Annabelle Burnett.
My hands were shaking as I carefully placed the folder on my desk and began looking through it. My heart was pounding in my chest, blood whooshing in my ears as I looked at the contents of the folder. The first things I saw were Annabelle’s birth certificate and social security card. Behind that, I found birth records for Ember, Coal, and Nivan. Then, Nivan’s death certificate. Though, it was the next few papers that caught me by surprise.
There were two hospital reports, one for a Jane Doe and the other for a Johnny Doe, admitted to Cedar Valley Regional Emergency Department. I carefully read through the reports.
A woman and young boy were found on the side of the road. The woman appeared to have some sort of head trauma and was unable to answer any questions. The young boy refused to talk to any of the hospital staff. The woman was sent for a CT scan of her head, but never arrived in the Radiology Department. According to the reports, the woman was nowhere to be found, assumed to have left against medical advice and the young boy was found dead in his hospital bed. Both reports had the same date as the date on Nivan’s death certificate.
The name of the physician who had written the report caught my eye. After reading it twice to be sure I wasn’t mistaken, I picked up my phone and placed a call. Each ring was excruciatingly long until he finally picked up. “Patch, get your ass in my office right now!”
***
When Patch arrived, I handed him the report and immediately started questioning him. He was reluctant at first, but finally told me Luke Johnson had asked him to take that particular case. There was nothing actually wrong with the woman; her coming to the hospital was just a means to help her escape.
“I swear, Prez, if I had known it was Annabelle, or even thought it was, I would’ve told you. When I joined the club and heard you talking about your past, it never occurred to me that the woman I helped could have been your girl. I never knew her name. I didn’t even know where she came from. Luke said it was better that way, plausible deniability and all that.”
“Relax,” I said. “I’m not pissed at you. I just want to know what you know so I can fucking find her.”
“That’s really about it. I ordered a CT scan for her. When it was time for the test, I volunteered to take her to Radiology. Instead, I led her to the back of the hospital where a car was waiting. She got in and I went back inside. I don’t know what happened after that,” he explained.
“So, the boy wasn’t found dead in his hospital room?”
Confusion washed over Patch’s face. “What boy?”
“The boy who came to the hospital with her. Her son,” I said and handed him the other hospital report.
Patch looked over the paper. “I’ve never seen this report before. And I would certainly remember finding a young child dead in their hospital room.”
“It has your name on it,” I pointed out.
“Well, it was fucking forged. I swear, Phoenix, there was no child with her.”
“It says right there that she arrived with a small child!” I yelled, stabbing my finger at the paper on my desk.
“I know what it says, Prez. I’m telling you, she didn’t have a kid with her. Maybe Luke knew something I didn’t.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see what I can get out of Luke. Thanks, brother.” With that, Patch left my office and I placed another call.
“Phoenix, what’s up man?” Luke answered.
“Any chance you’re around and can swing by the clubhouse?” I asked. I did not want to have this conversation over the phone, and I’m sure he didn’t either.
“Sure. I’m in the city so it’ll be about an hour or so. Is everything okay?” he asked, hesitantly.
“Yeah, man, it’s nothing like last time.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said and disconnected.
When Luke sat down in my office, I slid the hospital reports over to him. He skimmed over the pages then returned his focus to me. “How did you get these?”
Instead of answering him, I pushed the file folder with Annabelle’s name on it to him. He glanced at it and looked at me questioningly. “Those reports were in that folder. I found it while going through more of Octavius’s stuff.”
“And you think this is Annabelle? Your Annabelle?” he asked, eyes wide.
“Yes.” I pulled out a picture of Annabelle when she was 18 years old and placed it on the desk in front of him. I knew he had seen her picture before, but I felt compelled to show him again. “Is this the girl you and Patch helped?”
He glanced at the picture and back to me. “I don’t know. I never saw her. I made all the arrangements, but I was a few states away on an assignment when this happened. I had another agent meet her at the hospital.”
“Get him on the phone. See if this is the girl,” I demanded, shaking the picture at him.
