UNSEEN

by John Michael Hileman

  "All right, Dan. Thank you. We will be speaking to Miss Paris so she may be awhile."

  "Can I come in?" He gripped the door handle.

  "No. Stay put. If I see you anywhere near that building, I'll arrest you for obstruction. Do you understand?"

  His fingers slid off the handle. "I'll just wait here then."

  She left Dan and joined the other officers on the sidewalk. Perez had stood close enough to hear the conversation, but she brought the others up to speed with one sentence. "Holly Paris claims to be here for some kind of cancer screening. Her friend Dan believes she is unaware of the connection between Gary Carter and the clinic."

  They all acknowledge her assessment.

  "Let's go find out what’s really going on."

  Chapter 34

  Gary Carter's office looked official with its L-shaped chestnut desk, black leather office chair, and cushioned visitor chairs. Potted plants adorned chestnut cabinets in each rear corner, and the walls were sparsely decorated with more of the same kind of paintings found in the rest of the building. This surprised Holly. Why would he choose the same style of painting for his office? They had the same outdoor Maine theme with the same heavy brush strokes, the same gold-spec frames. Was Gary responsible for choosing the décor of the clinic? Did he run it?

  If he was the killer, this would make sense. He had pursued a career that allowed him to be a gatekeeper of life, deciding which mothers were fit to have children, and which should be pressured to abort. But running an abortion clinic wasn't enough for him; he had taken his ideology to the furthest extreme. He wasn't content to spare unborn children a life of hardship and pain; he was driven to randomly select living children to rescue from a life of despair, the life he himself was forced to live. But the children were not random. She had come here six years ago and rejected this clinic’s advice to abort her baby. Gary Carter must not have been content with that. Too many mothers must have slipped through his fingers. Too many babies had lived to suffer at the hands of their unfit mothers. It must have eaten at his insides. If his whole identity was locked into saving babies from a long life of pain, it had to kill him when they slipped through his fingers.

  So what was his role at this clinic, Holly wondered, doctor or administrator? Was he directly responsible for executing the procedure that cut the babies from their mother's womb, or did he just facilitate it? Her time was terribly short, but she couldn't leave without knowing.

  Frantically she searched the wall behind his desk and found his medical diploma. There it was. Gary Earl Carter, M.D. Graduate of Tames School of Medicine. How nice. He burned his way through some backwoods medical school and found a place to nest here in Sunbury where he could prey on young women in crisis, all on the government's coin. Her stomach turned at the thought of how many unsuspecting young girls had put themselves in his hands, believing he was helping them out of a sense of compassion, when secretly he hated them.

  She looked at the file cabinets on the right wall. What was in those cabinets? And why did he want to torch them? Did they contain evidence of malpractice? Would she be helping him escape prosecution for the crimes he had committed?

  Was she willing to sacrifice the well-being of other children to save her own? She wished she had just mindlessly done the deed. At least then she would have been oblivious to her crime. But was it too late? She could slide the drawer open and drop the bomb in without looking. She didn't have to carry the guilt of knowing what or whom she had sacrificed to save her child.

  She took the bomb out of her purse, dropped to her knees in front of the bottom right drawer, and clasped the handle. But she couldn't bring herself to open it. A war raged in her heart. But if she did not do this horrible thing, he had promised to kill her son. Her son's life was sitting on a pile of explosives, and her finger was on the button. But she couldn't do it without knowing.

  She yanked the drawer open and rifled through the paperwork. The folders inside contained financial records for the clinic. There were no documents for patients. She opened the next drawer. It was filled with official looking government paperwork. Again, nothing to do with patients. The top drawer had more of the same. Did he want to destroy the financial history of the clinic? Maybe this wasn’t about the children at all. She pushed the top two drawers closed and pulled all the folders in the bottom drawer to the front.

  The bomb was small, and the cabinet made of metal. It was a trade, financial records for the life of her son. She could live with that. She placed the bomb near the rear wall of the drawer, pushed the folders back into place, and shut the cabinet.

  Chapter 35

  Angela Grant moved briskly down the hall with the receptionist in hot pursuit.

  "Is this the one?" she said, pointing to the approaching doorway of examination room A.

  "No, she’s in the next one.”

  Angela turned the corner. "Down here?" she said.

  "Yes, ma'am. Halfway down on the right."

  Angela stepped into the examination room and looked around. "This is the room?"

  "Yes," said the receptionist pushing in behind her. "The nurse said she left her in room B."

  "Well.” She shot the woman an accusing look. "She's not here now. I want the building shut down. No one leaves without my authorization."

  "I'll have to get Dr. Page to approve this."

  "You call whoever you want, but I have a warrant to search these premises and detain any individuals I believe are suspect in this investigation. If you allow Miss Paris to leave this property, I will hold you personally responsible. Got it?"

  The woman looked as if she might pass out. "O- okay." she stammered. "I'll see what I can do." She started to exit the room—then screamed.

  There was another scream from the hallway. Angela pushed past the receptionist and unstrapped the revolver on her belt.

  Holly stood in the hallway squeezing her purse to her chest. Her irises floated in a sea of white.

