Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
The fog in my brain from a few moments ago vanishes when Allison hits freakout mode.
“Easy now.” I block her exit, wanting to have a handle on this before she goes blasting off into the hallway. “What’s a Rosalie?”
She tries to push me aside. Pointless.
“I might as well be trying to move a pyramid in Egypt. Ugh, move. I have to hurry.”
“Slowdown, Trigger. You need to bring me up to speed. We’re a team now. What is Rosalie?”
She frowns at me.
“A team? Remember?” Tilting my head, I feel myself scowling and try to relax. “Babe. I don’t want to see you upset. Start talking, let me help.”
She gives herself a little shake. “Right, we are a team. I think. I mean, this idea is so novel.”
Nodding, I take her hands in mine. “Tell me.”
“Rosalie is a woman, not a thing. A scientist, a totally badass one. We’re tight. She analyzes rock samples for me. And the only way he could have my sample is if my father got to her. Now it makes sense—why he started acting like a monster—he knows what that rock is and what it’s worth.”
A dawning awareness takes over her expression.
“Oh, my god. It all makes sense now. He knows. That bastard. Now I understand why he’s after me.”
Anger works its way up my spine. “So, this is about some kind of rock?”
“I don’t know exactly why yet, but this has to be why he started acting like he is. Now I just need to figure out what’s behind this. But first, we have to find out if Rosalie is safe and if not, we have to go get her.”
Her magnetic force is impossible to ignore.
Leaning in, I plant a kiss on her temple. “Love your brain, Ally. I copy all that. This is really fucking good news. Let’s go talk to my brother, he’s probably in a room by now. Then we’ll go catch your father at whatever nefarious shit he’s up to. Don’t worry, we’ll find this Rosalie and make sure she’s safe.”
“Okay. Okay, I like it.” Before I can move, Allison grabs me in a hug. Those slender arms are strong for their size. Nose buried against my chest, she murmurs, “You’re going to make peace with your brother?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. Things need to be said. I don’t know if we’ll make peace, but we should talk. He might not be up for it now, but while you were sleeping I realized I had to let go of things. When he’s ready to talk, I’ll be there to make it happen.”
Leaning back, she takes a beat to search my expression. “The depth of your character makes it hard for me to breathe sometimes.”
Well. Hell. Emotion surges into my throat. “I’m not that complicated. But we’ve also got a lot to talk about, Doc.”
“Roger that.” The corners of her pretty lips tip. “I’m not sure why I said that like something you would like.”
Crazy how often she makes a broken man laugh. “Just fucking cute.”
This time when she pushes me, I let her.
“Come on. Let’s get the walk of shame part over. I’m okay now.”
Justice, armed and ready, has a sheepish look when we step out.
I throw him a keep-your-fucking-mouth-shut glare. “She’s on a mission to find out if her friend is okay.”
Justice makes a noise as his boots thump on the tile behind us. “Is she pretty?”
Allison doesn’t stop—the woman is a freight train blasting down the long corridor. But she’s quick with her reply. "Spoken like a true bachelor."
"Just making conversation." There's that playful lilt in his voice
“And she’s not blonde by the way.”
Justice wings a look at me, and I shrug. “So, I told her you have a type.”
“Dude, that’s guy convo.”
This time, Allison throws us both a glance over her shoulder. "Focus, guys. We’ve got our work cut out for us. We need to see your brother, find Rosalie, and figure out what my father is doing with that sample."
That freight train with the squishing boots and the cute ass is moving so quickly she almost collides with a nurse.
My alarm system goes into high alert. Hair disheveled, hands waving, the woman is breathless. “Mr. Reese! Mr. Reese!”
Pushing Allison behind me, I sandwich her between me and Justice. “Yes, that’s me. Is there a problem?”
“Is your brother in the room you were in?”
Fuck. Worry and anger coil up like a snake. No matter what this is about, it isn’t good.
“No. Why?”
