Shadow Tag, Perdition Games

by L E Fraser

  “Does it matter if she’s developed a technique to avoid social contact?” Reece asked.

  “It usually means the person is hiding something. They don’t want you asking questions,” she said. “That would also explain why she’s faking heterochromia. A physical anomaly can make people uncomfortable.”

  Reece frowned. “You can’t think people would avoid her because her eyes are different colours. That’s so shallow.”

  Sam shrugged. “We live in shallow times.”

  “Ophelia is in Cardoon Bistro a lot,” Danny said.

  Sam looked up. “So?”

  Danny’s phone chirped but rather than turning it over to check the new message, her eyes flickered to Reece. “I saw her on the security footage Eli took from Cardoon.”

  Reece’s hands froze against Sam’s shoulders. “I told you to drop it.”

  “I’d already set up the face templates on your suspected victims to run against the Cardoon video files, and it took this long to find—”

  Reece interrupted with a hard edge to his voice. “You sent Bryce Mansfield the footage didn’t you?”

  “Yes. But the algorithms were running against a duplicate file, and you need to know—”

  Reece held up a hand to silence her. “I don’t need or want to know anything.” He stomped to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. “The deputy attorney general has ordered me to his office tomorrow. I’ll find out if they’re pressing charges. I swore that we handed everything over to Toronto Police Services.” He slammed the metal coffee carafe onto the kitchen island. “For God’s sake, Danny, do you know how it’ll look if they find out I kept copies and lied to them? Delete all the footage.”

  Sam swivelled in her chair so she could see Reece. “No one is going to find out Danny kept a copy. Even if they do, they can’t hold you accountable for someone else’s actions.”

  He ran his fingers though his thick black hair. A tuft stood up at the back of his head. “I swore we didn’t have copies. Make sure we don’t.”

  Sam wasn’t in the mood to suffer another heated debate between her straight-laced fiancé and their nonconformist associate.

  “We’re all tired and worried about Eli,” she said. “Was that text from him?”

  Danny turned over her phone and frowned as she read the message. She swiped something and her grey eyes widened. The colour blanched from her cheeks until her skin appeared translucent against her jet-black hair.

  “He’s gone.” She stood and backed away from the table, colliding with a chair.

  Sam intercepted her and barricaded the front door before Danny could bolt. “You can track him inside the clinic. Right?”

  Danny shook her head with a crazed expression, as if she were on the verge of unraveling.

  Reece took the phone from her limp hand and read the text. “He saw a robed figure outside Fadiya’s room and is in pursuit.” He cursed under his breath. “The location-positioning app can’t find him. Could his phone be dead?”

  “Have you met my brother?” Danny snatched her phone from his hand. “He’d never let the battery die.” She tried to shove by Sam to open the door. “We have to go to the clinic. We have to go right now.”

  “We’re going. Hold on.” Sam tugged on her sneakers as Reece set the home alarm. They ran down the hallway to the back entrance and sprinted across the parking lot to Reece’s grey Toyota. Danny kept her eyes glued to her phone, urging Reece to hurry as he pulled onto Queen Street.

  “Does your app show Eli’s last known location?” Sam asked.

  Danny shook her head. “Once the phone is offline, it’s gone.”

  Reece swung onto the exit for the Don Valley Parkway. “Maybe he’s in a dead zone.”

  “In a hospital?” Danny screamed. “Someone’s taken the phone and destroyed it or removed the battery. Hurry up! Go around that transport truck.”

  “Calm down. We’ll find him.” A sense of impending peril engulfed Sam. She never should have agreed to Eli’s plan. He wasn’t ready to take on an undercover assignment. He was too reckless and spontaneous. If anything happened to him, it would be on her head and she’d deserve every ounce of guilt.

  Reece sped west on the Gardiner Expressway. “Maybe a staff member found him with his phone and took it,” he said. “Eli could be in his room with no way to contact us.”

