by J. L. Drake
David laughed and pressed the button for the basement. “At least we’re brightening their day.”
“I guess you could call it that,” Croce said with a snort.
The elevator came to a shuddering halt and the door opened. They stepped out onto the tiled floor of the dimly lit corridor.
“Why do they always light these places like this?” Croce asked. “It makes things seem creepy.”
“You haven’t met many medical examiners, have you?” David asked, looking at the woman sideways. “They feel more comfortable in the dim light.”
They paused and peered through a large window looking in on a utilitarian room sporting lots of stainless steel. In the middle of the room was a slightly overweight, balding man standing over a dead body lying on the table in front of him. He spoke aloud while pulling out organs and weighing them.
“You’re right,” Croce said. “He does seem to be at ease here.”
McCoy looked at her and nodded.
“Let’s ask him some questions,” he said.
He walked over to the closed door of the morgue room and pushed a small button on the intercom in the wall.
The medical examiner’s head shot up and he looked at them with a frown. He raised his hand in a “one minute” gesture and continued doing what he was in the middle of before turning off the recorder, taking off his mask and gloves, and washing his hands. He then made his way over to the door and let them in.
“Can I help you?” he asked, glancing from McCoy to Croce.
“I’m Agent David McCoy from the FBI,” he said, flashing his badge. “This is Agent Hannah Croce. We have some questions for you…” He paused, waiting for the man to give his name.
“Miles Gardner,” he said.
“Thank you,” David said. “We have some questions for you, Mr. Gardner, and need to take a look at your records for the past month.”
Miles frowned. “I’ll answer all the questions you want, but don’t you need a search warrant, or court order for the records?”
David reached into his jacket, pulled out a folded white piece of paper, and handed it to Miles.
He took it and opened it, scanning it quickly.
“It seems you have everything in order,” Miles said, handing the paper back. “Come on in.”
David nodded and stepped through the door; Miles backed up to allow him to enter.
Croce stepped inside as well, before the door was closed again.
“Mr. Gardner,” David started, “have you been approached by anyone interested in acquiring or disposing of human organs?”
“No,” Miles said, sitting down in the rolling chair in front of his desk and folding his arms. He didn’t sit squarely on the chair and it almost roll out from under him, but he grabbed it right away. He scooted onto the chair better and refolded his arms.
David watched the man and noticed that he didn’t flinch at the idea or ask why. He’d just answered no and became nervous.
Interesting, he thought, frowning.
“You don’t seem surprised at the question,” he said, watching the medical examiner.
“What else would the FBI want to ask about at a morgue?” Miles retorted, glancing around the room. “It’s not like there’s much else here.”
Croce snickered.
McCoy wasn’t convinced it was that simple.
“Where are your records?” he asked.
Miles stood up quickly, sending the chair he’d been sitting on sliding across the room only to be stopped when it slammed into another piece of metal furniture.
The loud clang in the sparse room was almost deafening and they all cringed.
“Sorry,” Miles muttered as he pulled the top drawer of his filing cabinet open. “I do that a lot.”
Croce caught David’s attention and rolled her eyes; he smirked.
Miles withdrew a small stack of files and handed them to David.
“Is this all of them?” David asked, frowning at the pile, which was smaller than he’d expected.
“Yes, that’s all of them,” Miles answered, scratching his bald head.
McCoy glanced over at Croce and raised one of his eyebrows.
Croce nodded and walked past Miles to check the files in the filing cabinet to make sure nothing was being omitted. She nodded at McCoy, coming back over to stand beside him as he looked through the files in his hands.
“Thank you for your time,” David said, and handed the files back to Miles. “You have a good day.”
Croce frowned in confusion. The questioning at the last hospital had taken a lot longer than this one, and they’d kept the files until they could make copies at the administration office of the other hospitals. She couldn’t figure out why he’d just handed them back to the medical examiner. She knew better than to voice her concerns in front of the man they were questioning though.
“No problem,” Miles said, putting the files away and closing the drawer.
“We’ll show ourselves out,” David said, walked over to the door, opened it, and exited; Croce followed him, still frowning.
Neither of them spoke until they were in the elevator.
“What’s going on?” Croce asked. “You didn’t make copies of the files or even read them—we didn’t collect evidence. And you didn’t ask many questions.”
“Something feels off,” David said. “We’re going to the security center to see if he’s had any visitors. Hospitals have cameras in hallways and elevators.” He pointed to a corner of the ceiling, and for the first time, Croce saw a small camera lens there. “We can see what he’s been up to. If he was smuggling parts we’ll be able to see it, even if he’s been using the ambulance delivery entrance.”
“Nice,” Croce said.
David nodded. “I’ll bet the security cameras have caught something.”
When they stepped off the elevator on the main floor, they headed back to the reception desk, where they were given directions to the security center.
“Now they’ll really be talking,” Croce mumbled as they headed to their new destination.
