near the bottom.
Beside it:
*PENDING*
Underneath hers was Henry Alvarez.
No status yet.
My stomach twisted.
Henry was next.
I took a photo.
Then I noticed another name.
One I recognized.
*Ruth Henderson.*
Room 219.
The woman who told me residents disappeared.
Beside her name was a date.
Tomorrow.
No status.
Just tomorrow's date.
I whispered,
"Oh my God.""
Someone had already scheduled something for Ruth.
I needed to get back to Palm Harbor.
But before I closed the box, I searched for anything that might explain where Mrs. Carter was being held.
At the very bottom was an old receipt.
A payment made by Palm Harbor Senior Living.
Not to a hospital.
Not to another care facility.
To a company called:
*Sunset Patient Transport Services.*
I photographed the address.
Then I put everything back exactly where I found it.
When I left the bank, I expected someone to be waiting outside.
Nobody was.
That frightened me more.
I drove three blocks before pulling into a crowded shopping center.
Then I called Thomas Greene.
Mrs. Carter's attorney answered on the fourth ring.
"Greene.""
"It's Emily Parker.""
Silence.
Then,
"You shouldn't be calling me.""
"Mrs. Carter called me.""
Another silence.
Longer.
"What did you say?""
"She said she's alive.""
Thomas exhaled sharply.
"Where is she?""
"I don't know.""
"Did she tell you anything?""
"She said not to trust the police.""
Thomas didn't respond.
"Mr. Greene?""
"I'm here.""
"You knew something was wrong.""
"I suspected.""
"That's not enough.""
"Emily—"
"They prepared a death certificate for her.""
His voice changed.
"What?""
"I have a copy.""
"How?""
"I can't explain over the phone.""
"Then don't.""
His tone became urgent.
"Do not send it to me electronically.""
"Why?""
"Because if what Evelyn feared is true, someone may be monitoring more than her.""
I looked at my phone.
Suddenly I wanted to throw it out the window.
"Can we meet?""
"Not at my office.""
"Where?""
He hesitated.
Then gave me the name of a small Cuban café in Coral Gables.
"Twenty minutes.""
The call ended.
Thomas was already sitting in the back corner when I arrived.
No suit jacket this time.
No briefcase.
He looked like a man trying not to be noticed.
I sat across from him.
"What do you know?""
He looked around first.
Then he said,
"Evelyn came to me three years ago.""
"Because of Palm Harbor?""
"Because of money disappearing from residents.""
"How much?""
"At first, small amounts.""
He stirred his coffee without drinking it.
"Two hundred dollars. Five hundred. A thousand.""
"Then?""
"Then property transfers started appearing.""
I leaned forward.
"What kind of property?""
"Homes. Investment accounts. Insurance benefits.""
My chest tightened.
"Who's receiving them?""
"Shell companies.""
"Connected to Palm Harbor?""
"I couldn't prove it.""
"Couldn't or didn't?""
Thomas looked at me sharply.
"I tried.""
"Then why is this still happening?""
His jaw tightened.
"Because every time we got close, documents disappeared.""
"From your office?""
"No.""
"From where?""
"County databases. Bank files. medical records.""
I stared at him.
"You think they have people everywhere.""
"I think they have access.""
"To police too?""
Thomas's eyes lowered.
"That part frightened Evelyn most.""
"Why?""
He leaned back.
"Because Walter Bennett went to the police.""
"Henry told me.""
"What did he tell you?""
"That Richard found out.""
Thomas nodded slowly.
"Walter filed a formal complaint.""
"With which officer?""
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
He slid it toward me.
A name.
*Detective Mark Ellison.*
I frowned.
"Who is he?""
"Miami-Dade financial crimes.""
"And?""
"He was Walter's contact.""
"What happened?""
"The complaint vanished.""
I looked up.
"Vanished?""
"No report number. No follow-up. No record.""
"Did Walter have a copy?""
"Yes.""
"Where is it?""
Thomas looked at me.
"In the box.""
I remembered the stack of documents.
"I didn't see it.""
"It may be under Margaret's file.""
My frustration grew.
"So the police are compromised?""
"I didn't say that.""
"Mrs. Carter did.""
Thomas lowered his voice.
"One detective is not the police department.""
"Then why are we whispering in a café?""
That shut him up.
I pulled out my phone.
"I found a transport company.""
He immediately raised a hand.
"Don't show me.""
"Why?""
"If you're being watched, I don't want to be seen holding evidence.""
I stared at him.
"That's convenient.""
His expression hardened.
"Emily, I'm trying to keep both of us alive long enough to do something useful.""
I hated that he had a point.
"Do you know Sunset Patient Transport?""
His face changed.
Barely.
But I saw it.
"You do.""
"I've heard the name.""
"From Evelyn?""
"From Margaret Cole's daughter.""
I leaned forward.
"What did she say?""
Thomas swallowed.
"Sunset transported Margaret the night she disappeared.""
"To where?""
"No one knows.""
"Who owns the company?""
He looked toward the window.
"On paper? A man named Daniel Reese.""
"And actually?""
"I don't know.""
"Can we find out?""
"Maybe.""
I thought about the date beside Ruth's name.
Tomorrow.
"We don't have much time.""
Thomas looked at me.
"Why?""
I hesitated.
