The Woman in Room 214
Chapter 09 - The Woman in Room 214
Mina did not remember crossing the laundry floor.
One second, she was beside the folding table. The next, Alfred had both hands raised in front of her, not touching, blocking her path without trapping her.
“Move,” she said.
“No.”
“That is my mother.”
“I know.”
“Then move.”
“If you run blindly, Carlo wins in thirty seconds.”
She hated him for being right.
Her mother, Ruth Vale, had been slipping away for two years. Early-onset dementia, the doctors said, as if naming a thief made it polite. Some days Ruth remembered Mina’s birthday but not the year. Some days she called her by her sister’s name. Some days she sang lullabies while standing in the grocery aisle because she thought Mina was six again and lost behind cereal boxes.
Carlo had found her.
That fact turned Mina’s bones hollow.
“I need to know where she is.”
Lev was already working, phone pressed to his ear.
Alfred looked toward Lucia. “Carlo said family medicine.”
Lucia’s face had gone gray.
“There was a clinic attached to Harbor Vale. St. Brigid’s closed it, but the building was leased later. Private care. Memory patients. Wealthy ones.”
Mina’s stomach dropped.
“My mother had an appointment today.”
“Where?” Alfred asked.
“Beacon Memory Center.”
Lucia closed her eyes.
“That building was St. Brigid’s east wing.”
Mina sat down before her knees betrayed her.
Alfred turned to Lev.
“Find every exit, every employee, every camera. Quietly.”
“No police?” Mina demanded.
Alfred looked at her.
The answer sat between them.
Police could help. Police could also leak. In Alfred’s world, every public institution had a private door someone had bought years ago.
Mina closed her eyes, then opened them.
“Not your men alone,” she said.
Alfred nodded.
“Tell me who you trust.”
That question stopped her.
Not because she had no answer.
Because Alfred asked as if her answer mattered.
“My mother’s nurse,” Mina said. “Grace Tan. She calls me when Mom forgets appointments. She hates men in suits.”
Agnes snorted. “Sensible woman.”
Lev tracked Grace within six minutes. Mina called from a clean phone.
Grace answered on the second ring, whispering.
“Mina? I was just about to call you.”
“Where is my mother?”
“She’s in room 214. She thinks she’s waiting for your father.”
Mina pressed the phone hard against her ear.
“Is she safe?”
Grace hesitated.
That hesitation nearly killed her.
“There are two men at the nurse’s station asking questions. They say they’re family.”
“They’re not.”
“I know. Ruth told one of them Daniel hated cheap shoes.”
Mina choked out something between a laugh and a sob.
Grace continued, voice lower.
“There’s another problem. Dr. Kline is here.”
Lucia looked up sharply when Mina repeated the name.
“Who is Kline?” Alfred asked.
Lucia answered. “Harbor Vale’s last physician had a son. Bernard Kline.”
Agnes muttered something that did not sound like a prayer.
Alfred took the phone gently from Mina when her hand started shaking.
“Grace,” he said. “This is Alfred Costello.”
Silence.
Then Grace said, flatly, “Absolutely not.”
Despite the circumstances, Mina almost laughed.
Alfred blinked once.
“I need you to listen.”
“No, you need to listen. I have a confused woman in room 214, two pretend nephews outside, and a doctor with hands too clean for the look in his eyes. If you bring one loud man into this building, I will personally trip him with an IV pole.”
Agnes whispered, “I like her.”
Alfred’s mouth almost moved.
“Understood,” he said. “What do you need?”
“Ten minutes. A wheelchair. And a distraction that won’t scare Ruth.”
Mina leaned toward the phone.
“Put me on speaker. Let me talk to Mom.”
Grace did.
There was rustling. A soft click. Then Ruth Vale’s delicate voice floated through.
“Daniel?”
Mina shut her eyes.
“No, Mom. It’s Mina.”
“Mina, sweetheart? I thought your father was coming.”
“He sent me.”
The lie broke something inside her.
Ruth sighed with relief.
“He always was late when there were numbers.”
“Yes.” Mina opened her eyes. Alfred was watching her with a grief he had no right to carry and yet somehow did. “Mom, I need you to go with Grace. She’s going to take you downstairs.”
“Is there cake?”
Grace’s voice entered gently. “There will be if you behave, Ruth.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?”
The line muffled.
Then shouting erupted in the background.
Not loud enough to be chaos.
Just loud enough to be wrong.
Grace hissed, “They know.”
The call ended.
Mina stood.
This time Alfred did not stop her.
He reached into his coat, removed a small black case, and placed it on the table in front of Lev.
“No guns in the patient wing,” Mina said.
Alfred looked at her.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, he closed the case.
“No guns in the patient wing,” he repeated.
For the first time all day, Mina believed that maybe love could learn a new language if someone was desperate enough to study.
Then Lev’s phone buzzed.
A photo arrived from Grace.
Ruth sat in a wheelchair in a service elevator.
May you like
Behind her, reflected in the metal wall, stood Carlo.
Smiling.
