My text message went unanswered, as well as my phone call to Susan and then Pete Ralston’s phone. We were in the Suburban now, racing towards the hospital with a handful of printouts in hand. Until Jo’s revelation, I was going to head to the wireless store and find out who else was helping Colton, to take away his informal network so no more damage could be done…but if he was at the hospital, there was no way we could ignore that.
The police didn’t know, and I kicked myself for not getting the names of the uniformed officers sitting outside of Dustin’s room. Now that I thought about it, for what he was accused of, it was odd that they had guards there for somebody they were drying out from an overdose. Were they protecting him? Was it because of the amount of drugs for sale that had been found under the bed? For a PI, I knew very little about police procedures. That was what my father and Johanna were good at. I would ask Jo, but she was working on talking Skye down from a panic attack as she made her own frantic calls. I had a sudden shocking idea. I should have seen it, should have thought of it already.
I thumbed in his contact info and hit send on my phone.
“Landon,” the man’s voice said in way of answering.
“Agent Sorenson, this is Jarek Grayson.”
“Jarek, nice to talk to you. I was going to get in touch with you on Monday…has something come up?” he asked, sounding a bit annoyed.
In the background I could hear the creak of chains and the laughter of what sounded like children.
“Yes, the man you are looking for, one Colten Banks, works at the hospital where Dustin Erickson is at. Skye’s brother, who’s been charged.”
“Excuse me?” Landon asked. “Kids, come on, we have to go.” I heard the muffled yell.
“I said, he works at the hospital. You know about the connection between Colton and Skye’s brother?”
“No, I just knew there was something going on. You have a location on him, for sure? Kids, NOW!” his voice was commanding.
“Not at this exact second, but Johanna said he was one of the nurses or orderlies at the hospital, working around his room. It looks like he’s the one who set this up. We’re en route to there now. We can’t reach Susan or Pete.”
“Don’t get involved,” Sorenson commanded.
“Can’t help it. Calling 911 is the only other way I can think of getting ahold of them, and that’s going to take too long. We’re already pulling into the parking ramp.”
“Do not approach him or spook him. He’s a part of a federal investigation,” he said, and I could hear the protests of what sounded like a boy and a girl.
I heard a car door slam. The sound changed, and I could hear all the background noise. Great, he’d put me on speaker.
“Jarek, hold on.”
I heard a ringing and then one side of a conversation where he told who I assumed had to be his wife to meet him nearby to get the kids. He must have had a second cell phone. Made sense; the FBI had almost as good of toys as I did.
“Ok, Jarek, you still there?” he said after a few moments.
“Yes,” I told him. “We’ll be up on the second floor where her brother is now. We’ll let the uniforms know what’s going on. I have a picture of him. Other than checking on her brother, I have more info for you when you get there. I don’t think it’s as important as this is, so….” I was getting overwhelmed.
I knew I wasn’t cut out for field work, and it was times like this when I was glad to have Johanna with me. Skye was coming for her brother of course, but I was once again dead weight who was tagging along in case the skills I had were needed. Jo whipped us into a parking spot, and I rocked forward as she applied the brakes.
“Jarek, you’re going to need to unlock the back with me,” Jo said simply.
That made my blood run cold. That’s where we stored the guns. I made my way out, my legs shaky from the reckless driving and bad nerves to the rear where she was already opening the door. I turned my key, she turned hers, and she opened up the safe. She took her handgun, a compact, and put it and the holster at the small of her back, adjusting her suit coat to cover it. She handed me a collapsible baton, like she normally carried.
This one we kept stored for me was identical to her Smith and Wesson, with what looked like a custom holster/sheath. It was made to fit sideways along the belt. For a hidden carry at the small of the back. It’d work well for me, my suit jacket would cover it easily. Someday, I would learn the intricacies of guns, but not today. Guns were definitely not my thing, and besides, with Johanna around, I didn’t need one. I turned to look at Skye, to see if she was panicking about the delay of going in, but she was eyeballing the armory in the false bottom of the Suburban.
“Do you need anything?” Johanna asked her.
“No,” Skye said, leaning down and pulling a knife out of her boot.
A quick flip, and with practiced ease, she had a butterfly knife dancing across her right hand and back into her palm.
“If I keep it in my pocket, it makes my jeans ride too low,” she said in way of explanation.
“Um…let’s go,” I said, closing the false bottom and locking it.
10
We made it to the elevators and to the second floor with only a few dirty looks from security. They must be used to worried family members running all out, but I’m sure we made an amusing sight for many. Johanna looked like a professional athlete despite her business attire, and Skye was wearing a Jolt Cola t-shirt with artfully ripped blue jeans and her customary Converse, or what she called her Chucks for some reason. I was wearing a suit, and for the first time, despite being the one who worked out the most, I was lagging behind.
When we finally made it to the corridor where her brother was, we slowed to a fast walk, and I noted that I’d started to break into a sweat. I’d have to shower again, and very soon, but that would have to wait.
“Susan!” Johanna yelled from about ten feet in front of me.
I looked up and there she was, with Pete, looking at us in surprise. The uniforms were standing there talking to her.