Then told him about the list.
His face drained of color.
"Henry's on it?""
"Yes.""
"And Ruth Henderson?""
"Tomorrow's date.""
Thomas stood.
"We need to get her out.""
"How?""
"Family.""
"What?""
"If she has family, they can remove her.""
"Without alerting Palm Harbor?""
"No.""
He sat again.
"But it's better than leaving her there.""
"What about Henry?""
Thomas rubbed his forehead.
"Same problem.""
"I can't just walk two residents out.""
"No.""
"But maybe their families can.""
I thought about Ruth saying I reminded her of her daughter.
"She has a daughter.""
"Call her.""
"I don't have the number.""
"You have access to her chart.""
I stared at him.
"You're telling me to steal confidential information?""
"I'm telling you to protect a woman who may disappear tomorrow.""
Before I could answer, Thomas's phone buzzed.
He checked the screen.
His face went still.
"What is it?""
He turned the phone toward me.
A text message.
Unknown number.
*LAWYERS SHOULD KNOW WHEN A CASE IS CLOSED.*
Underneath was a photograph.
Of us.
Sitting inside the café.
Taken less than a minute ago.
I spun toward the windows.
Cars.
Pedestrians.
A delivery driver.
An elderly couple.
No obvious camera.
Thomas stood.
"We leave separately.""
"Wait.""
"Emily.""
"Mrs. Carter is alive.""
"I know.""
"And whoever has her knows I'm involved.""
"I know.""
"Then running doesn't help.""
He stared at me.
"Neither does getting yourself killed.""
I stood too.
"I'm going back to Palm Harbor.""
"That's exactly what they want.""
"Good.""
His eyes narrowed.
"What are you planning?""
"To act normal.""
"Why?""
"Because whoever sent those messages thinks I'm scared enough to obey.""
"You are scared.""
"Terrified.""
I picked up my bag.
"But I'm also angry.""
I didn't go home that night.
I rented a room at a hotel near the airport under my middle name.
Then I copied every photo from the bank onto three flash drives.
One went inside the hotel safe.
One I taped beneath the passenger seat of my car.
The third stayed in my shoe.
It sounded paranoid.
Until I remembered Walter.
Until I remembered Mrs. Carter.
Until I remembered Karen telling me to check my car.
At six the next morning, I entered Palm Harbor.
Karen was waiting near the nurses' station.
"You're early.""
"So are you.""
She studied my face.
"Did you sleep?""
"Fine.""
"Good.""
She smiled.
"We wouldn't want you becoming unstable.""
I walked past her.
"I'm here to work.""
"That's all?""
I looked back.
"What else would I be here for?""
For the first time, Karen looked uncertain.
Good.
Let her wonder.
I went straight to Ruth's room.
Empty.
My heart stopped.
The bed was made.
The curtains were open.
Her oxygen machine was gone.
"No.""
I ran into the hallway.
A housekeeper was pushing a cart toward me.
"Where's Mrs. Henderson?""
She shrugged.
"Transport.""
"When?""
"Maybe twenty minutes ago.""
My stomach dropped.
"Transport where?""
"Ask the desk.""
I ran.
Linda was working again.
"Where did Ruth Henderson go?""
Linda immediately looked nervous.
"Hospital appointment.""
"Which hospital?""
"I don't know.""
"You entered the transport.""
"Emily—"
"Which hospital?""
Karen appeared behind me.
"What's the problem?""
I turned.
"What did you do with Ruth?""
Her expression remained calm.
"Excuse me?""
"She's gone.""
"She had an appointment.""
"Where?""
Karen smiled.
"Why do you care?""
"Because she's my patient.""
"No.""
Karen stepped closer.
"She's Palm Harbor's patient.""
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I forced my voice down.
"Which transport company?""
Karen's smile disappeared.
There it was.
The reaction I wanted.
"Why?""
"Routine charting.""
I grabbed the clipboard from the desk.
"Who signed her out?""
Linda looked at Karen.
That was mistake number two.
I looked down at the transport sheet.
The company name was partially covered by Karen's hand.
I pulled the clipboard toward me.
She grabbed it.
"Enough.""
I saw only three words before she yanked it away.
*Sunset Patient Transport.*
My blood ran cold.
They had taken Ruth.
The exact company connected to Margaret Cole's disappearance.
"Where did they take her?""
Karen stared at me.
"You need to stop.""
"Where?""
Her voice dropped.
"Go do your job.""
I stepped closer.
"You know what happens to them, don't you?""
Her face changed.
Not guilt.
Fear again.
Then she whispered,
"You think I control this?""
I froze.
Karen glanced toward the security camera.
Then back at me.
"I told you to check your car.""
"What does that mean?""
"It means I tried to warn you.""
I stared at her.
"Why would you warn me?""
Her eyes flicked toward Richard's office.
Before she could answer, the elevator doors opened.
Richard stepped out.
Beside him was a man I had never seen before.
Tall.
Gray hair.
Expensive navy suit.
And around his left wrist...
was a silver watch with a black leather band.
The same watch from Mrs. Carter's photograph.
Richard smiled when he saw me.
"Emily.""
The stranger looked directly at me.
Then smiled too.
May you like
"Finally," he said.
"I've been wanting to meet the young woman who's causing so much trouble.""
