Chapter 9
The List of Vanishing Patients
Kathleen’s voice trembled on the recording.
But she did not sound confused.
She sounded certain.
“There are seventeen names I know of.”
Chloe sat on the concrete floor of the storage unit.
Noah sat beside her.
Ruiz stood by the open door.
Kathleen continued.
“Elderly clients with no close family. Several had assets transferred before being moved into private care. Three died within months. Five disappeared from normal medical systems.”
The recorder hissed.
Then:
“Daniel Mercer calls them transitions.”
Chloe looked at Ruiz.
“What does that mean?”
Ruiz shook her head.
Kathleen’s voice returned.
“Dr. Samuel Pike signs capacity evaluations. Thomas Vale handles security. Mercer handles legal transfers.”
Chloe felt sick.
Three names.
A system.
Not one violent man.
A network.
The recording continued.
“I copied intake records and medication logs. I gave half to Charles Ward because I thought he didn’t know.”
Evelyn’s husband.
Chloe’s pulse quickened.
“He believed me.”
Another pause.
“He said he would shut it down.”
Then Kathleen whispered:
“Two weeks later, Charles became sick.”
Chloe stopped breathing.
Charles Ward had died after a long illness.
At least that was what the newspapers had said.
Kathleen continued.
“I don’t know if they caused it. I only know Mercer took control of the medical division after Charles stopped coming to meetings.”
The recording ended.
Noah signed one word.
Murder?
Chloe looked at Ruiz.
Ruiz answered carefully.
“We don’t know.”
Chloe translated.
Noah’s jaw tightened.
The recorder contained more tracks.
Most were ordinary notes.
Medication discrepancies.
Names of facilities.
Dates.
Then they found Track 23.
Kathleen sounded panicked.
“He knows.”
Chloe’s stomach dropped.
“I came home and my back door was open. Nothing taken. Just the blue folder moved.”
Blue folder.
Again.
“I split the records. One copy with me. One with Charles’s granddaughter when she’s old enough.”
Chloe frowned.
Anna would have been sixteen.
Kathleen continued.
“If I don’t make it, find Evelyn’s sister.”
Evelyn’s sister.
The deaf sister.
Chloe looked at Noah.
He looked back.
Kathleen whispered a name.
“Rose Adler.”
Then the recording stopped.
Ruiz searched immediately.
Rose Adler had died nine years earlier.
But she had one surviving child.
A daughter.
Miriam Adler.
Living in Milwaukee.
They drove north that afternoon.
Chloe did not tell Evelyn yet.
She wanted facts before giving an elderly woman another reason to grieve.
Miriam Adler opened her door cautiously.
She was in her sixties.
Silver hair.
Hearing aids.
When Chloe introduced herself and signed Kathleen Bennett’s name, Miriam froze.
Then she signed back.
You are Kathleen’s daughter.
Chloe’s throat tightened.
“You knew her?”
Miriam stepped aside.
Inside, her house was warm and crowded with books.
On the living room wall hung a framed photograph.
Kathleen.
Evelyn.
Rose.
And Charles Ward.
All four standing together.
Chloe stared.
“My mother knew them?”
Miriam nodded.
“Better than you were told.”
She brought out a metal document box.
“My mother left this for Evelyn. She made me promise not to open it unless someone came asking about Daniel Mercer.”
Chloe looked at Ruiz.
Miriam set the box on the table.
Inside was a ledger.
Dozens of names.
Property values.
Medication codes.
Dates.
And handwritten initials.
D.M.
S.P.
T.V.
Chloe flipped pages.
Then she saw one name she knew.
Kathleen Bennett.
Beside it was a date.
The day before her crash.
And one word.
TRANSFERRED.
Chloe stared at Miriam.
“What does transferred mean?”
Miriam’s face went pale.
“I always thought it meant the records.”
Chloe looked down at the list.
The other names marked TRANSFERRED were patients.
People.
Not files.
Then Ruiz turned one more page.
At the bottom was a current entry.
EVELYN WARD.
May you like
Status:
PENDING.
