Chapter Two
The game seemed a little interesting. I decided to break my rule and give Nisha a call, so I grabbed my phone off the charger. It showed that I had voicemails waiting. The first was from my assistant, Emily.
“Sah, this is Emily. I just got a message from your sister. She’s heading to the emergency room at Mercy Medical and she needs you.”
*
I took some of the pressure off the gas pedal and divided my attention between the phone and my driving.
Robert had always said I needed one of those things to sync your phone with your car, but I had resisted.
“I am great with multi-tasking,” I would say, as he grabbed the Oh Jesus bar above the passenger door.
“You have seven new voice messages.”
“Sah, this is Jacqueline. I was wondering if you had any pages for me to go over.”
Delete.
The last thing I needed right now was to worry about my editor breathing down my neck.
“Hey, sis, I must have just missed you. I am going to miss you for the next month. I hope you do lots of research and keep an eye out for any cute guys or girls. It’s been six months—time for you to start dating again.”
Delete.
I could not help but smile even though I was worried. My sister had been trying to get me back into the world of dating for months.
“Sis, you are not going to believe this. Wired offered me a gig to attend a convention and cover a new occult social game called the Facade. They are going to pay me to attend a gaming con. Pretty sweet, huh?”
Delete.
I wondered if something had happened at the con. Nisha did freelance writing to cover the gaming community and had once, on a dare, tried jousting. She had taken a nasty spill and been laid up for a week.
“Sah, this is Jacqueline…”
Delete.
“Sah, oh my god, the con was great, the game was fun. It’s kind of a mix between Facebook, a LARP, and a tabletop role-playing game, and I met a bunch of great guys. You have to come to an event when you get back.”
Delete.
It sounded like the game was just acting and no combat involved.
I was starting to really wonder what happened; the message from Emily had been light on details.
I hesitated between listening to the rest of my messages and just calling the hospital or Emily, but I had this feeling that if I did not know all the bad news, everything might still be all right.
“Sis, I hope you get this. There is something weird going on. I posted some stuff online about that game I have been playing, and suddenly, I started getting all sorts of nasty chats. They even posted my address on the forums and said I was some sort of feminist plant trying to ruin their game. I don’t know what I did.
I could use the help of a sibling who is so good at connecting the dots and details. ”
Delete.
My heart started to beat a little faster. I had thought that my sister had been in an accident, but maybe she wasn’t. I began to have all sorts of visions of things people might have done to her. I took a silent vow that if someone had hurt my sister, they would be in for a world of pain.
“Sah, if you get this, you have to come home right away. I am really scared. I think somebody is following me around. The police said just to go home and wait for them there, but I don’t know.
“Hey, bitch, hang up the phone.” A voice I did not recognize interrupted my sister. A moment later a loud crack echoed through my ears like the phone had been thrown against a wall.
I replayed the message three times, trying to get a hint of what had happened. My feet pushed the pedal back down until it met the floor, and the car hit 120. I took a moment to wipe the tears from my eyes and dialed the hospital.
“Mercy Medical Center.”
“I need to check on the status of a patient, Nisha Williams.”
There was an exceptionally long pause. “I am sorry, I cannot give that information out over the phone.”
“Sure, you can; I am her sister. I need to know.”
“I am sorry, but I can’t.”
I closed my eyes and tried not to think of harmful things to do to nonhelpful receptionists. “Listen; just transfer me to the nurse’s station on her floor.”
There was another long pause. “Please hold.”
“ICU, can I help you?”
“Yeah, this is Sah Williams. My sister Nisha is a patient, and I need to find out her status.”
“Miss Williams, before I can release that information, I need to verify some details. Could you provide your sister’s full name, date of birth, and address.”
“Nisha Renee Williams, born July eighteenth nineteen ninety-one. She lives at 132 E Monroe Ave.”
“Okay, Miss Williams, we have been trying to get a hold of you. There has been a development with your sister’s case.”
“What happened?”
“I would prefer to speak with you in person about that.”
“I am on my way, but I have a very long way to go. What happened?”
“Your sister was brought into the hospital after having suffered an animal attack. She was grievously injured, and the doctors placed her under sedation while they decided what actions to take. She was checked on several times during the evening, and the last time the nurse went to visit her, she was gone.”
“Gone? Someone took her?”
“I don’t know; there was no sign of a struggle. It seemed like she just got up and walked out. We called the police, and they are investigating what happened.”
“No one noticed a person who needed to be in intensive care walking out the front door. What kind of place are you folks running?”
“I don’t have any more information I am allowed to give out. I can let you talk to the hospital administrator.”
Click. I ended the call. One thing I hated was that there was no satisfaction anymore with hanging up on people.
I liked the old days when you could slam the phone down when you did not want to hear some bureaucrat covering their ass after they lost a patient.
I took a long moment to think about all the things I would do to the hospital staff if I could not find my sister.
It brought me a brief second of consolation, but a moment later, I was sick with worry about Nisha again.
*
The following hours seemed to pass in a blur of caffeine and one speeding ticket.
I pulled into the parking lot just as the sun was starting to rise.
I had been on the road for almost fourteen hours straight.
My first thought was to go to the hospital, but I figured what was most important was to find her.
I then thought maybe going to the police department, but I was probably too fuzzy to be of any use in helping them find my sister, and maybe she had gone back to the condo we shared when I was in St. Louis.
It was about the only place we had ever felt truly at home and grounded.
I wandered up the three flights of stairs more from habit than my usual desire to knock off some calories and got to the door.
I pulled my keys out and started to insert them into the lock, but the door slid open.
This would be the part in my novel where the heroine pulls her gun and jumps in to accost the bad guy, but I did not have a gun on me.
I could have gotten a permit to carry one concealed, but since I had voted against the bill, it seemed wrong to take advantage of it.
It’s not that I have a problem with guns; I just think for a person to carry one concealed, they should demonstrate an above-average ability with firearms. The only thing I fear more than a terrorist is a well-intentioned amateur blazing away with his brand-new Glock.
Now, the fact all of that went through my mind as the door was slowly opening probably meant I should have had one more energy drink on the road.
So, since I was not that well-armed heroine, what I should do was call the cops, but somebody might be in there, maybe my sister, perhaps someone who knew something about my sister, which meant I wasn’t going to wait for the local police department.
I gave a gentle push to the door to make it slide open enough for me to slink through.
I looked around the front room, and it was a mess; papers and furniture were scattered everywhere.
I could hear a low barking from the back room, which meant that Fenris was still in his crate.
I kept my eyes forward, reached behind the door, and, after a moment, got a grip on the baseball bat.
We kept it there in case of softball games and ex-boyfriends.
I took a couple of practice swings, then held it ready to swing as I walked through the apartment.
I tried to focus my senses to determine if anyone was in the condo but couldn’t pick anything up until I caught a sound from Nisha’s bedroom.
I sprinted forward with the bat held up high and kicked in the door.
A black-and-white shape darted out the door as I came in, entangling itself in my feet, and a moment later, my face impacted the floor.
“Ounce!” As I lay on the floor, I watched my cat tear around the corner and head for the bathroom, her favorite hiding space. Well, at least both animals who shared the condo with us were accounted for. I got up, then sat back down on the bed.
Okay, enough of playing Sam Spade. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.
“Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“My apartment has been broken into and ransacked.”
“Are you safe? Do you think that the people who did it are still in the area?”
I gripped the bat a little tighter. “If only,” I whispered.
“I am sorry, I did not hear that.”
“No, but it might have to do with another case, the disappearance of my sister, Nisha Williams.”
“I will send some officers right over; do you need me to stay on the line till they get there?”