“What’s up, guys?” Susan asked, confusion written all over her face.
“We’ve been trying to call you,” Jo said.
“How’s Dustin?” Both Skye and I spoke at the same time.
“Uh…my phone didn’t ring, and the doctors are taking your brother for an MRI,” she said, pulling her phone out and showing it to me.
Nothing. I pulled my phone out and noticed I had no bars of reception. She must not be hooked into their Wi-Fi. I winced. No wonder she hadn’t answered. They probably came here before calling it a day. It was a Saturday after all.
“He’s here. Colten Banks is here somewhere,” I told her, holding up the printouts.
Susan went through them and then stopped at the printout of the driver’s license.
“He was here,” she said.
“I know, he’s a nurse or orderly,” Skye said, almost hopping from foot to foot with nervous energy.
“No, I mean, he was just here. He’s the orderly who just wheeled your brother out of here for the MRI,” Susan said, handing Pete the sheaf of papers and then running towards the nurse’s station with a single sheet.
“You mean, the nurse or orderly was the guy?” Pete asked, confused.
“Yes!” Skye yelled.
“Imaging is down that way,” Pete said, pointing over his shoulder. “That’s the way they took him.”
Skye took off on a dead run, followed by Pete. I stood there, not knowing what to do.
“Jo,” I asked.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what to do,” I told her.
“We wait for Susan. Skye’s in good hands,” Jo said.
I could see the tension in her eyes. I could for once guess her expression. Indecision.
“You want to go with Skye?” I asked her.
She nodded.
“Go. She’s your friend too,” I told her. “I’ll wait for Susan.”
“Keep your ph
one handy,” she told me solemnly.
“Promise. Go,” I urged.
I watched as she left.
“So guys,” I said to the uniformed officers. “This man is wanted by federal authorities,” I said, pulling out my tablet and showing them a picture of Colton.
“I was wondering what was going on. Yeah, that’s the guy who wheeled Mr. Erickson away,” one of the uniformed officers said.
They’d been standing there with a look of surprise and obviously had no clue what was going on. They were different faces from yesterday, so they were probably just told to watch over the patient, kill any would-be drug cartel assassins, and ensure life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness or some such nonsense.
“We believe he framed Mr. Erickson for the disappearance of his wife and planted the drugs under the bed. As far as we’ve figured, he’s also the dealer for Mr. and Mrs. Erickson, so he had access and opportunity.”
“Who are you anyways?” the second uniform asked. “FBI?”
“No, I’m a private investigator, with GIS. FBI Agent Landon Sorenson will be here shortly himself. He has as much if not more information than I have,” I told them in a rush.
“Don’t worry, I’m betting Detective O’Hara already has security locking the place down,” the first officer said. “We’ll find him. You don’t think that Mr. Erickson is in danger, do you?” the second asked.
“I don’t know, but I would assume so,” I told them both.
“Jarek!” Susan yelled, and I turned and started towards her.
* * *
My tablet buzzed, and I pulled it out, knowing it was hooked to the Wi-Fi. Skye’s worried face filled the screen with Jo hanging over her shoulder. She was walking, and the motion almost made feel seasick to see it. I stopped and leaned against the wall.
“Skye,” I said.
“Jarek, he’s not there. He never went to imaging.”
“Mephisto must have figured out we were on to him. Susan is with me, and we’ve got the two officers who were guarding the door at the exits with more on the way. Sorenson is somewhere in the building. His phone cut out, and security now has a picture of Colton Banks.”
“I’m scared,” Skye said simply.
“I’m scared for you,” I told her, not knowing what to say to comfort her.
“Jarek,” Jo said, her face filling the screen.
“Yeah?” I asked her.
“We’re going to start sweeping the second floor. Keep in touch if you find him, and don’t leave Susan’s side or I’ll end you!”
“I promise, Jo.”
I ended the video call and stowed the tablet in my inner suit pocket.
“No luck there. Let’s recreate their steps,” Susan said, walking towards the doorway.
“Yeah,” I said.
“The nurses said he wasn’t a nurse or even a nurse’s aide. The picture doesn’t match the name they have on file for him. He’s a part-time orderly and janitor. The address he gave is one I recognized. It’s the post office right down the road.”
“Could he have left the building with Dustin Erickson?” I asked her. “Based on the timing?”
“No. He literally left with him a few minutes before you two ran up,” Susan told me.
“Ok, so he takes him from here…” I said, looking at the room, “then he went…wait! He needs to have keycard access to get through the doorways!”
I almost laughed. I would be able to track him! I could do it!
I took off at a dead run to the nurses station, and Susan followed me. I came around the corner into their space so fast I startled the nurse working there. She started to protest, but I tuned her out. She still had Colton’s alias on the screen. I noted his badge number and wrote it down. His identity badge was the same as his keycard access, as they were on the same magnetic strip. I couldn’t access what I needed from their terminals, so I pulled out my thumb drive.
“Excuse me, what are you doing?” A hand grabbed my shoulder and the nails dug in as I was turned in the chair.
“Let me go,” I told her.