Seconds ago, bright with exertion, the nurse suddenly has a complexion that matches the tile floor. “He’s not in his room. He wasn’t supposed to be up yet. And we can’t find him.”
Here’s the thing about Axle. He’s a wiley motherfucker. The bastard could have walked out himself as soon as his head cleared from the anesthesia. Or…
Justice strides to the window that overlooks the parking lot. “Do you think he’d leave?”
“That’s entirely possible.”
Allison, worrying at her lip, touches the woman’s arm. “Try not to be upset. These men can take care of any problem. Do you have a security office?”
“Si.” Pointing, she indicates a wing that we had not walked through. “There, at the end, near the parking area.”
I follow up with, “Do they have cameras?”
This genuinely perplexes the woman. Her shoulders lift. “Maybe?”
“This is Vandemora,” Justice offers. “If this were the States, they’d have cameras on the exits.”
Tears well, as the woman twists her hand in the pocket of her scrubs. “I just pray he’s okay.”
“Do not feel responsible for him. He probably just got claustrophobic. We’ll find him.”
As we are moving down the hallway away from the distressed employee toward the security office, Allison glances around nervously. “Do you really think he could have just… left?”
“I’m not going to worry about Axle yet. Because I know he’s smart and capable. He’s a highly skilled covert operative.”
After an exhale, I realize I don’t have to hide behind a wall when Allison is concerned. “Truthfully, this doesn’t sit well with me. He’s an unknown now, since we’re not close.”
Frowning, she speeds her steps to keep up with Justice. “Hard to believe you are twins and are so different.”
“I wonder about that myself sometimes.”
When I sense a shift in her, she says, “I’m sorry you didn’t get to talk to him about… whatever is between you.”
I guess I’m sorry. But maybe I’m not.
Justice knocks on the door labeled Securidad.
A second later, it swings open and when it does, I know we’re out of luck.
A young guy holding a clipboard looks between the three of us. His uniform is squared away, but the office is ancient. Behind him are stacks of papers on a desk that was built in the 60’s. Not a single computer monitor. No live feeds. Nothing else but a plant that is drooping from thirst.
Eyeing us suspiciously, the man sets his clipboard down on the desk behind him. "Can I help you?"
His accent is thick, but his English is clear enough like most people in Vandemora.
Justice steps forward taking the lead. "We're looking for a patient. Adam Hart. He's missing from his room."
When Allison frowns toward me, I mouth, “Alias.”
She blinks rapidly and presses her mouth tight.
When I glance back at the guard, his brows are parked high, in a state of shock. "Missing? I don't think so."
Frustration edges my voice.
Security should know if a patient is missing.
"The nurse just told us he's not in his room."
He shrugs, glancing down at his clipboard, tapping his finger on a line on the page on top. "No reports of missing patients."
"We're reporting it now," Justice says, his patience visibly thinning. “What’s your protocol?”
The guard scratches his head with his pen. A groan tries to bust out of me.
"I need to fill out a form first.
Allison pushes past me, probably because she senses violence building in the air. "Sir, we don't have time for forms. Can you just tell us if you've seen anyone leaving the hospital who shouldn't be?"
The guard studies her for a moment as if he’s trying to understand why she’s wearing tattered, salt-water crusted clothing on top of muddy boots.
"No, senora. I've been here since six this morning. Many people come and go.”
"Are there any cameras at the exits?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
He looks offended. With a huff, he puts his hands on his duty belt. "We have excellent security. Two cameras."
Hope flickers between our motley team. "Can we see the footage?"
"No."
Justice steps closer, his usual affable persona gone. "What do you mean, no?"
"The cameras..." He makes a circular motion with his hands. "Normally, they record on a loop. For twenty-four hours. Then they record over."
"That's fine," Allison says. "We just need to see the last hour."
The guard shakes his head again. "The system is down. Since Tuesday."
Of course it is.