  Sam pressed her hand against his knee, grateful for his quick deductive reasoning. “You’re right. If security were doing rounds and found a patient in the stairwell, they’d call a nurse who would confiscate the device.” An iota of relief washed over her. “That’s probably what happened.”

  Reece took the exit into Parkdale and wound through side streets to reach the back of the hospital.

  Before the car had even stopped, Danny had jumped out and was running up to the entrance. They hurried through the ambulance bay to the hospital entrance, and Sam flashed her security card at the door reader. Once through the door, a guard stopped them.

  “Who are these people?” he asked Sam.

  She recognized him from the day she’d met Fadiya. He’d helped her get off the lockdown unit when her temporary badge wouldn’t operate the elevator.

  “Saul, I need to check on a patient.” She gestured at Reece. “This is Reece Hash a private investigator.”

  Saul’s frown deepened. “I don’t care if he’s the Prime Minister. He can’t be here in the middle of the night. You know that.”

  Ignoring him, Sam flicked her badge against the elevator call button. “Eli Watson’s sister has reason to believe there’s a serious issue with her brother. Have you seen him?”

  The guard’s stern expression shifted to confusion. “The rich kid up on the lockdown unit?”

  Sam nodded. “Did one of your team pick him up tonight outside his room?”

  He shook his head. “It’s been quiet all night.”

  “You better come with us,” Sam said, hoping that by involving him he’d ignore the break in protocol. “If something happens to Eli Watson, Dr. Beauregard will have our heads.”

  Saul stepped into the elevator, hit the reader with his security card, and pressed the floor number. He turned to Danny. “Why do you think something’s wrong with your brother?”

  “He called me,” she said simply, her eyes glued to the floor readout at the top of the elevator door. Her foot tapped impatiently as they ascended.

  “He’d have to leave his room to use a phone,” Saul said grimly. “A female patient did the same thing two nights ago. She grabbed the room door before it latched. We’ve told staff a hundred times to ensure the door locks before they walk away.”

  The elevator opened and Sam led the way down the hall and around the corner. Danny sprinted past the vacant nurses’ station, stopping short at the thick sliding doors that accessed the lockdown unit. Sam dashed after her and opened the doors. The second Danny could squeeze her body through; she rushed down the corridor to her brother’s room. She pounded on the door, calling Eli’s name.

  Fadiya’s door opened and Ophelia stepped out, grabbing Sam’s arm. “What the hell is going on out here?”

  Sam swiped her card against the lock on 317, opened the door, and flicked on the light.

  The room was empty.

  Ophelia stomped to the bathroom. When she came out, she threw her hands on her waist and stared at the group that crowded into the doorway. “Where is this patient?”

  Sam turned to Saul. “Can you lockdown the building?”

  “What?”

  “Lock all exits and deactivate everyone’s security cards so they can’t open the exterior doors,” Danny said.

  “Deactivate… I don’t know how to do that,” he said.

  “Take me to your security system,” Danny ordered.

  “What?” He turned to Ophelia. “Is the missing patient dangerous? How did he get out of the unit?”

  Ophelia stepped between them and glared at Danny. “Why are y
ou here?” She glanced at Reece and her frown deepened. “No one is moving from this room until someone tells me what’s going on.”

  “Eli Watson is an employee of our investigation agency,” Sam explained. “He was here undercover. There’s a positioning app on his phone. We lost him about forty minutes ago.”

  Ophelia looked at Danny with an expression Sam couldn’t read. “You mean you didn’t commit your brother on an involuntary hold because of his Asperger’s?”

  “Of course not,” Danny growled. “He's protecting Fadiya.”

  Suspicion narrowed Ophelia’s eyes. “From what?”

  “It’s a long story,” Sam said, reluctant to waste time by disclosing what they knew.

  “Then you better get explaining, because no one is leaving this room until you do,” Ophelia stated.

  Reece stepped forward and shot Danny a warning look. She shut her mouth on whatever she was about to say and stood with her arms folded over her chest, her nervous energy a palpable entity that charged the stale air in the room.

