Chapter 9 - A Husband Who Never Said Goodbye

Her name was Anna Keene. She was Daniel's sister, not his wife. She'd checked into St. Agnes for a routine heart procedure and had never come out.

"They told our family she'd had a stroke," Daniel's husband, Michael, said when Nia brought them to his apartment. "Then they said Daniel collapsed on the way to identify her. Two deaths in one day. They wouldn't even let me see him."

Michael was a big man wearing slippers and a sweater with one sleeve stretched at the cuff. On the mantel were photos of Daniel teaching kids to swim and Anna holding a lopsided birthday cake.

"You have proof he's alive?" Michael asked.

Lena opened the video. Daniel's face filled the laptop screen. He was thin and scared, but he was breathing.

Michael touched the image with one trembling finger. "That's my husband. He bites his lip when he's scared. Look. He's doing it right there."

Nobody spoke for a while. "I called the hospital every day," Michael said. "They told me grief was making me confused. One woman asked whether I wanted to be referred for counseling. I thought I was losing my mind."

"You weren't," Lena said. "They were lying."

He swallowed. "Is Daniel still alive?"

Lena couldn't promise what she didn't know. "He was when that video was taken. We're going to find out where they took him."

Michael handed Cole a folder. It held a funeral invoice, a letter signed by Vale, and the hospital's refusal to release records. One page carried a routing code: B4-17.

"They billed us for two cremations," Michael said. "I paid because I thought it was the last thing I could do for them."

Nia photographed every page. "I'll publish once we have a location and a live witness. If I move too early, they'll call the clips fake and burn what remains."

A dog barked outside. Then the apartment lights died.

Cole drew his pistol. Lena turned toward the window and saw a white hospital service van roll to the curb with its headlights off.

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Someone knocked three times on the back door.

"Michael Keene," a man called. "We need to talk about your husband's remains."