Tugging the zipper in place, he arranged the bear against her side and glanced at his watch. "I need to get out of here before someone sees me and you need to rest."
Rest? That’s all she managed to accomplish for the past day. At her look of protest, he held up a hand.
"I know you have been doing nothing but resting for twenty-four hours, but that was drug-induced. You need real sleep. Peter, April and I are tag-teaming to watch your room. We won’t let anything happen to you."
He snatched a fast food bag off the nightstand and crumpled it in his hands. Grabbing a plastic cup filled with soda, he turned to leave. "It is important that you pretend to still be drugged. Feign sleep, do not talk to the nurses or anyone and whatever you do, do not get out of that bed."
She wanted to protest. Who was he to give her orders? She needed to find Molly. But in the end, she knew he was right.
The door whispered closed in his wake. He left without saying goodbye.
#
Peter swiped his palms down the legs of his jeans, hoping to eliminate a little of the dampness that clung to his skin. His stomach clenched tight.
Ben seemed genuine and he could usually detect inherent goodness in people. Ben dripped it in spades. He had been nothing but nice to Peter: befriending him, listening to him, praising him. So why did the idea of divulging his findings to the man make him so nervous?
Simple.
April.
He didn’t want her harmed in any way and if his plan backfired and something happened to him, he wouldn’t be able to protect her.
The thought terrified him. More moisture oozed from his pores.
With firm resolve, he brushed the notion aside. Ben would help. The guard could have easily turned him in last night after catching him red-handed leaving the drug supply room. But he hadn’t. Instead, he readily agreed to help with Rachel and even applauded Peter’s plan.
Sucking up his courage, he approached the security office. Ben looked up and smiled when he spotted him in the doorway.
"Hey, Pete. What’s up?"
Warmness seeped through him. No one had ever called him Pete before. Ben gave him a real nickname. Not one of the derogatory ones mean people called him, like Scarface.
"I-I…" He stopped, cleared his throat, swallowed and tried again. "I thought we could go get a cup of coffee." He made a vague gesture with his hand. "You know, at a shop down the street."
Ben didn’t need any other explanation. "I get off in half an hour. I’ll meet you in the lobby."
Peter walked back to his room, the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders. He finally found someone he could confide in, someone he could trust.
#
Ben smiled at the aging waitress as she poured steaming coffee into his overturned mug. "Thanks, Fern," he said, reading the name off the small square tag pinned above her left breast. Peter automatically turned his scarred face away and his heart squeezed.
After a purred, "Let me know if I can get you anything else," followed by a wink at him, she sashayed away.
He inhaled the comforting aroma and sipped the brew, savoring the path it burned down his throat. He studied Peter over the rim of his cup, intrigued with the boy’s obvious apprehension. He looked as nervous as a mouse facing a pack of starving cats.
Peter shifted on the red vinyl bench and wrapped his palms around the mug in front of him. He waited, letting the boy gather his courage and speak on his own terms.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Sure, Pete. You can tell me anything."
"This is big. Really big." Peter shifted again and his gaze flicked around the nearly deserted coffee shop.
Fern stood behind the counter in her pink waitress uniform, chatting with an older man perched on a stool eating a piece of apple pie. Neither paid any attention to the two men drinking coffee in the booth in the corner.
"Peter." He waited until the boy looked him in the eye. "You can talk to me."
"I mean, this is big, like super-duper huge. I mean really bi—"
"Peter."
Peter’s brows puckered and he studied the table. His thumbnail scratched at an imaginary speck on the surface. "I’ve never had a friend before. Life has taught me that you can’t trust anyone." There was a pause while he absently traced initials someone had carved into the scarred wood. "But I want to trust you."
"Pete, look at me." When the man’s eyes met his, he said honestly, "I know you’ve been dealt a raw deal, but you haven’t let it defeat you. You are smart and kind. You need to know there are people out there you can trust. I’m one of those people."
Peter stared at him for a moment measuring his sincerity. He nodded but it still took him a minute to speak. "Something bad is happening at the hospital."
Instantly alert, he shoved his mug aside. "What do you mean ‘bad’?"
"People are disappearing, vanishing in the middle of the night, never to be seen again."
"Tell me what you know."
"First, I don’t want you to think bad of me, that I haven’t done something before. I did…or at least I tried." Peter made a helpless gesture, looking defeated. "I phoned in an anonymous tip to the authorities but it didn’t do any good. They didn’t believe me."
Well, what do you know? Ben inwardly grinned. His call did much more good than Peter imagined. It prompted him to quit his job with the Bureau when his superiors refused to investigate. He decided to follow up personally and uncover the truth. He needed to let Peter know he wasn’t alone but debated how much to tell the other man. He held off for the moment.
"I’ve got a few contacts in law enforcement. I can talk to them but you have to tell me what you know."
Peter explained in detail everything he discovered. Girls disappeared at an alarming rate, some after a few hours, some days later. Once he realized a pattern, he began to keep a list.
