Chapter 4 - The Woman in the Hallway
The emergency lights flickered red.
Officer Bennett moved toward the door.
Officer Ramirez reached for her radio.
“Hospital security, lock down the maternity floor.”
The woman outside turned and walked away.
Not ran.
Walked.
That made her more frightening.
She knew exactly where she was going.
Officer Bennett opened the door.
“Stay inside.”
He disappeared into the hallway.
Officer Ramirez remained with us.
Maya held Liam tightly.
“Who was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“She looked like Victor.”
“She’s his daughter,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“The message.”
My phone screen still displayed Victor’s words.
She said she would hurt my daughter.
Then:
Check the freezer.
Victor had not entered our apartment to destroy evidence for my mother.
He had hidden evidence there.
The passports.
The documents.
The cash.
Maybe he had carried the gasoline can because my mother demanded proof he intended to burn the apartment.
Maybe he had planned to fake the destruction.
Or maybe he had changed his mind.
The hospital lights returned.
The alarm stopped.
Officer Ramirez’s radio crackled.
“Suspect entered stairwell C.”
“Female, approximately twenty-five.”
“Wearing stolen hospital scrubs.”
“Possible badge number copied.”
Maya looked at the door.
“Why is she here?”
The answer arrived moments later.
A nurse rushed into the room.
“The pharmacy system was accessed during the outage.”
“Someone tried to cancel Mrs. Collins’s antibiotics.”
Officer Ramirez’s face hardened.
“Anything else?”
“The infant discharge record was altered.”
“How?”
“The system now says Liam Collins was released to his grandmother twenty minutes ago.”
Maya clutched Liam closer.
“No.”
“He’s right here,” the nurse said.
“It didn’t work.”
“But someone tried to create a record showing he had already left.”
The woman in the hallway was not there to warn us.
She had come to erase Liam from the hospital system.
Officer Bennett returned.
“She got out through the loading dock.”
“Security found the stolen uniform.”
“No sign of her.”
“Do we have a name?” Ramirez asked.
“Clara Hale.”
Victor’s daughter.
Twenty-six years old.
Former medical billing specialist.
Recently fired from a private clinic.
Officer Ramirez looked at me.
“Do you know her?”
“I’ve never met her.”
Maya shifted carefully in the bed.
“I have.”
I turned.
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
“What happened?”
“She came to the apartment.”
“She said she was a nurse.”
My stomach dropped.
“What did she do?”
“She examined my incision.”
“Did she touch the wound?”
“Yes.”
“Did she give you anything?”
“An injection.”
Officer Ramirez stepped forward.
“What injection?”
“She said it was an antibiotic.”
“Your doctor prescribed oral antibiotics,” I said.
“I know.”
“But your mother said the hospital had changed the instructions.”
The nurse immediately checked Maya’s chart.
“There is no record of a home injection.”
Maya’s face lost what little color remained.
“What did she inject me with?”
The nurse called Dr. Patel.
Blood samples were ordered for toxicology.
Officer Ramirez requested a photograph of Clara Hale.
The image appeared on her tablet.
Maya confirmed it.
“That’s her.”
I stared at the photograph.
Clara had been at our apartment.
She had touched Maya’s incision.
She had injected her with an unknown substance.
Now she had broken into the hospital system.
Whatever role she played, it was larger than Victor had implied.
“Why would Victor warn us if his daughter is helping them?” I asked.
Officer Ramirez answered carefully.
“People inside criminal schemes often turn on each other.”
“Especially when money disappears.”
The words reminded me of the black duffel bag Mark carried at the hangar.
Cash.
Documents.
Passports.
Maybe they were not running together.
Maybe one of them was running from the others.
My phone rang.
Miami area code.
Officer Ramirez activated recording.
I answered.
“David?”
It was Chloe.
Her voice shook.
“Where are you?”
“That’s your first question?”
“Listen to me.”
“Mom has lost her mind.”
“You helped her.”
“I didn’t know everything.”
“You took my son to an adoption agency.”
“She said Maya agreed.”
“You watched Mark lock the apartment.”
“You watched Mom give Maya pills.”
“I thought she needed rest.”
“You held my son while strangers inspected him.”
Chloe began crying.
For once, the tears sounded real.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re scared.”
“There’s a difference.”
“She lied to us.”
“What did she lie about?”
“The money.”
Officer Ramirez motioned for me to keep her talking.
“What money?”
“The adoption wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“It was only supposed to look like it might happen.”
“What does that mean?”
“Mom needed documents showing you were dead.”
“Why?”
“She said the insurance company required proof.”
“The life insurance policy?”
Chloe inhaled sharply.
“You know?”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You have no idea.”
“Then tell me.”
There was noise behind her.
An airport announcement.
She was not inside the hangar anymore.
“Mom said you were planning to cut us off.”
“She said Maya was forcing you to rewrite your will.”
“Maya has never asked about my will.”
“I know that now.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t say.”
“You’re running from the police.”
“I’m running from Mom.”
Officer Ramirez wrote something on a notepad and held it up.
Ask about Ava.
“Who is Ava Morales?”
Chloe stopped breathing.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“Her passport was in my freezer.”
“David, listen to me.”
“Ava is not part of this.”
“She’s on the flight itinerary.”
“Mom was trying to help her.”
“By selling her baby?”
“No.”
“Then explain.”
Chloe lowered her voice.
“Ava is Mark’s daughter.”
I looked at Maya.
“What?”
“Mark had an affair twenty years ago.”
“Ava’s mother died last spring.”
“Mark found out Ava was pregnant.”
“He brought her to New York.”
“Mom said the baby could solve everything.”
“Solve what?”
“The debt.”
“What debt?”
“Mark owes people.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Millions.”
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I swear.”
“She said the adoption money would make a payment.”
