Novel Center
Chapter 127
Chapter 127
CHAPTER 127 Staged
Beil Ss w
Emma
It was half past four in the morning when | finally exited the hospital, completely exhausted. | was assigned to pull an all-nighter since we were understaffed.
Ford Martin, as expected, was arrested for the death of Theodore Cohen, Rodney Marshall was promoted to Junior Nurse Administrator while some of my colleagues decided it was best if they called in sick to stay away from the controversy the hospital was currently in.
It didn’t matter to the townsfolk though. They had no choice. St. Elizabeth’s was the only hospital in New Salem.
Take Nicole Davis, for example. She was better off going to another hospital for treatment since she was clearly in danger. Apparently, some truck crashed into her car while the driver... well, he fled the scene and would have disappeared, if it weren’t for Beaufort and
Max.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have a choice. So, it was up to me, Autumn... and Link... to keep
her safe.
Nicole was rushed into the ER with a fractured leg and arm, several broken ribs, a punctur
lung yet she was lucky to have sustained minor head injuries. After the doctors’ initial assessment, she was immediately wheeled into an OR.
She finally came out from surgery in the wee hours of the morning, stable, but unconsciou The doctors decided to put her in a medically induced coma to prevent parts of her brain from swelling, given she had sustained trauma to the head..
While | waited for her to come out of the operating room, | had to endure watching... with. disgust... the dashing Lincoln Murphy flirt with the nurses on duty at the nurses’ station near Nicole’s designated room at the ICU.
Because he was so charming, my colleagues giggled at all his wise cr acks and innuendoes.... something they never did with Ford.
If they only knew that he was a ruthless assassin. All of Beaufort’s men were.
| remember the day when | sawed off the finger of the young wife of Nikolai Devin... | remember how my hands shook uncontrollably. Beaufort, unfortunately, sees puking or
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because of my shaky hands.
While Beaufort sees it as a weakness, |, on the other hand, see it as human. But | do
sav
understand Beaufort. You can’t be an assassin and have a conscience. It doesn’t work that
way.
| had just finished checking on Nicole and was about to grab a cup of coffee when | heard my
name.
“Hey, Clarke, Rodney called out to me from behind. | quickly turned around and saw him with a clipboard. “You’ve been here almost twenty-four hours. You should go home and get some rest. Come in around noon. I'll have someone else cover your shift for the morning.”
“Junior Administrator Rodney Marshall,” | said, smiling. “How’s your f
day?”
“Toxic,” he said. “Hartman has me doing all of her work. | dropped by her office around six yesterday evening and found it empty. | guess since she has me as her assistant, she gets to leave the hospital whenever she wants.” He peeked into Nicole’s room. “She’s stable... good. I'll assign Nurse Roberts to take care of her until you get back.” He pointed at Link. “Is that the boyfriend?” “No,” | answered. “He’s just a Good Samaritan.”
“He looks more like a Prince Charming to me,” he muttered, pertaining to his goo “Anyway, Clarke, go home and get some rest. I'll see you later at noon.”
“What about you? Aren’t you going to get some sleep?” | asked, concerned.
“I'll grab a couple of hours of sleep in my new office,” he answered, waving goodbye walked away. “Go home, Clarke. That's an order.”
Ss.
After getting all my stuff from my locker, | exited the hospital and walked through the parking lot to where my car was parked underneath a pair of old trees. They were huge tre their trunks filled with carved initials of loved ones who have passed away at this very hospital. While others saw it as tragic, | saw the beauty of still being kept as a part of the community even in the after life.
“I've been waiting for you to come out of the hospital,” a familiar female voice said. “I want the truth and you, Emma Clarke, are going to give me the truth.”
Lindsay Hartman came out from the shadows of the trees, a gun in her right hand and a Bluetooth earpiece inserted in one ear. She was hither recording our conversation or relavi?é
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it to someone through her phone. D amn this bi tch.
| dropped my bag on the ground and raised my hands above my head, steadying my breathing. | had to stay calm.
Remember your training, Emma.
I needed to distract her.
“The truth is your grandnephew sexually harasses women and is a murderer,” | said calmly. “Is that so hard to accept?”
