Chapter 4 - The Floorboards of Highlandtown
The police escorted Lucian out through the service elevators, leaving the ICU in a state of stunned chaos. Dr. Bell glared at me with pure venom before retreating to his office, muttering something about terminating my credentials by morning.
I didn't wait for my shift to end. I ripped off my scrubs badge, threw my white coat into the locker, and drove straight to Highlandtown like a woman possessed.
My Honda screamed up the block, tires chewing the asphalt. I bounded up the three flights of stairs to our apartment, fumbling with the keys until the deadbolt clicked open.
“Noah?” I called out, bursting through the door.
The apartment was empty. On the kitchen table sat a note from Mrs. Alvarez: Took Noah for ice cream. Be back at 5:00.
I checked my watch. 4:15.
I had forty-five minutes.
I dropped to my knees in the narrow kitchen, pushing aside the threadbare linoleum rug near the refrigerator. My mother had always been paranoid about landlords stealing security deposits, so she had hidden things under the old hardwood floorboards near the baseboard.
Using a butter knife, I wedged the rusted nails loose one by one. The old pine board lifted with a sharp screech of splintering wood.
Inside the dark cavity sat a single, heavy leather-bound ledger.
I pulled it out, coughing as a cloud of dust billowed into my face. The cover was cracked, smelling faintly of old paper, rain, and pipe tobacco. I carried it to the kitchen table, flicking on the overhead light.
I turned the thick, yellowed pages, bypassing columns of numbers, shipping manifests, dock security payouts, and political campaign donations.
Finally, I reached Page 42.
At the top of the page, written in my mother’s neat, careful handwriting, was a formal agreement signed by Elena Marsh and countersigned by Lucian Vale.
It wasn't a loan for a house.
It was a contract.
“In exchange for $50,000 to cover emergency pediatric surgery for Noah Marsh, Elena Marsh agrees to act as an internal auditor for Mercy County Medical Center financial records, reporting structural corruption and embezzlement directed by Dr. Marcus Bell.”
I gasped, my hands trembling so violently I nearly dropped the book.
My mother wasn't working with a criminal syndicate out of greed. She was working as an undercover informant for Lucian Vale, trying to expose the exact hospital administrators who were bleeding Mercy County dry—administrators who were using Vale as a convenient scapegoat for their own corporate crimes.
And right beneath the contract was a handwritten note from Lucian himself, dated three days before my mother died:
“Elena discovered the missing oncology grants. Bell knows she knows. I tried to pull her out, but we ran out of time. Her death was not natural. Watch over Noah and Dela. The debt is mine now.”
Tears blurred my vision, hot and blinding.
My mother hadn't died of a random aneurysm. She had been murdered, or at least pushed to her grave by the stress of uncovering a multi-million-dollar hospital embezzlement ring led by Dr. Marcus Bell.
And Lucian Vale had spent six years protecting us in the shadows because he had made a promise to a dying woman.
The front door clicked open.
“Dela?” Noah’s voice rang out, sweet and innocent. “We got mint chocolate chip!”
I slammed the ledger shut just as Noah and Mrs. Alvarez walked into the kitchen.
“Hey, bug,” I said, wiping my eyes quickly with the back of my hand and forcing a bright smile. “Go wash your hands. We’re having rice tonight.”
Once Noah was in the bathroom, Mrs. Alvarez caught my arm. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
“You look like you've seen a ghost, mija,” she whispered.
“Mrs. Alvarez… did you know my mother worked with Lucian Vale?”
The old woman’s face paled instantly. She looked toward the hallway to ensure Noah couldn't hear, then pulled out a chair and sat down heavily.
“Everyone in this neighborhood knew who Lucian was, Dela. But few people knew what he actually did. When your mother was desperate, the police wouldn't help her, the hospital HR laughed at her, and the bank threatened to throw you both into the snow. Lucian was the only man in Baltimore who answered his phone at 3:00 a.m.”
“He’s a criminal,” I whispered.
“He’s a man of his word,” Mrs. Alvarez corrected gently. “In a city full of monsters wearing suits—like that doctor at your hospital—Lucian was the only one who didn't pretend to be an angel.”
My phone buzzed on the table.
An incoming video call from an unknown, encrypted number.
I looked at Mrs. Alvarez, took a deep breath, and pressed accept.
The screen flickered, resolving into the stark, fluorescent-lit interior of a holding cell. Lucian Vale sat on a metal bench, his hands resting on his knees, staring directly into the camera.
“You found page forty-two,” Lucian said without preamble.
“You knew,” I choked out. “You knew Bell had something to do with my mother’s death, and you let him stay in charge of the hospital.”
“I didn't let him stay, Dela. I was building a federal RICO case that would take down not just Bell, but the entire corrupt board of directors who enabled him,” Lucian replied calmly. “Arresting him today in the ICU was phase one. Phase two requires a witness with unblemished medical credentials who can authenticate the internal financial ledgers.”
I stared at the screen. “You want me to testify?”
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“I want you to be safe,” Lucian said, his voice softening. “Bell knows you found the ledger. His security team is already moving toward your building.”
As if on cue, a sharp knock echoed at the front door.
