“Dr. Bennett, would you like to have this conversation in private?”
“Even if he said yes, which for the sake of his future children, he better not, I’m not leaving!” Bizzy fumes, leaning forward. “What has happened?” At this point, I hold her trembling body back.
He looks between us and talks. “Clint Erickson doesn’t exist
. At least, not the Clint working in this hospital the last few months. It’s an alias. We’re working now on a full identity and profile. He has moved from a person of interest to the main suspect.”
“I fucking told you that shit hours ago!” Now, Bizzy has to hold me back as I lunge.
“Dr. Bennett, we have protocols, processes, and lines of investigating to follow. No matter what you assumed, we’ve been looking into this ‘Clint’ since his name was mentioned. Details are coming to light, and I’m sharing them now.”
“Sharing them? What the hell are you sharing? We’re all sitting here on our asses when we could be searching for her. The news is downstairs and could have been broadcasting her disappearance! This is the biggest fucking bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Her parents are outside waiting for a call demanding millions of dollars, and my pregnant sister-in-law almost had a nervous breakdown! Don’t you think we should have been let in on your motherfucking lines of investigating?”
He doesn’t flinch, and it hits me hard. There’s more. Someone knows something internally. There’s only one person who it could be. The person who hired him. Bizzy uses all her strength, but it only serves to slow me down as I drag her with me on the way to the door.
“Where is he?” I bark, knowing anyone in thirty feet can hear me.
“The hospital administrator has been retained for questions and lawyered up. He’s been transferred to the station. In the meantime, a judge has granted access to all his files, and my technical team is searching for clues.”
“Tell them to dig fucking deep. This asshole had access to everything on the floor. He met my family. If he’s after money, he knows he’s hit the payload.”
He opens his mouth, but the door slams open and Shaw storms in, Nick and my dad close behind. “What’s happened?”
I spit out what has transpired, and the air in the room changes, Shaw coming to remove Bizzy’s death grip on my arm. Grace breezes in, looking only slightly better than she did a while ago before I insisted she rest in one of our empty rooms. Nick went with her and only left her side when Mom would sit with her while he got updates.
Phones go crazy with dings and alerts, and a piece of me settles knowing what’s happening. Nick and Grace were busy.
A man in a suit barges in, authority and command written all over him. I easily recognize him as the Captain who was supposed to be here an hour ago.
“Detective Flores, time to start the press conference.”
Flores stands straighter. “I thought the conference was delayed through legal.”
“It was, until three minutes ago. Claire Dixon’s story went public and viral. When I say viral, I mean fucking VIRAL. The entire Miami football team roster, coaches, trainers, and management staffs have posted her information on their social media. The news was leaked to the reporters, and the outlets are going insane. We need to give them something official and give them the tip line.”
“What can we do?” I direct my question to the Captain.
“I’d like for you to work with an IT specialist and go over your internal files, see if anything looks out of place. With everything my team has gathered from the staff, we’ve created a profile. If you think of anything to add to that, tell Detective Flores immediately.”
He’s solid and steady, devoid of emotion, but something in his tone is off.
“What aren’t you telling us?”
He exchanges a look with Flores and steps inside, closing the door. The tension in my body strings tighter, threatening to snap.
“I don’t think Claire was kidnapped for ransom. General abductions on wealthy families statistically have contact by now. The details we are getting from the nurses who were involved with who we know as Clint lead me to believe he targeted Claire for reasons other than money.”
“What kind of details?”
“One woman reports, when they met for dinner, he was dressed nicely, nothing out the ordinary for a date, but she noticed he was wearing a Rolex. The nurse, Lora, mentioned after they hooked up again, he would stay at her place. One morning, she picked up his jeans and noticed the Dolce & Gabbana label. Our officers have five women who had sexual encounters with Clint. Each of them reports that the evening started out the same. Meeting for dinner or drinks, light and easy conversation, and his suggestion to go back to their place. He’d always pay with cash, never a credit card. He’d follow them home, and each gave a different automobile description.
“What I’m getting at is that a man who wears a twenty thousand dollar watch, eight hundred dollar jeans, pays with cash, and owns multiple vehicles is not after a payout.”
“What the fuck?”
“We think you can help us figure it out. He wants Claire for a reason.”
“What’s happening with David Wayne?”