I run a hand over my face. "Is there anyone else who might have seen something? Anyone stationed at the entrances?"
"Miguel was at the front desk this morning. But he went home sick. Stomach problems." He mimes clutching his belly.
Justice mutters something under his breath that I'm pretty sure isn't flattering.
"Look," I try again, "my brother just had surgery. He shouldn't be walking around. If he left, someone must have seen him."
The guard flips through some papers on his clipboard, seemingly disinterested. "I don't know, senor. People leave all the time. Against medical advice."
Allison sighs in frustration. "This is ridiculous. We need to?—"
"Wait." I put my hand on her arm. "Let's at least get a copy of the visitor log. Maybe there's something there."
The guard nods, reaching for a thick binder on his desk. As he flips it open, he says, "I need the patient name again?"
"Adam Hart," Justice says.
The guard runs his finger down a page. "No visitors logged for Senor Hart."
"That can't be right," I say. "We were just with him earlier."
He shrugs. "Maybe you didn't sign in."
“We did.” He doesn’t need to know we also used Aliases for at least part of our names.
"Check for anyone else suspicious," Allison says. "Anyone who didn't specify which patient they were visiting."
"That would be..." He flips a few more pages. "Many people, senora."
Justice leans over the desk. "Look, man, we just need something to go on here."
The guard glances up, annoyed, then freezes. He's looking at Allison with new interest.
"I just remembered," he says slowly. "There was a man asking for someone at reception. An American woman."
Allison perks up. "Who?"
"I didn't hear a name." He pauses, studying her face. "But wait... You are Allison, yes?"
I tense immediately. The urge to insert myself physically between the man and her has my fist clenching.
Allison looks equally startled. "What? No, I'm?—"
"I heard him call you that," the guard says, pointing to me.
Damn. I hadn't even realized I'd said it.
"I heard a man asking for an Ally or Allison at the desk," the guard continues, looking pleased with himself for making the connection. "American woman. This morning."
Allison's face drains of color. "What man? What did he look like?"
The guard shrugs. "I don't know. I only heard about it from Elena at the desk. She said a man in a suit was asking if an American woman was a patient here."
"When was this?" Justice asks.
"Maybe two hours ago? Three?" Another shrug.
I exchange glances with Justice. It could be her father. Could be someone working for him.
Could explain Axle's disappearance.
"And what did Elena tell him?" I ask.
"That we cannot give out patient information. Hospital policy."
Allison's hands are trembling slightly when she touches my arm. "Did this man seem... official? Government type?"
The guard hesitates, then looks down at his clipboard again. "There is something..."
"What?" all three of us ask at once.
"The parking attendant, Diego, he called in. Said there was a car that was parked in the wrong area and would not move. A black car with diplomatic plates."
"Diplomatic?" Justice echoes.
The guard nods. "Sí. Government car."
"Did he get the plate number?" I press.
Another head shake. "Just that it was black. With the special plates."
It's not much, but it's something. A connection to government involvement could be related to a very wealthy father searching for a missing daughter. Or hunting a daughter that’s in hiding.
The office falls silent except for the whir of a fan. The sand is sifting through the hourglass on finding my twin, but this accidental discovery puts a big fucking twist in things.
"Is there anything else you remember?" Allison asks, shifting between her water-logged boots. "Anything at all?"
The guard thinks for a moment. "The guard said there were two men in the front of the car. That's all he saw."
I step back, processing. Unease sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach. "So, we have a government car with diplomatic plates around the same time someone came around asking for an American woman who you do not have as a patient.”
The guard looks between us. "Should I call the policia?"
"No," I say quickly. Local police involvement could complicate things in ways we don't need right now.
Agile Security has some contacts at the Vandemoran Federal level that will be better.
I usher Allison toward the door. "We'll handle it."
He looks relieved, like the last thing he wants is paperwork.
"One more thing," Allison says. "Did Elena describe the man asking about me? Was he older, white hair, expensive suit?"