  Angela released her grip on the revolver. "Miss Paris, what are you doing in the hall?"

  "I had to pee," she squeaked. "I didn't want to have an exam with a full bladder, so I went to look for the bathroom. Why is everyone freaking out?"

  The receptionist was clutching her chest, so Angela put a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you go sit down, and tell Agent Perez we found Miss Paris."

  The woman walked away, looking like she just stepped off a fair ride.

  Holly looked rattled as well. Her brow and top lip were noticeably moist and her body quaked with subtle tremors.

  "Are you all right, Miss Paris?"

  "Y- yes." she said. "Why?"

  "You're sweating and trembling."

  "She scared me half to death!"

  "Being startled doesn't make a person sweat."

  "Yeah—well—I- I'm so nervous about the exam. I don't think I can go through with it."

  Agent Grant watched her closely. Either Holly was telling the truth, or she was an excellent actress. Her neck muscles and eyebrows tightened when she said the word exam which meant the emotion attached to that word was real. She was not happy about taking this exam, but was that the only reason for her heightened emotional state?

  "Come in and have a seat, Holly." Angela moved to the side and let Holly go in and sit down on a chair in the exam room.

  "Why are you here?" Holly asked.

  This was Angela's opportunity to check for motive. If Holly knew Gary's office was in the clinic, she would have no choice but to lie. Admitting that she knew this, but had still come, would be highly suspicious. She had to know that. If she was truly unaware of the connection between Gary and the clinic, her first and uncontrollable response would be shock.

  Angela chose her words carefully. "We believe Gabe’s kidnapper works in this clinic. We are here to search his office."

  There was no shock, not even feigned shock. Holly just looked puzzled.

  "Holly?"

  Her eyes flitted up. "Yes?"

  "Your la
ck of response tells me you had foreknowledge that the suspect in your son's kidnapping works at this facility. What do you have to say about that?"

  "No I didn't," she said.

  "Just now, when I told you we were here to search his office, you showed no signs of surprise or shock."

  "I wasn't shocked," she said.

  "And why is that?"

  "I saw his name on the door across the hall." She pointed.

  It was true. There it was, Gary Carter, written on a plaque in the middle of the door. How had she missed that? "Was that why you were nervous in the hallway?"

  Holly hesitated. "I don't know. Yeah. I guess."

  "Why the hesitation?”

  "I don't know! Why are you grilling me like I'm a suspect? I didn't know Gary worked here, and even if I did, what could I possibly do that you can't do?"

  "Revenge," Agent Grant said, holding her eyes steady on Holly's.

  "What? Kill him? He's holding my son!"

  She had a point. It made no sense for her to come here for revenge. She couldn't kill him, not while her son was still being held somewhere.

  "Then tell me why you're here, across the hall from the man who is holding your son."

  "I have an appointment! It was made before any of this started. Ask the clinic."

  "Before this all started?"

  "Yes," she gasped.

  "And you didn't know Mr. Carter worked here until you came here today?"

  "That's what I'm trying to tell you. Can I go, please?"

  "Go?"

  "Yes. I think I'm going to be sick."

  "What about your exam?"

  "I barely wanted to do it in the first place. Please! Can I go?"

  If she made the appointment before the kidnapping took place, that removed the motive. There was no reason to detain her. "Yes. You're free to go."

  Holly burst from the chair and pushed by. Angela watched her walk briskly down the hall and take the corner. Had she misread the whole situation? Was it only a coincidence? If so, she could understand Holly's fear. This would be the last place Holly would want to be.

  Angela made a quick call to Perez. "Holly is on her way out. Let her go."

  There was a hint of confusion in the way he said, "Okay."

  "Make sure you find out from the office staff when Holly made the appointment at the clinic. If it was before yesterday, she has no motive."

  "I'm on it."

  "And tell our SBI friends to join us in Mr. Carter's office. I want to tear the room apart.”

  Chapter 36

  The friendly hospital receptionist looked up and over her glasses. "May I help you?"

  Jake attempted to relax. "Yes," he said, "I'm looking for a patient—last name Thomas."

  "When was she admitted?"

  "Today," he said.

  She clicked some buttons and scanned her screen. "Pamela Thomas?"

  "Yes. Yes, that’s it."

  "Are you a relative?"

  "I'm her brother." He immediately regretted the response. It was probably a bad idea to lie to a woman with the resources of a computer in front of her. He had no idea what kind of information they kept on those things. It would have been safer to say no and have to search the maternity ward than give a suspicious answer and have security escort him off the premises.

  "She’s in room 814. Take the elevators to the eighth floor and follow the hallway to the nurses’ station. You can check in there."

  "Right. Eighth floor. Thank you." He hid his relief, and crossed over the hall to the elevators. It felt as if every eye in the entire lobby was glued on him. It wasn't true of course, but inward guilt has a way of toying with one's perceptions.

  The elevator doors opened, and he herded onto it with other visitors and squeezed toward the back. It was a short trip, and by the time he reached the eighth floor, the elevator was empty.

  Ding. The doors slid open and he stepped out into the corridor. Everything was quiet. To his right was the waiting room where he noted an old couple, a young man by himself, and a father with his two children. There were no pregnant women, so Jake took a left down the hall. Immediately he saw a set of double doors with a Restricted Area sign on it.