The nurse looked furious. I must have tuned her out, ignored her. I knew people often thought of that as me being dismissive, but my heart rate was increasing, and the pain in my shoulder was real.
“You can’t be here,” she said, getting in my face.
“Back off, police business,” Susan said, flashing her badge again.
“I’m getting my supervisor. I’m probably going to get in trouble with HR as it is for pulling up the kid’s file for you. I’m not going to—”
I tuned her out again as soon as her grip left my shoulder. I wasn’t worried that she was going to hurt me physically so much, just bothered by the fact that she was in my space. That’s one of the reasons I tuned people out. I plugged in the USB drive and reset the computer.
Waiting for it to reboot took less time than I thought it would. The terminal had minimal hardware, probably just an Ethernet card. Not even a sound card. My operating system booted quickly, and I pulled my tablet out and set it on the stand. Just like any computer in a somewhat secured network, if you came in as a part of the network, the system and mainframe thought you were allowed there. Since I wasn’t logging in as a nursing terminal anymore, I looked like I belonged.
“Skye,” I said after a moment. “Here is his keycard access. We’re going to track him,” I told her, holding up the paper.
“Got it, boss,” she said and clicked off, so I stowed the tablet again.
I accessed the database and ran a search string for the card access. It took me a few moments, but I found what I needed. I pulled the USB and rebooted.
“What’d you find?” Susan asked.
“The direction he just went. West hallway, through triage, and then he used his card to access the freight elevator.”
“Where did he get off?” Susan asked.
“I don’t know. It didn’t show any more swipes.”
“What direction did the elevator head?”
“That isn’t something that shows up on the network,” I told Susan.
“My supervisor will be here in a second,” the nurse spat at me.
“Are we waiting on Landon?” I asked Susan.
“I wish we knew—”
“Excuse me, but get out of my space. You’re not supposed to be here!” the nurse almost screamed.
I considered her for a second and then reached out and grabbed her name tag, which was clipped on the collar of her smock. She flinched away, probably thinking I was going to fondle her cheek or deliver a slap of some sort. In honesty, I moved quickly because the way she was behaving, I figured I only had a couple seconds to take her badge and escape with my scalp intact.
“Hey!”
“Landon!” Susan yelled, and I ducked under Susan’s arm and headed towards the west double doors.
“I’m calling security!” the nurse screamed.
“Don’t call them off the doors, or I’ll have you arrested,” I heard Susan say. Then I heard her hurried footsteps.
“What is going on?” Landon’s voice boomed behind me.
I swiped the nurse’s badge, and when the door clicked, I pushed through, followed by the burly FBI agent and Susan O’Hara.
“We have to hurry,” I said. “Banks has Dustin, and I know the general direction they went.”
The door closed at the same moment the irate nurse started beating on it, yelling vile threats at me from the other side of the glass.
“This way, fill him in,” I told Susan as we walked.
I focused only on the task at hand. I knew I had tunnel vision at this point, so I was trusting her to be my extra set of eyes. I found the direction of the surgical theatre and used the card to push through there. A couple of doctors and nurses gave the three of us surprised looks, but we were mostly left alone. Since we were now at least two locked doors past the nurse, it was doubtful she could slow us down further. I swiped us through a third set, which took us through a section of r
ooms that held bedding materials and supplies.
“Where are we going?” Landon asked, breaking my concentration.
“Heading towards the freight elevators.”
“Over there,” Susan pointed.
She was right, I had looked the wrong way.
“Up or down?” Landon asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, hitting both buttons.
“I’ll head up and work my way down,” Landon said.
“I’ll go with Jarek,” Susan said. “Which direction?” she asked me.
“I think he went down,” I told her truthfully.
“Why?” she asked. The elevator dinged and we stepped in.
I hit the basement button.
“He wasn’t a nurse, he was an orderly, a janitor. He’s used the hospital for a base of operations for a long time. I thought it was just a ruse, but it’s not. Why would he use this as a base of operations? Because like me, he has a comfort zone. He needs a place that is just his. If he’s a janitor, most of their supplies are stored in the basement. Remember the renovations they did about a year ago?” I asked her.
“Yeah, it was in the papers. There was a mess of asbestos in the basement or sub-basement. The cost over-runs were going to cost the city millions,” she said, confused.
“So they cleaned up what they had to, and sealed off the rest,” I finished for her.
Her eyes got wide. She nodded as the door dinged and we stepped out.
“This is just the basement though,” Susan said. “The morgue is down here.”
“I think I know how nobody saw Dustin getting wheeled around. People are looking for a patient in a wheelchair…not a gurney.”
“You have a devious mind,” Susan said, but followed me as I walked towards the morgue.
Unlike the rooms above, this one didn’t require keycard access. I pushed the door open and startled a man who was reading a chart behind the desk.
“Have you seen this man come through here?” I asked him, whipping out my tablet and showing him Banks’s picture.
“Yeah, he just went through here, I dunno, less than ten minutes ago. Dropped off a patient for me.”
Susan shot past me, towards the back of the morgue.
Framed: A Jarek Grayson Private Detective Novel (Grayson Investigative Services Book 2) Page 13