Chapter 6 - The Doctor Who Was Never Afraid
The security guard’s name was Mateo Cruz.
Twenty-eight years old.
Worked for Dominic for eleven months.
Passed every background check.
Never missed a shift.
Had a mother in Cicero and a younger sister studying accounting at DePaul.
And apparently reported to Dr. Jonathan Weber.
Rafael took him downstairs.
I didn’t ask where.
Part of me didn’t want to know.
Dominic found me in the kitchen ten minutes later, standing at the counter with both hands wrapped around another untouched cup of coffee.
“You should sleep.”
“You say that a lot.”
“You never listen.”
“You say obvious things.”
His mouth tightened.
“Mateo admitted Weber paid him.”
I looked up.
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
“For what?”
“Information.”
“About me?”
“At first, about Luca.”
“And now?”
“You.”
My stomach twisted.
“Why me?”
“Because Margaret named you.”
I looked through the windows at the dark lake.
“I don’t understand why Weber would risk everything.”
“Maybe because he has more to lose than we know.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Dominic held out his hand.
I ignored him and answered.
“Hello?”
“Clare.”
Weber.
I froze.
Dominic immediately knew.
He moved closer.
“Dr. Weber.”
His voice sounded exactly like it had inside Lakeview.
Calm.
Professional.
Almost bored.
“I imagine you’re confused.”
“You tried to kill Mr. Grant.”
Silence.
Then, “That is a serious accusation.”
“You deleted medication records.”
“You don’t understand those records.”
“Then explain.”
“I’d prefer to do that in person.”
Dominic shook his head once.
I asked, “Where?”
“Lakeview.”
“Why would I walk into the hospital that fired me?”
“Because Elias Grant is here.”
My heart kicked.
“You transferred him.”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“We need to speak privately.”
Dominic mouthed, No.
I looked directly at him.
“Give me a reason.”
Weber inhaled.
“Because the people you’re with are not who you think they are.”
I almost laughed.
“I’m very aware of who they are.”
“No, you’re not.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ask Dominic Romano why your mother’s name appears in Bluebird’s records.”
The world tilted.
“What?”
Dominic went still.
Weber continued.
“Ask him, Clare.”
The call ended.
I lowered the phone.
Dominic’s face told me everything.
He knew something.
“What did he mean?”
“Clare—”
“What did he mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“That was a lie.”
He looked away.
Rage came fast.
I stepped toward him.
“My mother had nothing to do with any of this.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you react?”
Dominic remained silent.
“Answer me.”
Rafael entered.
“Dominic.”
“Not now.”
“This matters.”
“So does this.”
Rafael looked at me.
He understood immediately.
“Weber told her.”
“Told me what?”
Rafael’s jaw tightened.
“Your mother worked for Bluebird.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“Before it closed.”
“No.”
“She was an accountant.”
“She was a bookkeeper.”
“For Bluebird Freight.”
I backed away.
My mother had told me she worked for a logistics company when I was little.
I barely remembered the name.
She stopped working there after my father disappeared.
My father.
The thought struck hard.
“What about my dad?”
Dominic said nothing.
I knew.
Somewhere inside me, I already knew.
“What was his name in your records?”
Rafael answered.
“Michael Bennett.”
I felt dizzy.
“He was a driver.”
“For Bluebird?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him?”
No one answered.
I had spent thirty years believing my father abandoned us.
One morning he left for work and never returned.
My mother never talked about him.
Whenever I asked, she said, Some people are better left in the past.
I had always assumed she meant he had chosen another life.
“What happened to him?”
Dominic stepped closer.
“There was a fire.”
My breathing stopped.
“What fire?”
“A warehouse fire in 1998.”
“He died?”
“We don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Three bodies were recovered. Michael wasn’t one of them.”
“Then he disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“And my mother knew?”
“We believe so.”
I sank into a chair.
Thirty years of anger toward a man who might not have abandoned me.
Thirty years of questions my mother took to her grave.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
Dominic crouched in front of me.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t touch me.”
He stopped.
“I need to go to Lakeview.”
“No.”
“Weber knows something.”
“He wants you there because it benefits him.”
“He has Grant.”
“We don’t know that.”
“We need Grant alive.”
“I know.”
“And if Weber knows about my parents—”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that!”
The kitchen went silent.
Dominic stood.
“You’re not going alone.”
“I never said I was.”
Two hours later, we entered Lakeview Memorial through the underground garage.
Returning felt surreal.
Yesterday I had been an employee.
Today I was sneaking through the basement with Chicago’s most feared man.
Dominic wore a dark coat and no visible weapon.
Rafael stayed in the car.
I used an old service entrance code.
It still worked.
Typical Lakeview.
We reached the sixth floor.
Room 614 was empty.
I stopped outside it.
Margaret had died here.
Dominic touched my shoulder lightly.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked at him.
“That was a terrible answer.”
“People who say they’re fine usually aren’t.”
Weber had told me to meet him in the old surgical conference room.
When we arrived, the door was open.
Inside sat Elias Grant.
Alive.
Pale.
Terrified.
Weber stood behind him.
No weapon.
No guards.
Just the doctor I had worked beside for seven years.
“Clare,” he said.
I stopped.
Dominic remained slightly behind me.
Grant looked at me.
“You saved me.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For bringing this to your life.”
Weber moved slowly toward the table.
“Close the door.”
Dominic didn’t move.
Weber looked at him.
“I’m not your enemy.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“That is usually what enemies say.”
Grant leaned forward.
“He’s telling the truth.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Weber didn’t drug me.”
“Then who did?”
Grant looked toward the doorway.
“Kathryn Davis.”
My pulse quickened.
Weber said, “I deleted the medication entry because I was trying to protect the nurse whose credentials Kathryn used.”
“Whose?”
He met my eyes.
“Emily Shaw’s.”
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
“She stole Emily’s access.”
“Why?”
“To frame her if Grant died.”
I stared at Weber.
“Then why fire me?”
“I didn’t.”
“You signed the incident report.”
“I was told you were being suspended for forty-eight hours.”
Dominic asked, “By whom?”
Weber looked directly at him.
“Anthony Romano.”
A sound came from the hall.
Dominic turned.
Too late.
The conference-room door slammed shut.
The lights went out.
May you like
And through the darkness, Kathryn Davis’s voice came over the hospital intercom.
“Thank you for bringing Clare exactly where we needed her.”