  Standing in front of the doors was a three-year-old in blond pigtails with a mixture of shock and excitement on her face. She turned and ran through the doors—without opening them.

  Jake made a quick check to see if anyone was looking, then walked briskly to the doors. He peeked through the window to see that the corridor beyond was empty, then pushed through and walked down to where the hall turned right. He could hear giggling coming from the next hallway, so he slowed and carefully peered around the bend.

  Four children stood staring at him.

  "See! Is him!" squealed the girl in pigtails. "He-ah in da hossible!"

  An olive-skinned two-year-old boy standing next to her smiled a crooked smile, while a pair of twin girls behind them hopped and clapped.

  Jake took a step back to avoid being seen; the children came around the corner. He crouched down. "You guys know me?"

  "Yah,” said the pigtailed-girl. "We know you. Yaw Inas dod."

  Jake cocked his head. "I'm what?"

  The olive-skinned boy put his hand on Jake's arm. "Yaw wam."

  The twins came around and touched his skin too. He felt like the subject of a lab experiment with their little fingers rubbing and poking.

  "Do any of you have a message for me? Something you're supposed to tell me?"

  The girl in pigtails said, "I don’ ting day memmer yet. Day happy cos day nevaw tauch stuff."

  "But do you remember?" he asked.

  She nodded enthusiastically.

  "How do you know me?"

  "Some ov us know eesh ovor befaw."

  "Before what?"

  "Befaw we lef."

  "Left where?” He looked at her intently. "You were somewhere before you came here?"

  "Yah, but nawt wong."

  "Do you know what that place was?"

  "No. I don’ know it."

  "But—you remember it."

  "Yup."

  "Are you here to help me?"

  "No, I don’ ting so."

  "Then why are you here?"

  She appeared confused by the question. "Cos you c’n see me."

  "But why? Why can I see you? And not anyone else?"

  "I don’ know."

  "Think hard. Try to remember."

  A black woman in baby blue scrubs came around the corner. The children all backed up. Jake blinked up at her, innocently.

  "Can I help you, sir?"

  How was he going to explain crouching and talking to himself in a restricted area of the maternity ward? This was it, they’d kick him out for sure.

  "I'm sorry, I felt sick,” he said, slowly getting to his feet.

  "Mmm-hmmm," she said, with a curl of her lip. Her arms came up and folded across her chest. "And who are you here with?"

  Out of sheer desperation, he said, "Pamela Thomas."

  She gave a suspicious squint. "You're Mr. Thomas?"

  "Yeah."

  "Your wife's not even in here yet."

  That was good news, and bad. Bad because it didn't explain why he was acting squeamish in the hall, but good that she wasn't in a nearby room in labor. He could only imagine the look on his neighbor's face if the nurse had dragged him into the room while she was giving birth.

  "Where is she?" he asked, hoping she would avoid addressing the elephant in the room.

  Suddenly one of the twins let out a piercing screech that sent Jake's soul bouncing off the wall. His eyes opened wide as he stood rigid before the nurse. Somewhere around the corner another scream filled the air.

  The girl screeched again and her eyes got big. "I think I'm comin’ OUT!"

  The nurse took a step back.

  "I AM! I'm comin’ out! Push, Momma! Puuuuuuuush!" cried the little girl. Her sister started hopping and clapping.

  There was another scream and a
loud groan from down the hall.

  "Your wife is in her room, Mr. Thomas." The nurse pointed back toward the double doors. "But you're going to have to go around. I don't want to see you in this hall again, unless you're with your wife, understand?"

  Jake started backing up. "Yes, ma'am. Thanks."

  The twins ran down the hall, followed by the other children. Jake could hear the little girl continue her excited screams. "Push, Momma! You c’n do it! I'm comin’ out! I'm comin’ OUT!"

  Jake left the restricted area. His options were dwindling. These children didn’t have any answers for him, they were just as confused as he was about the whole situation. He could see them, and they could experience things while he was around, but to them it was just a weird experience. They weren't supernatural messengers. They had no connection to some ethereal world where information could be acquired by some extrasensory ability. They were simply children waiting to be born, and somehow, when he was near, they could experience a taste of the world around them. Aiyana had mentioned not being able to see anything he couldn't see. Why then had all the children run down the hallway to watch the birth? How would they see it, if Jake wasn't seeing it?

  There was only one way to get more answers, and that was to travel deeper into the bowels of the maternity ward and find Aiyana. She was older than the other children and much more articulate. His chances of getting meaningful answers lay with her.

  Chapter 37

  Holly got into the driver's side of her car and slammed the door. Her body quaked as she gripped the steering wheel and tried to pull herself together. She needed something to numb the pain. She couldn't do this anymore. It was too much. She had to ditch Dan and her roommate and get to her pills.

  Dan studied her. "You all right?"

  "No. I'm not all right." She clutched the keys and started the car with force. "I'm about as not all right as I've ever been in my life!"

  The tires spun on the dirt as she pulled out.

  "Woah. Slow down speed racer. Those are police officers over there. You want me to drive?"