Chapter 4 - The Tracking of the Innocent
Gerald Vance—no relation to Marcus, a fact he thanked God for daily—adjusted the earpiece of his satellite phone as he navigated the long, sterile corridors of the Maple Street Rehabilitation Center. He had been a detective for twenty years before James Ashby’s late wife, Eleanor, had hired him to run corporate intelligence and personal security. He knew how to read a building, and right now, this building was screaming.
The nurses’ station on the second floor was in a state of quiet panic. A woman in a sharp gray blazer was speaking to the head nurse, holding a folder stamped with the seal of the Department of Children and Family Services. Two police officers stood a few feet back, looking bored but imposing.
Gerald slipped past them into the shadows of the west stairwell, his phone vibrating against his ribs.
"James," Gerald said into the mic. "I'm at the facility. Child services is already here. The police are with them."
In his ICU bed, James was sitting up, a laptop balanced on his thighs despite the protests of the private duty nurse who was trying to check his vitals. "Are the girls there, Gerald?"
"No," Gerald replied, looking through the wire-reinforced glass of the stairwell door. "I just checked the log. Room 214. The patient’s name is Dorothy Grant, the grandmother. But the room is cleared out. The sheets are stripped. They fled, James. Probably within the last ten minutes. They must have seen the police cruiser out front."
James closed his eyes, a profound sense of guilt washing over him. These children had saved his life, and in return, the corporate machinery of his own world had unleashed the wolves upon them. "Where would a seventy-one-year-old woman with a broken hip go with two six-year-old children in the middle of a storm, Gerald?"
"She’s a resident of this city for fifty years, James. She knows the nooks and crannies better than we do," Gerald said, descending the stairs two at a time. "But she’s on a walker. She can't go far on foot, and the city transit system is delayed due to the rain. I'm going to track her transit card if she used it, or check local livery services. But Marcus’s people are also looking, James. I saw a car from Ashby Capital’s security firm parked three blocks away. Marcus wants to find those kids and get them to sign a non-disclosure agreement or a statement admitting 'confusion' before the media turns this into a full corporate liability."
"If Marcus touches those children, I will dismantle his stock options before the board can blink," James said, his voice dropping into a register that made the private nurse step back in genuine alarm. "Find them, Gerald. Use every resource in my private account. Hire private medical transport if you find them. Bring them to the penthouse at the St. Regis. I’ve already cleared the floor."
"Understood," Gerald said, stepping out into the rain-slicked alley behind the clinic.
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He stopped near a row of industrial dumpsters. On the wet asphalt, fresh tracks from a standard walker’s rubber tips were clearly visible, leading toward the underground entrance of the subway line two blocks over. The tracks were spaced irregularly, the left side dragging—the distinct signature of a woman walking through an agony that few could endure.
Gerald pulled his collar up against the cold October rain and started to run.