“Forty-five thousand dollars doesn’t cover millions.”
“That wasn’t the real amount.”
“What was?”
“Two million.”
The private living-expense arrangement was a cover.
The real sale price for the babies was two million dollars.
“Babies,” I said.
Plural.
Chloe began sobbing harder.
“Liam was never supposed to be sold.”
“Then why was he there?”
“Because the couple wanted a boy.”
“Ava’s baby is a girl.”
“Mom said we needed to show them Liam to keep them interested.”
“They held him.”
“They were going to take him.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“They were only supposed to think they could.”
I felt something inside me turn cold.
“You used my son as a sales sample.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
“That is exactly what you did.”
Officer Ramirez held up another question.
Where is Eleanor?
“Where is Mom?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were with her ten minutes ago.”
“We separated.”
“Why?”
“She found out Mark moved money.”
“What money?”
“The four-million-dollar loan.”
“He wasn’t borrowing it for Mom.”
“He was trying to disappear.”
“Where is Mark?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at Miami International.”
“Terminal?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Police could trace the call.
Officer Ramirez was already communicating with Miami officers.
“Chloe, surrender.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom has Ava’s baby.”
I stood.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“She took the baby from the agency this afternoon.”
“New Year’s Eve?”
“Yes.”
“She said it was safer.”
“Is Ava with the baby?”
“No.”
“Where is Ava?”
Chloe’s voice cracked.
“Mark locked her in a rental house.”
Maya closed her eyes.
Officer Ramirez wrote another note.
Address.
“What address?”
“I don’t know the exact number.”
“It’s in Fort Lauderdale.”
“Near the river.”
“A blue house.”
“That is not enough.”
“Mark has the address in his email.”
“Give me his password.”
“I don’t know it.”
“You’re his wife.”
“He changed everything after I found out about Ava.”
Another announcement sounded.
Final boarding for a flight to Madrid.
“Are you leaving the country?”
“No.”
“Chloe.”
“I bought a ticket.”
“But I’m not getting on.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I left Mom’s bag in the restroom.”
“What bag?”
“The black one.”
“What’s inside?”
“Cash.”
“Passports.”
“And the original documents.”
“Which restroom?”
“Terminal D.”
“Near gate twenty-three.”
Officer Ramirez transmitted the information.
“Chloe, stay where you are.”
“I can’t.”
“They’re watching me.”
“Who?”
“The people Mark owes.”
“Tell me their names.”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because Mark never told me.”
“But Mom knows.”
“Mom knows everything.”
The line crackled.
Then Chloe whispered.
“David, there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“The emergency C-section wasn’t an emergency.”
Maya’s eyes opened.
“What are you talking about?”
“Mom paid someone at the hospital.”
“To do what?”
“To move the delivery date.”
“Why?”
“So Liam would be born before the insurance policy took effect.”
The words made no sense.
“What insurance policy?”
“Not yours.”
“Liam’s.”
My chest tightened.
“What policy on Liam?”
Chloe began speaking quickly.
“Mom took out policies on both babies.”
“She said newborn policies paid faster because no medical exam was required.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not through the company Mark used.”
“What company?”
“I don’t know.”
“Chloe.”
“I don’t know.”
A man’s voice sounded in the background.
“Give me the phone.”
Chloe gasped.
The line dropped.
Officer Ramirez immediately requested airport police intervention.
Maya stared at me.
“She said my surgery was scheduled?”
“You went into labor early.”
“I thought I did.”
“What do you remember?”
“Your mother brought me tea.”
“Then I started having contractions.”
“What kind of tea?”
“I don’t know.”
“She said it was raspberry leaf.”
The toxicology tests were no longer only about Clara’s injection.
My mother might have induced Maya’s labor.
Eleven days earlier.
While I was in Germany.
To activate insurance policies on newborn children.
Dr. Patel returned with the first toxicology results.
“Mrs. Collins, we found a sedative in your system.”
“What sedative?”
“Midazolam.”
The nurse looked shocked.
“That’s not something she should have received at home.”
Dr. Patel continued.
“We also found evidence of a medication commonly used to stimulate uterine contractions.”
Maya stopped breathing.
I reached for her.
“What medication?”
“Misoprostol.”
The same drug sometimes used to induce labor.
“How long can it remain detectable?” Officer Ramirez asked.
“Not eleven days.”
“This exposure was recent.”
Maya stared at the bloodstain on her cardigan.
“Clara injected me three days ago.”
Dr. Patel nodded.
“The sedative could be from that time.”
“But misoprostol is usually taken orally.”
“Could someone put it in food?”
“Yes.”
“Or tea?”
“Yes.”
Maya looked toward me.
“Your mother brought me tea yesterday.”
The infection.
The bleeding.
The contractions.
The weakness.
My mother had not merely neglected her.
She may have been trying to cause another medical emergency.
“Why?” Maya whispered.
No one answered.
Then Liam’s monitor began beeping.
The nurse rushed toward the bassinet.
His oxygen level had dropped.
Maya cried out.
“What’s happening?”
The nurse lifted him.
“Call pediatrics.”
Dr. Patel examined Liam’s face.
Then she looked toward the formula bottle beside the bassinet.
“Stop the feeding.”
“Why?”
“The formula smells wrong.”
The nurse opened the bottle.
A faint chemical odor filled the room.
It was the same sealed bottle the hospital had prepared twenty minutes earlier.
Someone had tampered with Liam’s food inside the hospital.
Officer Ramirez locked the door.
The nurse checked the hallway camera.
The last person to touch the bottle was not Clara.
It was the hospital volunteer who had delivered the feeding tray.
A gray-haired woman wearing glasses.
I recognized her immediately.
May you like
She was one of my mother’s closest friends.
And according to the hospital records, she had been dead for seven years.
