Paula guided the police cruiser back to the hospital from Weber’s midtown apartment. She wasted no time with traffic lights or stop signs that blurred in the crosstown race.
John called the hospital and managed to convince a low-level security manager to lock down the hospital with the report of a missing child.
Paula fishtailed to a stop at the hospital entrance, where three Sacramento Police units blocked the access points to the hospital lobby, another blocked the parking lot exit, and a California Highway Patrol motorcycle officer roamed through the parking structure.
Frustration showed in the faces of patients who were kept from appointments inside. Nurses from the emergency room performed a triage of sorts at the entrance door, advising those who sought care to wait or directing them to another hospital emergency room.
Paula and John left the sedan in the drive and made for the entrance. A young uniformed officer was about to block their advance when Lieutenant Barnes stepped into view.
“John, Paula, this way,” the lieutenant called out.
“Where’s Melissa?” John said.
“I have her in the security office looking at video. I’ve asked for a BOLO with Tommy’s description, we have the entire hospital locked down tight, and we have a five-block perimeter in place.”
Lieutenant Barnes led John and Paula through a set of doors and set off down a hallway.
“What do we know?” John said.
“Tommy went into the dialysis unit and didn’t come out. There are three exits out of the unit that don’t dump into the lobby. The nurse with him was not a regular employee. He was a registry nurse, someone they call in when they need to cover a shift.”
“Did they get an ID on the nurse?” Paula asked.
“Not yet. They only said he came from the registry. No one remembers working with him before.”
“Did we get a view of him on any of the security cameras?” John said.
“Working on it,” Barnes said as they reached the security offices.
A uniformed officer nodded at the lieutenant but avoided eye contact with John. John knew a missing child was painful, the kind of searing ache you want to keep from creeping into your life at any cost. Don’t look directly at it and it won’t burn you.
The lieutenant held the door for John and Paula. They entered a room teeming with frantic people, a stark contrast to the Zen fixtures and life-affirming artwork on the walls. The serene, calm space had transformed into a madhouse of loud-talking cops and blame-shifting hospital employees. John located Melissa in the center of the storm, hovering over a man who flicked switches at a bank of security monitors.
She leaned in and watched the screens replay security footage of the moments before Tommy disappeared. There was no glimpse of Tommy or the nurse who had wheeled him into the dialysis unit, just like the nine times she had scoured the video before this one.
Melissa sensed John before he said anything and slipped an arm around his waist. She leaned into him. John felt the quiver of her body against his. “There’s no view that shows Tommy leaving the unit or who took him.” She turned into her husband, buried her face in his chest, and sobbed.
Paula stopped and spoke with a cluster of hospital workers wearing light-blue scrubs. After a short conversation with the group, she broke away and came to John.
“John, check this out,” Paula said.
Melissa looked up. “Did you find him?”
“Do these men look familiar?” Paula said as she passed the photo she’d taken from Weber’s apartment.
Melissa took the photo in both hands and scanned the faces of the two men. She touched the image of Brice Winnow. “This is the nurse who wheeled Tommy into the dialysis unit.”
“Did you get a good look at him? You’re sure?” John said.
“It’s him?” Paula asked.
Melissa nodded.
“The dialysis unit staff confirmed it too. I showed this photo, and all of them said this guy was supposedly a registry nurse who came in to help today because they were short on nurses.”
The lieutenant joined in soon enough to hear the last part of Paula’s conversation.
“Who we talking about?” Barnes said.
“He went to medical school with Zack Weber,” John replied.
Barnes glanced at the photo. “Brice Winnow? As in Winnow, the aide to City Councilwoman Margolis? You were supposed to stay away from him. What happened?”
“Things kinda happened fast,” John said.
“But you think he’s involved?”
John stepped closer so that Melissa couldn’t overhear. “Lieutenant, listen, we’re close . . .”
“You aren’t going to get close to anything, John. I have to pull you from the case; you know that. I can’t let you investigate the disappearance of your own son.”
“I have to stay on it.”
“No, John, you can’t, and that’s final. Tommy is part of our family. Let us get him back for you. You can’t be objective, and the killer is using that leverage to get to you.”
“The lieutenant’s right, John,” Paula said. “You’re too close. The rules say you shouldn’t be part of this. Maybe it is time for someone to look at it with fresh eyes.”
John clenched his fists, and his knuckles turned white. “Thanks for having my back, partner.” He turned away from Paula and went to Melissa.
“He’ll be okay,” Barnes said.
“Only if we get Tommy back, Lieutenant,” Paula said. She went toward John and Melissa.
John couldn’t hide the disappointment etched into his face. He turned on Paula the moment she drew close. The voice that came from him sounded alien, harsh, and heavy with betrayal. “What the hell did you do? You still act like you’re working IA, out to get another scalp. Partners don’t do that to each other.”
Paula felt the eyes of everyone in the room focus on her. She reached for John’s shoulder, and he brushed her away.
“Get away from me and my family,” he said from behind clenched teeth. He turned his back on Paula, took Melissa by the hand, and walked away.
Paula stood alone under the harsh lights, but it was the glare from her fellow officers that burned. A feeling that was too familiar.