Chapter 2 - The Woman Belle Wouldn’t Let Go
Rue learned three things during the next hour.
First, Harlan Voss did not wait in emergency rooms.
Emergency rooms rearranged themselves around Harlan Voss.
Second, Belle hated needles but loved strawberry stickers.
Third, no matter how rich a man was, fear for his child made him look exactly like everyone else.
The private medical wing occupied the top floor of St. Catherine’s Children’s Hospital.
Rue sat in a chair outside Belle’s room wearing a borrowed sweatshirt a nurse had found for her.
Her waitress blouse was stained with garage dust.
Her feet hurt.
Her phone was dead.
It was nearly two in the morning.
She should have gone home.
She had tried.
Twice.
The first time, Belle had awakened during an examination and asked for Rue.
The second time, Harlan had appeared in the hallway and said, “She wants you.”
Not please.
But progress came slowly.
Now Belle was sleeping.
Stable, according to Dr. Miriam Shah, the pediatric cardiologist who had arrived twenty minutes after them.
Rue leaned her head against the wall.
A man in a dark suit stood twenty feet away.
Another guarded the elevator.
She had never been guarded while sitting in a plastic chair before.
It was overrated.
The door across from her opened.
Harlan emerged.
His jacket was gone.
His sleeves were rolled to his forearms.
The blood on his knuckles had been washed away.
He looked at Rue.
“You can leave.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You make everything sound like a firing squad.”
“Belle is stable.”
“That’s good.”
“She’ll stay overnight.”
Rue stood.
“Then I’m going home.”
“I’ll have someone drive you.”
“I can get myself home.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“I noticed.”
“Your neighborhood is twenty-six minutes away.”
Rue’s eyes narrowed.
“You looked up my address?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you did.”
Harlan did not apologize.
Rue picked up her purse.
“Good night, Mr. Voss.”
“Rue.”
She turned.
He held out her coat.
Someone had cleaned it.
Or possibly replaced it.
Rue looked at the navy wool.
“That’s not mine.”
“It was ruined.”
“My coat was gray.”
“This is warmer.”
“No.”
His brows lowered.
“No?”
“I’m not taking a new coat because yours got dirty helping your daughter.”
“That’s exactly why you’re taking it.”
Rue crossed her arms.
“If I save somebody wearing sneakers, do I get a car?”
“You don’t have a car.”
She stared at him.
“You looked that up too?”
“No registered vehicle.”
“That is looking it up.”
A sound came from the doorway.
Dr. Shah had returned.
She glanced between them.
“I can come back.”
“No,” Rue said.
“Yes,” Harlan said simultaneously.
Dr. Shah smiled.
“I’ll risk it.”
She handed Harlan a tablet.
“The episode was serious but manageable. Belle’s heart rhythm has stabilized.”
Rue exhaled.
“What caused it?”
Dr. Shah’s expression changed slightly.
“Cold exposure. Stress. Missed medication.”
Harlan’s face went still.
“Missed?”
“Her evening dose appears not to have been taken.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Her blood levels suggest otherwise.”
Rue watched him.
“Who gives her medicine?”
“My household medical coordinator.”
“Was Belle home tonight?”
Harlan looked at her.
“She was at a charity rehearsal in Voss Tower.”
“Who was with her?”
“My sister-in-law.”
Something in his tone ended the subject.
Dr. Shah looked at Rue.
“You did well keeping her upright and warm.”
Rue shrugged.
“I got lucky.”
“No. You made good decisions.”
Harlan’s gaze shifted toward her.
Rue ignored it.
Twenty minutes later, one of Harlan’s drivers took her home despite her objections.
She slept four hours.
At seven thirty, someone pounded on her apartment door.
Rue opened it wearing sweatpants and one sock.
Her landlord, Mr. Benson, stood in the hallway.
He carried an envelope.
“Morning.”
“No good sentence has ever started with a landlord saying morning.”
He didn’t smile.
“Rue, I need the balance by Friday.”
“I told you, I get paid Thursday.”
“You told me that last Thursday.”
She tightened her grip on the door.
“I’ll have it.”
He held out the envelope.
“If not, this becomes formal.”
Rue took it.
“Okay.”
Mr. Benson’s expression softened.
“I’m not trying to put you out.”
“People usually say that right before discussing how they’re putting you out.”
“I have a mortgage too.”
Rue nodded.
“I know.”
She closed the door.
For several seconds she stood in the tiny kitchen.
Then she put the envelope beside two others.
At nine fifteen, Pete called.
“You coming in?”
Rue checked the clock.
“My shift is eleven.”
“Come early. Melissa called out.”
“I was at a hospital until two.”
“So?”
“So I’m a human person, Pete.”
“You need the hours or not?”
Rue looked at the envelopes.
“I’ll be there.”
At ten forty-six she stepped through Sullivan’s back door.
At ten forty-eight, Pete cornered her near the ice machine.
“There were people asking about you.”
Rue stopped.
“What people?”
“Two guys in suits.”
“Oh.”
His eyes widened.
“Oh? That’s it?”
“They’re probably from a very aggressive church.”
“Rue.”
She tied her apron.
“What did they ask?”
“Whether you worked here. How long. Whether you had enemies.”
She stared at him.
“And you answered?”
“Should I not have?”
“Pete, if two men dressed like federal undertakers ask whether your waitress has enemies, maybe don’t give them her weekly schedule.”