  “Some unknown perpetrator is selling Fadiya for sex,” Reece told Ophelia. “She’s pregnant.”

  Ophelia stood perfectly still with no expression. “Someone raped Fadiya?” Her voice caught.

  “Her claim about Mussani visiting her at night isn’t a deluded fantasy,” Sam said. “Someone is bringing men to her room. The trafficker preys on her indoctrination by making the buyers impersonate Mussani.”

  “What are you saying? She’s not suffering from delusional disorder?” The colour drained from Ophelia’s face.

  “We also believe that the girls who disappeared from the withdrawal unit were abducted and sold into slavery,” Sam said. “I think Bethany knows who took them.”

  Ophelia’s complexion was grey. “Human trafficking?” she stuttered.

  “Eli was following a man he witnessed outside Fadiya’s door just after one thirty,” Sam said.

  Ophelia shook her head. “That’s impossible. I was with Fadiya all night. I didn’t hear anything in the hallway.” She paused in thought. “Wait. I left Fadiya’s room around one-thirty to add a dosage change to a patient’s chart. I forgot to record it after I brought Eli upstairs. But I was at the nurses’ station for less than ten minutes.”

  “Are there dead zones in the hospital?” Danny asked. “Anywhere that a cell phone wouldn’t work?”

  “Not that I’m aware,” Ophelia said briskly, her usual air of authority returning. “Saul, lockdown the hospital. No one in, no one out.” She moved to the door.

  “I don’t have the authority or the IT expertise to do that,” he said.

  “I’m your IT expert,” Danny retorted. “Let’s go.”

  “But you need administrator credentials,” Saul argued. “We’ll have to wait for the head of IT.” He reached for the radio on his shoulder.

  Danny grabbed his elbow. “Take me to a computer now.”

  “Emily gave her full access to the security system,” Sam explained to Saul. “Alert your staff that there’s a missing patient. We’ll start searching.”

  “It’ll be faster if we split up,” Ophelia said. “You and Reece take the main level. Security will take the executive offices and basement. I’ll check the rooms on this floor and the withdrawal unit.” She brushed by Danny and went out the open door, turning toward the stairwell exit.

  Danny stomped through the doorway and stood in the corridor, waiting impatiently for her escort.

  “We need to call the partners,” Saul said miserably. “I saw Dr. Armstrong before you arrived. She might still be here.” He ran his hand across his bald crown. “Christ, Dr. Beauregard is going to have a meltdown.”

  “Let’s go!” Danny yelled through the open door.

  Saul visibly winced and joined her in the corridor.

  Reece took Sam’s arm before she could follow them.

  “Eli has been gone for nearly an hour,” he said solemnly. “You know what that means.”

  Dread and fear coalesced into a wave of physical sickness. She’d known that Eli’s determination to do this was because he was insecure. He’d wanted validation that he could do the job. If she’d offered more encouragement and had told him how much she valued him as a friend and an employee, he wouldn’t have felt it necessary to put himself in danger to prove his worth.

  “We need a forensic team,” she whispered.

  Reece scrolled through his cell phone and then held it to his ear. He gazed down the hallway while he spoke to Inspector Bryce Mansfield.

  Sam didn’t need Reece to explain why he’d called the head of the homicide squad. She’d been a cop long enough to know what they were dealing with.

  The chances of finding Eli alive were slim.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Eli

  A DAMP COLDNESS had seeped into Eli’s bones. Danny must have turned up the air conditioning again. He tried to reach for his bedside lamp. His arm wouldn’t move.

  Terror jolted him into consciousness. His vision blurred and excruciating pain sheathed his head. The agony surged in a thudding crescendo. Projectile vomit erupted from his mouth and he choked on acidic bile. His vision receded into shadowy darkness and burst into blinding white light. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears.

  Eli toppled over and curled into a fetal position on the dank floor, moaning and rocking as torturous pain assaulted his head. Gradually the agony dulled to a throbbing ache. He felt warm syrup dribble across his cheek and pool against his lips. He flicked out his tongue and tasted the metallic tang of blood.

