Chapter 4 - The Locked Medical Room
The basement door was hidden behind a paneled wall in the library.
Mother claimed she had lost the key.
Elena found it inside Caleb’s pocket.
The stairs led to an underground wine cellar that had been converted into a medical room.
There was a hospital bed.
An IV pole stood beside it.
Bloodstained towels filled a plastic disposal bin.
A fetal monitor sat beneath a sheet.
The air smelled of bleach.
I held Noah tighter.
“Emily gave birth down here.”
Mother remained at the top of the stairs.
“It was an emergency.”
“You imprisoned her in a cellar.”
“She asked for privacy.”
“No woman asks to give birth beneath a locked door.”
Marissa sat handcuffed near the library entrance.
She finally admitted she was not a neonatal nurse.
She had been a certified nursing assistant before losing her license for stealing medication.
Caleb found her through a private online group.
“Who delivered the baby?” Elena asked.
Marissa looked toward Sheriff Crane.
He looked away.
“Dr. Owen Mercer,” she whispered.
The name struck me.
Owen Mercer was Emily’s uncle.
He had lost his medical license eight years earlier after a patient died during an unauthorized procedure.
Emily had cut all contact with him.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Who paid you?”
“Caleb.”
Caleb surged forward.
“She is lying.”
Elena’s agents restrained him.
Marissa began crying.
“I was supposed to watch Emily.”
“They said she was unstable because Daniel had been deployed.”
“They said she might take the baby and run.”
“Did you sedate her?”
“I gave her what Dr. Mercer prepared.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know.”
Elena searched the medicine cabinet.
Most of the bottles had been removed.
One shattered vial remained beneath the bed.
The label read OXYTOCIN.
Another bottle contained midazolam, a sedative often used before medical procedures.
Emily had not died from normal childbirth complications.
Someone had induced labor while keeping her sedated.
I leaned over the bed.
Thin scratches crossed the metal railing.
One word had been carved repeatedly into the paint.
CALEB.
My brother stared at it.
“I never came down here.”
Mother’s eyes closed.
“You came every night.”
Caleb turned toward her.
“What are you doing?”
“I cannot protect you anymore.”
His face drained of color.
Elena examined a dark stain beneath the bed.
Then she found a broken fingernail caught in the wheel.
The nail polish was Emily’s favorite shade of blue.
Taped beneath the mattress was a small brass key.
A strip of paper had been wrapped around it.
The handwriting belonged to Emily.
Daniel, if you come home, do not trust your mother.
The key opens the room where they keep the real records.
May you like
Before I could ask what room she meant, a CID agent called from upstairs.
The coffin was empty.
