Doubt (Caroline Auden #1) - C. E. Tobisman Page 0,94
it. It’s the reason you couldn’t destroy it.”
When Annie didn’t disagree, Caroline continued, “Everything comes down to this moment. That trial is happening right now. You can’t sit on the sidelines. Only you can prevent the deaths of thousands of people.”
Annie stayed silent.
“You’ve got to come with me,” Caroline said. “Please, let me take you to New York.”
Annie nodded, but the motion was so slight that Caroline almost missed it.
Caroline zipped up her suitcase then straightened up, mentally saying good-bye to the motel room. A room that was so much different than the last hotel room she’d occupied. With Eddie. Suddenly wishing for his presence, she consoled herself that she’d see him soon in New York. Once she got Annie Wong to New York . . .
Through the window, the sky glowed orange with the sunset. As soon as the sun finished with the business of disappearing beyond the far curve of the planet, Caroline would pick up Annie and her son, drive to San Francisco, and fly to New York. A daunting task, but doable. If all went well, she’d still make it to New York a full day before the hearing. The pessimistic part of her mind hoped that Annie hadn’t sent her off to her motel just to give herself time to grab Nolan and drive for the Canadian border.
She’d find out soon enough.
She stepped forward to grab her suitcase. Time to go see if Annie Wong was really going to come with her.
But then Caroline’s phone buzzed with an incoming text.
She dug the phone out of her bag.
The message had no sender. That meant it had come through a proxy server.
Caroline’s stomach twisted in concern. This couldn’t be good.
She opened it.
Your uncle is in Northridge Hospital in a compromised state. He will be released and dumped on the streets of Los Angeles tomorrow morning. You might want to come home.
An electric bolt of fear lanced through her chest.
With her heart pounding in her ears, Caroline dialed her uncle’s phone number.
No one answered.
She tried her mother’s number.
Joanne’s voice mail message promised a prompt response . . . as soon as she returned from her camping trip.
Forcing herself to keep breathing, Caroline pulled up the phone number for Northridge Hospital. When the receptionist answered, she asked for the charge nurse of the emergency room. A woman’s weary voice answered, and Caroline started straight in.
“I’m calling for a patient, Daniel Hitchings. I’ve been led to believe he’s there. He’s my uncle.”
The line went silent while the charge nurse checked her computer. Then the weary voice came back. “Yes, he’s in room 3217. They’re readying him for discharge tomorrow morning.”
“Can I talk to him?”
“I’m afraid not. Mr. Hitchings isn’t fully lucid.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“I’m sorry, but privacy regulations prevent me from giving you that information.”
“Who’s he being discharged to? That’s not a medical question.”
“He’ll be going home with the gentleman with the affidavit stating that he’s the home-care nurse your mother set up for him. The gentleman is here now, in the waiting room, actually. We told him that we couldn’t discharge Mr. Hitchings until we finish processing the paperwork, but he said he’d wait.”
“You can’t release my uncle to him,” Caroline said. “He isn’t really a home-care nurse.”
“He’s got credentials showing he works for Hugo Home Care,” the nurse said. “He brought written instructions from your mother. Perhaps you should discuss this with her.”
“My mom’s camping in Oregon. She isn’t reachable. She didn’t arrange this.” Caroline heard her tone grow frantic. She took a breath. “What does the guy look like?” she asked, trying to keep the nurse on the line.
“Tall guy. Green scrubs,” said the nurse. “He’s got a big red birthmark next to his mouth. Kind of looks like a turtle on its back.”
Caroline’s blood froze in her veins. It sounded like the man from the airport shuttle.
“Do you hold your uncle’s power of attorney?” the nurse asked.
“No,” Caroline said.
“Then you can’t stop the discharge.”
“But they’re going to dump him on the street!” Caroline shouted. She took another breath and ordered herself to calm. “What can I do to stop this discharge?”
“We’d need a doctor’s order from someone on staff,” said the nurse.
In the background, Caroline heard an alarm buzzing at the nursing station.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ve got to go,” the nurse said.
The line clicked off, and suddenly Caroline sat alone in a Mendocino motel room.
Caroline paced from the chipped enamel dresser to the yellowing posters of Mendocino on the opposite end of the room. But