  He lay still and breathed shallowly, trying to remember where he was and what had happened. Behind his closed lids, he saw a tiny girl with long blonde hair and elfin features. She was cowering in a dirt hole.

  No. Not a hole. A room below ground.

  An oily aroma of rock dust surrounded him, along with a dirty odour that was similar to cigar smoke.

  As if from a far distance, Eli heard a gruff voice echo in his head: “No one cares about this one so they won’t look. You’ll get a good price at auction.”

  He rolled sluggishly onto his knees and cautiously rose to a kneeling position. The buzzing in his ears intensified. He gritted his teeth and eased open his eyes. Dim yellow light pooled on the floor from a naked bulb that hung from the centre of a rotten wood ceiling. His eyelids closed against his will and his body swayed. He pitched onto his side, and a starburst exploded behind his closed eyes.

  He was in a university hall, and a speaker was lecturing about police procedures: “Never, under any circumstances, enter a confined space without backup.”

  “But I had to,” Eli mumbled. “I had to get her out.”

  He couldn’t remember who he was trying to help or why.

  In a shadowy picture in his mind, he was holding Danny’s hand. Their foster mother was crouched in front of them. Dazzling sunshine ignited the ribbons of gold through her thick chestnut hair.

  “It’s perfectly safe, honey. It’s a museum now and a guide takes us in. Don’t you want to wear a hardhat?”

  Their east coast vacation to the Maritimes.

  He had been thirteen and Danny had been eleven. His family had rented a cottage in Toney River, Nova Scotia. They’d taken day excursions, and one had been to visit the Springhill Miner’s Museum. The yawning mouth of the mine had terrified him but he’d tried to be brave for Danny.

  It was coal he smelled.

  As he regained consciousness, asphyxiating panic sucked the breath from his lungs.

  He was trapped in a coalmine.

  A fuzzy image of an antiquated boiler rose in his mind. Beside the monstrous machine was a rusted cart, stained black with dust.

  He wasn’t in a mine. He was in a coal room.

  His memory flooded back in a rapid series of disjointed images.

  He was in an unused boiler room at Serenity Clinic. Wagons used to dump coal down a shaft to this storage room, and men had shov
elled it into carts that ran on the rails. Someone had opened the mouth of the tunnel and was using it to abducted girls from the clinic.

  Eli forced his eyes open and searched around the cramped space. Where was the girl he’d tried to rescue?

  He rolled onto his back and stuck his legs out in front of him. They were bound with thick white zip ties. He couldn’t move his hands from behind his back, and he figured the same plastic ties restrained them. He clenched his abdominal muscles and lifted his upper body into a sitting position. Pain erupted in his head. He screamed, the sound of his misery ricocheting against the crumbling walls of the confined space that imprisoned him.

  Eli woke to the sound of a door crashing open. Hands were suddenly on him. Someone was dragging him from behind. He thrashed his bound legs and tried to squirm out of the person’s iron grip.

  “Stop Eli,” a female voice ordered. “I need to get you against the wall.”

  The woman shoved him. His back hit a solid surface.

  “You have a serious head injury,” she said. “Try not to move.”

  He opened his eyes and his vision slowly cleared.

  She leaned over him and peered into his eyes. “Do you know who I am?” she asked anxiously.

  “Ophelia,” he mumbled.

  “Thank God I found you,” she said. “Your sister asked about dead zones in the hospital. This sub-basement was the only place I could think of. I was searching it when I heard you screaming. I haven’t anything to cut your restraints.”

  “Dropped a knife,” he muttered. “Kicked it into the rubble.”

  She got up and hurried to the opening of the tunnel. She dropped to her knees, and Eli watched her rummage around the pile of broken stones and chunks of cement. The high-pitched ringing in his ears increased in volume. His eyes drifted shut.

  Suddenly, he heard yelling and a sharp prick in his arm that pinched.

  “Wake up Eli! You can’t go to sleep.”