Chapter 2 - THE NURSE WHO DID NOT EXIST
Marianne drove without direction for twelve minutes.
Rain swept across the windshield, blurring traffic lights into red and green stains.
She checked the rearview mirror every few seconds.
A black sedan followed her through two turns.
She changed lanes.
It changed lanes.
She turned into a crowded shopping center and parked near the main entrance.
The sedan continued past.
Marianne remained inside her car until her breathing steadied.
Her phone showed three missed calls from Derek.
Then five.
Then a voicemail.
She did not listen.
Instead, she messaged Naomi.
Where can we meet?
The answer took longer this time.
Old Union Station. Locker hall. Twenty minutes. Come alone.
Marianne knew the station. It had once been the city’s main railway terminal before the modern transit center opened downtown. Now only two regional trains stopped there each day, and half the building had been converted into shops that closed before sunset.
She considered calling the police.
Then she remembered Derek’s relaxed posture inside the private hospital room, the unattached monitors, the mention of power of attorney, and Naomi’s warning that someone had searched her home.
She also remembered the police officer who had visited the hospital two months earlier after Marianne questioned an invoice.
The officer had spoken privately with Derek before assuring her that the bill was legitimate.
At the time, she had felt embarrassed.
Now the memory frightened her.
She entered the station through a side door.
The vast waiting hall smelled of dust and wet stone. Rows of wooden benches sat beneath a clock that had stopped at 4:17.
The locker corridor was nearly empty.
A woman stood near locker 208 wearing a tan coat and a red scarf.
She was younger than Marianne expected, perhaps thirty-two. Her dark hair had been cut unevenly, as though she had done it herself. A pale scar crossed the skin beneath her left ear.
“Mrs. Cole?”
“Naomi?”
The woman looked past Marianne.
“Did anyone follow you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I saw a black sedan, but it didn’t enter the parking lot.”
Naomi led her through a metal door marked Employees Only.
They entered an abandoned ticket office overlooking the main hall. Dust covered the counters. Torn schedules hung from the walls.
Naomi locked the door.
“Show me your phone.”
Marianne hesitated.
“If you think I’m part of this, you should leave.”
Marianne handed it over.
Naomi switched it off, removed the case, and examined the back.
“What are you looking for?”
“A tracking device.”
“On my phone?”
“They used one on mine.”
Naomi returned it.
“Keep it off.”
Marianne set her handbag on the counter but did not release the strap.
“Who are you?”
“I worked at St. Matthew’s for fourteen months.”
“As Derek’s nurse?”
“As a contract nurse assigned to the private wing.”
“Why have I never seen you?”
“You did.”
Marianne frowned.
Naomi removed the red scarf.
The scar beneath her ear continued down her neck.
“You saw me in January. I was the nurse who told you Derek had gone into cardiac arrest.”
Marianne remembered.
A masked nurse had rushed from Derek’s room and ordered her to remain in the corridor. Minutes later, Dr. Vale appeared and said Derek had stabilized.
“I didn’t see your face.”
“That was intentional.”
“Why?”
“Because there was no cardiac arrest.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Naomi rested one hand against the counter.
“Derek was not even in the room. He had left through the service elevator forty minutes earlier.”
“Why would you tell me he was dying?”
“Because Dr. Vale paid me.”
Marianne stared at her.
Naomi did not look away.
“How much?”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
Marianne’s throat tightened.
“You helped them.”
“Yes.”
“And now you expect me to trust you?”
“No.”
“Then why contact me?”
“Because I tried to leave.”
Naomi touched the scar.
“They did this after I copied the patient records.”
Marianne’s anger cooled into something heavier.
“Who are they?”
“Your son. Dr. Vale. A hospital administrator named Conrad Pike. And at least two people outside the hospital.”
“What records?”
Naomi reached inside her coat and removed a thin black drive.
“Derek’s real medical file.”
Marianne could hear rain tapping the high windows.
“What does it say?”
“That he is healthy.”
The words should have shocked her, but the shock had already happened outside Room 714.
Now came the pain.
Naomi continued.
“He was admitted under a false diagnostic code. The room was billed as long-term critical care, but most of the money went through three shell companies. One supplied imaginary medication. Another billed for experimental treatments that do not exist.”
“And the third?”
Naomi looked toward Marianne’s handbag.
“The third purchases distressed property.”
Marianne thought of her refinanced house.
“The lake property,” she whispered.
Naomi nodded.
“Derek mentioned it during the phone call.”
“He has wanted that property for years.”
“It belonged to your husband?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him?”
“He died eight years ago.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
Naomi went still.
“Where?”
“Ridgeway Bridge.”
The color drained from Naomi’s face.
“What is it?”
She turned away.
“Nothing.”
“You brought me here because my son has been stealing from me. Do not tell me nothing.”
Naomi gripped the counter.
“My older sister died at Ridgeway Bridge eight years ago.”
Marianne stared at her.
“When?”
“October seventeenth.”
Marianne’s husband, Thomas Cole, had died on October seventeenth.
“What was your sister’s name?”
“Rebecca Hart.”
Marianne remembered a second car in the accident report.
A young woman killed instantly.
Her family had not attended the hearing because the police concluded Thomas had crossed the center line.
Naomi took a slow breath.
“My sister was an accountant. Three days before she died, she told me she had found something inside the financial records of a private hospital network.”
“St. Matthew’s?”
“She never told me the name.”
Marianne looked at the black drive.
“You think my husband’s accident was connected?”
“I think your husband and my sister were both carrying evidence.”
Marianne’s knees weakened.
Naomi pulled out the old desk chair.
“Sit down.”
Marianne remained standing.
“Did Derek know?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said there was something worse.”
“There is.”
Naomi removed a folded photograph from her pocket and placed it on the counter.
The image showed Derek standing beside Dr. Vale and Conrad Pike in a hotel conference room.
The date printed in the corner was from three years earlier.
Derek’s illness had supposedly begun six months ago.
Marianne studied the other people in the photograph.
A fourth man stood partly hidden behind Dr. Vale.
She recognized him.
“That’s Detective Halpern.”
“The officer who validated your son’s hospital bills?”
“Yes.”
Naomi nodded.
“He is also the officer who investigated Ridgeway Bridge.”
Footsteps sounded in the locker corridor.
Both women froze.
May you like
A shadow moved beneath the office door.
Then someone tried the handle.