He looked offended.
“They already had it.”
Of course they did.
At twelve fifteen, the lunch crowd hit.
At one twenty, Rue dropped a tray.
Not because she was tired.
Because Harlan Voss walked through the front door.
The restaurant changed around him.
Nobody knew exactly why they were staring, only that a man who looked like he owned the building had entered wearing a charcoal suit with two security men behind him.
Pete appeared from nowhere.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Harlan looked past him.
“Rue.”
Every waitress turned toward her.
Rue closed her eyes briefly.
Wonderful.
She walked over.
“What are you doing here?”
Pete inhaled sharply.
Harlan seemed almost amused.
“Belle wants to see you.”
“I’m working.”
“I noticed.”
“So did everyone else.”
“I need ten minutes.”
Pete stepped forward.
“She can take twenty.”
Rue looked at him.
“Traitor.”
“Take thirty.”
Harlan’s mouth moved.
Not quite a smile.
Outside, Rue folded her arms against the cold.
Harlan handed her a phone.
Belle appeared on the screen from her hospital bed.
“Rue!”
Her color was better.
Rue smiled instantly.
“Hey, strawberry girl.”
“I have two shoes.”
“That’s an improvement.”
“And Daddy said you have to come see me.”
Rue glanced at Harlan.
“Daddy says lots of things.”
Belle whispered loudly, “He’s bossy.”
Rue covered her mouth.
Harlan stared at the phone.
“I can hear you.”
Belle giggled.
That sound changed him.
Barely.
But Rue saw it again.
The intimidating man disappeared for half a second.
In his place stood a father relieved his little girl could laugh.
“I’ll visit after work,” Rue said.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She ended the call.
Harlan took the phone.
“Thank you.”
It was the first straightforward thank-you he had given her.
Rue nodded.
“Sure.”
He didn’t leave.
“What?”
“You have an eviction notice.”
Her entire body stiffened.
“How do you know?”
“Background check.”
Her embarrassment arrived first.
Then fury.
“You ran a background check on me?”
“My daughter was found alone with a stranger.”
“A stranger who called you.”
“That doesn’t make you safe.”
“No, apparently it makes me available for financial inspection.”
He lowered his voice.
“I wasn’t judging you.”
“You don’t have to say it out loud for it to feel like judgment.”
“I can solve the rent issue.”
Rue laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Of course you can.”
“I’m offering.”
“And I’m saying no.”
“You saved my daughter.”
“I didn’t send you an invoice.”
His jaw tightened.
“You think accepting help makes you weak?”
“No. I think accepting money from a man who investigated me twelve hours after meeting me makes me stupid.”
That landed.
Rue stepped backward.
“I’ll visit Belle after six.”
She turned toward the restaurant.
“Rue.”
She stopped.
Harlan’s voice was quieter.
“You’re right.”
She looked back.
“I should have told you.”
“That almost sounded human.”
“I have witnesses who can confirm it.”
Rue smiled despite herself.
Then she went inside.
At six thirty, she returned to the hospital.
Belle insisted Rue sit beside her.
They colored horses.
Harlan sat across the room taking calls.
He spoke quietly but people on the other end seemed frightened anyway.
Around eight, Belle fell asleep with August tucked beneath her chin.
Rue stood.
“I should go.”
Harlan ended his call.
“Wait.”
A man Rue recognized from the garage entered.
Tall, close-cropped hair, perhaps late thirties.
“This is Adrian Cole,” Harlan said. “Head of security.”
Adrian nodded.
“Ms. Callaway.”
Rue looked between them.
“What happened?”
Adrian placed a tablet on the table.
“We recovered footage from Voss Tower.”
Video played.
A hallway.
Timestamp: 10:53 p.m.
Belle appeared at the end of it.
She was walking beside a woman wearing a long dark coat.
The woman’s face was hidden by a hood.
Rue leaned closer.
“She went willingly.”
“Yes,” Adrian said.
The next camera showed them entering the service elevator.
The woman turned slightly.
Still no face.
Belle was holding her hand.
Rue’s stomach tightened.
“She knew her.”
Harlan’s eyes stayed on the screen.
Adrian switched videos.
Parking level B3.
The woman stepped out alone.
No Belle.
Then another camera.
A black sedan left Voss Tower twelve minutes later.
Adrian paused the frame.
“The plate was stolen.”
Harlan said nothing.
Rue looked toward sleeping Belle.
“Whoever took her knew about the cameras.”
“Yes.”
“Knew the building.”
“Yes.”
“And knew Belle would trust them.”
Adrian nodded.
Rue looked at Harlan.
“So this is someone close.”
His expression became unreadable.
Adrian reached into an evidence bag.
“There’s more.”
He placed a small plastic medication container on the table.
Belle’s name was printed on it.
Harlan picked it up.
“Where did you find this?”
“The Meridian garage.”
Rue watched his face.
“Is that bad?”
Adrian answered.
“It was empty.”
Harlan looked toward Belle.
“She had a full week of medication yesterday morning.”
Silence.
Then Adrian said the sentence that changed the room.
“We checked the prescription log.”
Harlan’s eyes lifted.
Adrian continued.
“Someone accessed Belle’s medical records forty-eight hours before she disappeared.”
“Who?”
Adrian hesitated.
Rue saw something she had not seen in any of Harlan’s men before.
May you like
Fear.
“The login belonged to someone inside your house.”