“Let them talk,” David said, hoping they would find something on the tapes that would confirm his hunch that something illegal was happening on the premises.
He checked his phone again as they moved along the hallways, turning every now and again to follow the signs to the emergency room, which the security office was located beside.
As soon as they entered the emergency room, they felt like they’d been transported to an entirely different world; people were running everywhere and there was a lot of noise.
“Over there,” Croce said loud enough to be heard over the din, pointing to a closed door in the corner that said: SECURITY.
David nodded and headed that way with Croce at his heels. As they reached the door and David raised his fist to knock, it flew open and a young man in a security uniform almost ran into them.
“Oh, shit!” the man exclaimed, clutching his chest. “I didn’t know you guys were there.” He looked back and forth between the two. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes,” David said, “but it’s a private matter. We need to come inside and speak with you.”
“Uh, sure,” the man said, “but I need to run to the bathroom really quick and can’t leave you in the office by yourselves. Can you wait just a sec?” He looked from one to the other as he sidled between them, heading for the bathroom. “I’ll be right back—I swear.”
The door to the security office went shut on its own.
McCoy and Croce looked at the door, then at each other, and nodded.
“Great!” the security guard exclaimed, and made a mad dash for the bathroom that was right around a corner.
David reached over to the door and gripped the knob, trying to turn it.
“Locked,” he muttered, and let it go.
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Croce asked. “You wouldn’t want just anyone walking in…” She motioned around the room to prove
her point.
David nodded. He knew tight security was a good thing, he was just eager to view the tapes and see if he could find out if anything was going on. Time was running short, and so was his patience.
Chapter 38
Sonya woke up and got ready for work like she did every morning. Her thoughts were still on the story from the previous night. She was actually shocked she hadn’t had bad dreams. Even though she was upset about Butch and the way he was playing everyone, she was happy she’d finally told Lloyd the entire story of her past.
As she was sitting in her driveway, waiting for the garage door to close before she headed off to the hospital, she thought about how loving and protective Lloyd had been toward her through the night. He’d even stayed to hold her until she’d fallen asleep. She believed that was why she hadn’t had nightmares.
With a wistful sigh, she pulled out onto the road and headed off to work. She didn’t want to go, and wished she could call in and quit. She couldn’t risk it though, since that might raise a red flag if the feds were searching the hospitals, which she knew they would. Like she’d told Jan—they usually searched the morgues first. She just hoped Miles had covered his tracks well and there was nothing to find when they came snooping. She had to talk to him, and that made going to work worth it, if she made it in time.
The drive to the hospital flew by as she worried over Miles and his nervous attitude. She hoped she’d get to reassure him and calm him down before he had to go through any questioning. She’d thought about calling to warn him again, but with Roger flipping out on her and the bank escapade the previous day, she’d never gotten a chance other than that one brief call. She hadn’t been confident in his ability to handle anything from that conversation.
She pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and took her phone out of her pocket, thinking about texting Lloyd to tell him how much she loved him. She frowned when she realized she hadn’t turned it on. With a sigh, she remedied that error and jumped as her phone made all kinds of noises, telling her that she had multiple missed calls and voice mail messages, as well as texts.
She glanced at the clock in the corner of the device’s screen and shook her head. She didn’t have time to check them all at that moment, because she needed to clock in and be on her floor in a couple of minutes.
She climbed out of her car, slipping her phone into the front pocket of her scrubs shirt, and slammed the door shut behind herself. She started jogging across the parking lot, heading for the emergency room door, since it was the closest entrance to the nurse’s locker room and the elevator she needed to take.
The emergency room was a minefield of noise blasts and clustered people—as always. Sonya rushed in through the automatic doors that almost didn’t open fast enough to allow her admittance, just as a security guard came around a corner—she almost collided with him.
“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, smiling broadly. “I’m running a little behind.”
He laughed. “That’s okay. I don’t mind being attacked by a beautiful woman.”
She smiled, shook her head, tucked a few stray strands of blonde hair behind her ear, and continued down the hall.
***
“Thanks for waiting,” the security guard said to McCoy and Croce, still grinning like an idiot from his encounter with the beautiful blonde nurse.
“No problem,” David said, smiling at the man. His thoughts had been wandering while they’d been waiting, and the man had startled him.
“Come on in,” the security guard invited as he unlocked the door and opened it. He held it open for his guests. “What can I do for you?”
David waited until the door had gone closed behind them before he answered.
“I’m Agent David McCoy and this is Agent Hannah Croce with the FBI,” he paused and flashed his badge, “and we’re investigating a case involving organ harvesting and sales on the black market. I have reason to believe something illegal might have gone through the morgue of this hospital. I need to look at the security videos you have for the elevator that goes to the basement and any nearby hallways.”
The security guard’s eyes went wide as he looked at the badge and listened to what David had to say.
“Uh, sure,” he said, and sat down in a chair behind a bank of computers and security monitors. “I don’t have all the info here, but I can remotely access the company’s main system and get the digital recordings, if you’d like.”