"The interesting aspect that ties all of them together is that each girl roomed with April when they vanished."
Ben’s back slammed against the leather booth. All of them were April’s roommates? He knew Kimmie and Donelle and Molly had shared April’s space, but it never dawned on him that every one of the missing women had resided with her.
Rachel was April’s roommate.
He had to get her out of there. Fast. His mind raced, sorting through ways to make her leave. He could just tie her up, throw her over his shoulder and lock her away until he solved the case.
Of course, she would hate him and that made him frown.
Peter started talking again, snapping him from his thoughts. "Not all of April’s roommates disappear. Some are moved to other rooms, like Harley."
Ben couldn’t mask his surprise. Harley once shared a room with April? He checked her out after her complaint sent Rachel to isolation. That woman would eat April for breakfast.
"I’ve given this a lot of thought," Peter continued. "I believe the reason they take the girls from April’s room is that they think she is completely under the influence of drugs, that she is out of it and doesn’t realize what is going on under her nose." He paused and then added sadly, "For a long time, she didn’t."
Ben could see the emotions swirling through Peter’s eyes. He cared deeply for April.
"She’s not taking drugs anymore but the doctors and nurses don’t know that."
Suddenly everything became clear. "You are responsible for getting April clean, aren’t you?"
A crimson splotch tinged Peter’s unmarred cheek. He nodded and studied his cup. "She was wasting away, mentally and physically. The drugs would have killed her eventually. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing."
"You know what you are, Peter?"
With a puzzled look, he shook his head. "No, what?"
"You are a hero."
"Me, no," he scoffed, scarlet now spreading to the roots of his hair.
"Yes you are," Ben insisted. "You saved April’s life and didn’t hesitate to get involved and rescue Rachel. You put yourself on the li
ne and that is the mark of a true hero." He made an instant decision. "You trusted me, confided in me…I’m going to do the same with you."
Peter crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward, his alert gaze focused on Ben.
"You know that call you made to the federal hot line?"
Peter nodded.
"That’s why I’m here."
Peter’s mouth rounded. "You are an FBI agent?"
"Shhh," he admonished, wincing. He snuck a peek at Fran, who was busy filing her nails, thankfully ignoring the outburst.
"Sorry," Peter apologized. He lowered his voice. "Are you really an agent?"
"Yes…or I was," he corrected. "I followed up on your tip and thought it merited an investigation, but my superiors didn’t agree. My brother recently opened a private security firm and he’s been hassling me to join him. The timing was right, so I quit the Bureau and accepted his offer."
"So you are doing this on your own time?"
He nodded.
"I don’t have much money, but I can pay a little—"
"I would never take your money," he interrupted insistently. Besides, Arthur Michaels’ hefty signing bonus took care of that issue. "But I will use your help. What do you say…partners?"
Peter gawked at his outstretched hand. "You want my help?"
"Absolutely."
He smiled unabashedly and pumped Ben’s hand with enthusiasm. "Partners."
Ben grinned. "The FBI is monitoring the situation indirectly." He explained his ex-partner’s covert involvement.
Dropping a few dollars on the table to cover the bill and tip, they left the diner and walked back to the Institute. Peter stopped abruptly.
"I almost forgot to tell you. It’s not just girls that disappear. Men do, too."
Chapter Sixteen
April’s eyes popped open and she froze. A shaft of light bounced off the wall in front of her. With her back to the door, she couldn’t see who entered. Careful not to make a sound, she feigned sleep, dreading the sounds she knew would surely follow.
They were taking the new girl.
Her heart pounded so hard against her chest, she feared they would hear it. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. It thundered in her ears like a tribal drum.
She couldn’t let them know she was awake and coherent but she had to do something. Sheets rustled and then a dull thud followed by a low moan. Metal wheels squeaked a protest. She waited until the light faded before throwing the blanket aside, rushing to the door and cracking it open. Praying for a break, she eased her head outside in time to see the stairwell door drift closed. Then she heard the telltale ding. The service elevator. Tiptoeing to the exit, she watched the arrow point downward. It stopped in the basement.
God, she had to do something. Peter. He would know exactly what to do now.
Racing back to her room, she whipped off her electronic bracelet and tossed it on the dresser. Peter fixed it so she could remove it whenever necessary. Quickly she arranged pillows on the bed and pulled the covers over them. They would think she was asleep if anyone checked. Hurrying to the closet, she pried up the board and stuck her hand inside, feeling around until she located the key Peter made for her.
Ignoring her bare feet she hurried to the stairwell and opened the lock. She pushed through the door and flew down the stairs, checking for any other person before she dashed into the basement.
She had never been down here and the dark made her anxious, but she fought off the nerves. Recalling the directions Peter made her memorize, she eased her way along the shadowy, dank corridor to his small room.
She rapped lightly and then harder when he didn’t answer. Where could he be?
