Chapter 6 - The Secret Behind the Missing Medication|
Clara knew someone had entered her apartment before she saw the broken lock.
The door stood slightly open.
Her welcome mat had been moved.
And the faint smell of unfamiliar cologne drifted into the hallway.
She stopped.
For a moment, her heart hammered so loudly she couldn't hear anything else.
Then she backed away.
She didn't enter.
She called the police.
By the time officers arrived, Clara was standing outside with Emily.
Her sister gripped her arm.
"Please tell me this isn't connected to the hospital."
Clara stared at the apartment door.
"I don't know."
Inside, someone had searched through her belongings.
Drawers hung open.
Books covered the floor.
Her laptop was gone.
So was the small external drive she used to back up personal documents.
But her jewelry remained untouched.
So did the cash in her kitchen drawer.
The officers photographed everything.
One asked:
"Do you have any reason to believe someone was looking for a particular item?"
Clara hesitated.
Then she remembered the medication discrepancies.
Her incident report.
The inventory adjustments.
And the screenshots she'd saved before Marcus fired her.
"Yes," she whispered.
The officer looked up.
"What?"
"Hospital records."
Emily stared.
"Clara?"
She swallowed.
"I reported suspected irregularities at work. Someone may be looking for those documents."
The officer took notes.
Clara contacted Rebecca Mills.
Then she called the hospital's independent investigation hotline.
She did not call Adrian.
She refused to make him responsible for her life.
But an hour later, her phone rang.
Rocco.
"Miss Bennett?"
"Yes?"
"Are you safe?"
She frowned.
"How do you know?"
"Mr. DeLuca was informed about the break-in by your attorney, who asked whether the hospital's investigators had relevant information."
Clara closed her eyes.
"Of course."
Rocco hesitated.
"Mr. DeLuca asked whether you'd like help finding somewhere secure to stay."
Clara looked around her destroyed apartment.
Emily stood beside the door, looking frightened.
Clara swallowed her pride.
"I'd appreciate help locating a hotel. But I'll pay for it myself."
Rocco paused.
"Understood."
Twenty minutes later, Clara and Emily checked into a modest hotel near the city center.
Not one owned by Adrian.
Clara had insisted.
She needed to preserve at least one boundary.
That evening, Rebecca called.
"Clara, we found something."
Clara sat upright.
"What?"
"Your inventory discrepancies may be connected to a vendor contract."
Clara frowned.
"What vendor?"
"Northstar Medical Distribution."
Her stomach tightened.
She recognized the name.
Northstar supplied several products to the hospital.
She'd questioned its invoices three weeks earlier because the quantities billed didn't match some receiving records.
"What about it?"
Rebecca continued.
"The hospital's investigators found payments that don't match documented deliveries."
Clara stared.
"How much money?"
"Several million dollars over multiple years, according to preliminary findings."
She went cold.
"That's not a small inventory mistake."
"No."
Clara looked toward Emily.
Her sister was asleep on the other bed.
Rebecca continued.
"And Clara, there may be a connection between Northstar and Marcus Vale."
Clara's hands began trembling.
"How?"
"An undisclosed financial relationship is being examined."
Clara closed her eyes.
For months, Marcus had complained about budget cuts.
Overtime restrictions.
Staff shortages.
Medication supply problems.
Clara had worked double shifts because the hospital claimed it couldn't afford more nurses.
And now there was evidence suggesting someone might have been siphoning money through fraudulent contracts.
She thought about patients waiting hours for treatment.
Nurses crying in supply closets.
Families who couldn't afford care.
Anger replaced fear.
"Rebecca?"
"Yes?"
"I want every piece of evidence preserved."
"We're working on it."
"And I want my name cleared."
Rebecca's voice softened.
"That's exactly what we're trying to do."
After the call, Clara sat beside the window.
The city glittered beneath a cloudy sky.
She felt exhausted.
Frightened.
Angry.
Then her phone vibrated.
A message from Adrian.
Rocco told me you're safe. I'm glad. No need to reply.
Clara stared.
No demands.
No expectation.
No dramatic declaration.
Just concern.
She typed a response.
Thank you.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Finally, Adrian replied.
You're welcome, Clara.
She found herself smiling.
Then another message arrived.
For the record, I listened to my doctors today.
Clara laughed softly.
Miracles do happen.
His response came almost immediately.
Would you believe I also ate the hospital vegetables?
She smiled wider.
Now I know you're lying.
He sent a photograph of an empty plate.
Clara shook her head.
For the first time since losing her job, she felt something warm inside her chest.
Then her hotel-room telephone rang.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice spoke.
Low.
Calm.
Familiar.
"Clara."
Her blood ran cold.
"Marcus?"
He laughed softly.
"You really should have left things alone."
Clara gripped the receiver.
"How did you find me?"
"You're making powerful people nervous."
Her heart hammered.
"Who?"
Marcus ignored the question.
"Give back what you took."
"I didn't take anything."
"Don't lie."
Clara stood.
"Marcus, I'm recording this conversation and contacting the police."
His voice changed.
"Then tell them to investigate the man who just bought your hospital."
Clara froze.
"What?"
Marcus lowered his voice.
"Adrian DeLuca didn't buy St. Augustine to protect you."
Her stomach dropped.
"Then why?"
A pause.
May you like
Then Marcus whispered:
"Because the money missing from the hospital belongs to him."