“That would be great,” David said, stepping up behind the young man.
“Do you know what day you’re looking for?” the security guard asked.
“No, I don’t,” David said. “I just know it was sometime in the last month—possibly this past week. What’s your name, kid?”
“Sorry,” the young man said. “I’m Adam Shears.”
“Nice to meet you, Adam,” David said. “You seem pretty good at this. Do you have experience with computers?”
Adam shrugged. “A little. I used to do a lot of gaming and stuff when I was in school.”
David nodded. He knew that most of the younger generations had a lot more experience and comfort with technology. He didn’t feel threatened by it like most of the men he worked with who were his age and older. Instead, he often requested a few of the younger agents be added to the teams he headed because he knew that if he used their skills and abilities correctly, they could be great assets, like Agent Limmon.
“How long will it take to pull up the feed?” David asked.
“Not long,” Adam said, typing swiftly on the keyboard, entering passwords and verification codes to obtain the access he needed. “Ah, got it!”
David smiled as black and white images from security cameras appeared on the main monitor.
“Now all we have to do is determine who’s there that shouldn’t be,” he said, as he watched people enter and exit the elevator. Most of the people were transporting bodies on gurneys, covered completely with sheets. “I’m assuming those are people who died here, correct?”
Adam didn’t answer verbally—he just nodded. He was fast forwarding through the feeds of four cameras at once: one was inside the elevator that went down to the morgue; one was in the hall leading to the elevator upstairs; one was in the hall leading to the elevator downstairs; and the other was the one leading to the entrance of the morgue from outside. There were many people in each feed. He knew they were looking for people who didn’t seem like they belonged there, but he knew that could be a daunting task with the volume of traffic a morgue usually had.
“This is going to take a while,” Croce said, and sighed.
Adam and David jumped. They’d been so intently focused on the screen that they’d forgotten she was in the room.
David’s phone beeped and vibrated as he received a text; he stood up to look at it.
Agent Limmon: Found her!
Another text arrived just as David read the message—it was a picture of an attractive woman with Bill Housen outside the bar. They had security cameras hidden in the parking lot.
Adam stopped the video, squinted at the screen.
“What about her?” he asked, pointing at the computer.
David looked at the screen to see the same woman whose picture had just been sent to his phone, except the one on the screen had light hair and eyes. “Yeah, we’re looking for her.” He held his phone out for Croce to look at and he heard her gasp. “Does she work down there? She doesn’t have anything with her and is using a cell phone.”
“Odd,” Adam said, clicking a few buttons, pausing the feed on the screen when she tilted her head back to stretch her neck. He frowned. “I don’t know who she is, or why she’s going down there. She looks like a nurse though…I know she’s here today, if you want to talk to her.”
“How do you know she’s here if you don’t know who she is?” Croce asked, stepping up beside McCoy.
Adam looked over his shoulder at Croce and said, “I almost crashed into her when I came out of the bathroom. Didn�
��t you see her come in through the emergency room doors?”
McCoy and Croce looked at each other and shrugged; neither of them had noticed her.
“Can you find out where she works, and what she does?” David asked.
“Um, I don’t know,” Adam said. “There are five floors and multiple wings to the hospital; it could take days or weeks to go through all the feeds to find her.”
“Is there anyone we could ask about the hospital staff?” David asked. “Surely there’s some kind of nurse staffing supervisor…”
Adam frowned. “You could talk to the head nurse, I guess—she knows everyone, or so it seems. She won’t be here for another…” He paused to glance up from the monitor to the clock hanging on the wall. “…fifteen minutes or so.”
“Great,” David said, and dragged his hands through his hair. “I guess we’ll wait, unless we want to search floor by floor—that would take all day.”
“How long do the nurse’s shifts usually last?” Croce asked.
“Anywhere from eight hours to twelve plus,” Adam said. “If she’s just coming in to work, we have plenty of time.”
“While we wait, go through some more feed to see how many times she’s been down there and how long she visited each time,” David said. “Croce…”
“Yeah,” she said, stepping forward.
“Stay here with Adam and make note of the woman’s movements,” he said. “I’m going to go watch the elevator in case she decides to go down there today. If she is involved in something illegal that’s going on in the morgue, I’m sure the medical examiner will have told her we’ve been there. And if he hasn’t, maybe she’ll try to sneak down and talk shop.”
“I’ll call or text you if we find anything important,” Croce said, nodded, and smiled.
“I’ll do the same,” David said before he headed out the door.
***
David left the security office and headed toward the elevator he and Croce had taken to the morgue a short time ago. When he arrived at his destination, he was pleased to see no one was there. The absence of people would give him a few minutes to check out the area and try to find a place to watch the doors without being as noticeable. He was pleased to find that down the hall—just beyond the elevators—there was a room that branched off to the left; it looked like a small waiting room. He entered the room and sat in one of the chairs along the far wall, and discovered that he had a clear view of the elevator.