She started to tremble. She didn’t know what to do. On the verge of weeping, she barely managed to suppress a scream when a voice called her name. She whirled to see Peter hurrying forward, his hair wet, a bag and towel in hand. Checking the hall behind him, he herded her into his room.
"April, what are you doing here?" He noticed her shaking. "April?" He wrapped her in his arms, his hand stroking her hair as her cheek rested against his chest. This is where she belonged. In Peter’s arms.
"They took her," she cried.
"Took who? Rachel?"
She shook her head. "No, when I returned to my room this morning I had a new roommate. Dora. They came and got her tonight and I followed them."
He jerked back, his hands gripping her upper arms. "You what?"
Her chin lifted. "I followed them to find out where they were taking her."
"You could have been caught. They could have seen you." His voice broke as he crushed her to his chest again. "God, April, you could have been hurt."
Her defiance melted at his obvious alarm. "But they didn’t see me. I’m fine," she insisted. "It’s Dora I’m worried about."
They stood wrapped in each other's arms, neither wanting to break the hold. Finally Peter said, "Did you see who took her?"
"My back was to the door and then the elevator closed before I could get there."
Inching back, she placed a palm where her head had rested on his chest. "What do we do, Peter? We can’t stand by while another girl vanishes off the face of the earth."
"I know exactly what to do."
"I knew you would."
#
Peter tucked a protesting April safely in her bed and then made his way to the top floor. His legs shook and he had to grab the rail for support.
When she told him that she followed the criminals, he almost lost his dinner. She could have been caught…they might have snatched her, too.
If she disappeared, he would never recover.
She improved by leaps and bounds every day. Soon she would be healthy enough to leave the hospital and strike out on her own. He didn’t know how he would do it, but he would have to let her go. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe. But if you love it, set it free, wasn’t that how the saying went?
He rapped lightly on the door and waited. He heard a muffled, "Just a second." Less than a minute later, the door whipped open.
"Hey, Pete. What’s up?" Ben scratched his bare chest and yawned, his eyes half-lidded. Hair stood at odd angles as if he just got out of bed and ran his hand through it, which he probably had, Peter thought. He hated to wake him but this was important.
"I know it’s late but it’s a matter of life or death."
All traces of sleep erased, Ben stepped back. "Come in."
Peter shook his head. "We don’t have time. They took another one. They took April’s roommate."
#
For the second time in as many days, spots swam in front of Ben’s eyes and he realized it was because he had literally stopped breathing. Forcing out an exhale, he croaked, "Rachel?"
"No, a new girl."
He knew he shouldn’t feel relieved. Knew another female might very well be in grave danger. Knew Rachel had been moved to a private room. But he couldn’t help it. His shoulders slumped in relief. He listened as Peter recounted the details.
"April pretended to be in a drugged sleep and then she got up and followed them."
"She what?"
"I know," Peter concurred. "I can’t believe she did it, either. But she saw them wheel the woman into the freight elevator at the end of the hall and then descend to the basement."
Ben worked the details through his head. After Peter’s stunning revelation that men also vanished, they determined that they had all been Gary’s roommates.
Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. "That’s why they use April and Gary’s rooms as the pass-through. Not only are they both heavily sedated, but they conveniently reside at the end of the only wing with a service elevator."
Peter’s eyes widened. "I never even realized," he said, clearly disappointed in himself as his voice trailed off.
"That’s because we didn’t know where they were taking the patients. I didn’t catch it either, Pete."
Peter shrugged, clearly not convinced he shouldn’t hav
e figured it out.
"I’ll give Jake a call first thing in the morning, see if I can get some cameras to plant on that elevator."
"I’m pretty good with computers," Peter said not the least bit boastfully. "I can program them to input to my computer."
"That would be a huge help."
Peter basked in his encouragement.
"I need to scour the basement right now and see if I can find anything."
"I’ll go with you," Peter said. "Besides, my room is down there. I know the layout."
#
"This isn’t Kellie Mead."
"She was in the room with the Collins girl," the man replied lazily.
"Could you not see that you had the wrong girl?"
The man shrugged nonchalantly.
Incompetents, all of them. If something needed to be done, you could count on no one but yourself.
The original plan had been to get her two nights ago but for some reason, she hadn’t been in her room. Then they were going to try for last night, but due to extenuating circumstances, had to postpone until tonight.
"I don’t even know who this girl is, do you?"
"How the hell would I know? You told me to go get the next one and I did. It’s not my fault it’s the wrong girl."
The lug-head was right. It wasn’t his fault. But it was someone’s fault.
That person would pay.
Chapter Seventeen
“I’ve looked around the basement but not in depth. Give me the layout."
"It’s primarily used for storage," Peter explained. "Three large storage areas—one for furniture and beds, one for bulk cleaning supplies and one for the kitchen - take up most of the space. There is a large walk-in freezer next to a loading dock, a laundry, a medical records storage room, one bathroom and my room."
"I remember seeing a feed for security cameras."
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