“Ford said he bumped into you in the corridor right before he gave Theodore Cohen his medication yesterday morning,” Lindsay Hartman said, ignoring what | had said. “I went through the CCTV footage and couldn't find you anywhere in it.”
“That’s because Ford is lying. He’s a liar!”.
“| know he’s a liar, Nurse Emma. I’m the one who taught him how to lie. This is why | know Ford is telling the truth. You bumped into him and changed the IV bag, didn’t you? Why Emma? Just because he showed interest? Touched you in an offending way? Or is it because. someone wants the Martins out of the way? If that’s the case, why not hurt Ford? Why would
need to kill Theodore Cohen?”
you
“| have no idea what you're talking about, Nurse Administrator Hartman, because | d Theodore Cohen. Ford did,” | replied, keeping the status quo.
“Oh, sure, keep using my name, Emma. There’s nobody here. Even if you scream, no on be able to hear you. The guards are busy sleeping at their stations and it’s around this ti when most of the staff doze off,” Hartman said, her face blank. She obviously had her poke face on. | was having trouble discerning whether she was hell-bent on killing me or if this was just a bluff. “So tell me, who are you working for, Emma Clarke?”
“| work at St. Elizabeth Memorial Hospital,” | answered gruffly.
“Wrong answer!” She screeched. “You think I’m playing with you, don’t you?” She was starting to feel frustrated.
“No, | don’t. | just think you're talking to the wrong person.” This time she smiled sweetly.
“You're right. | am talking to the wrong person. You know, | went through your file again and | found it so well-done that it felt strange... andlit made me wonder. So | did some digging346
CHAPTER 127 Staged
called all the hospitals in the West Coast when | happened to stumble upon Palmer Memorial using the number | found on their website. They said no one with the name Emma Clarke has ever worked there, but they did have a nurse named Emma Caruso working for them until a month ago. What was even stranger though was when | called the number | found on your file. The person who answered enumerated everything on your file like she was reading it, but accidentally uttered a different surname before reverting back to Clarke. | believe you’re real name is Emma Caruso, yes?”
S$ hit! I'm goi
going to have to tell Domenico that Primo’s call center agents screwed up!
When | didn’t answer, she smiled at me, clicked the Bluetooth earpiece off and lowered her gun. “I want twenty million dollars wired to an offshore account and | want it done by the
time the sun rises.”
She was after money... This is why she sent Ford to negotiate with the hospital director. They wanted to milk the Martins... Maybe so she could retire with a sizeable nest egg of her
Own.
| lowered my hands to my sides and stared at her with a bewildered expression on my face.
“Aren't you related to the Martins? Shouldn't you be rich on your own?” | asked.
is
*My niece never learned the virtue of giving nor sharing,” she scoffed. “All she ever did was take and take. Where do you think Ford gets that from? His mother! If it weren’
mess, Ford would have offered his trust fund in exchange for my position. Well
retire rich. That's where you come in. So, will you send me the money or should
you now?”
| sighed. It was always about money.
| was about to negotiate, when, from the corner of my eye, | saw a figure in a suit dar behind the trees. No need to negotiate. Help was on its way.
“You are barking up the wrong tree, Nurse Administrator Hartman,” | said. “I don’t have th kind of money.”
“Surely the person you work for has that kind of money,” she replied.
“Again, | work in that hospital... just like you. I'm guessing the board has that kind of money, but you know they’ll never give it to any of us. We’re just pawns who they work to the bone,” | explained.
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“Then, I'll just have to shoot you now and tell everyone you confessed to the murder of one Theodore
Cohen,” she said, raising her gun and aiming it at me.
“| don’t think so,” a man’s voice said.
Before Lindsay Hartman could react, Link shot her on the right side of the head, his silencer stifling the sound of the gunshot. She collapsed on the grass, her blood pooling beneath her.
Link pocketed her gun, placed his gun in her hand then squeezed the trigger. | noticed he was wearing leather gloves. He came prepared.
He patted her down, found her keys in one of her pockets, and removed her earpiece.
“Leave now,” Link said. “Autumn is already handling the CCTV footage. Don’t leave anything behind.... because I’m going to stage this as a suicide.”
Without a second thought, | picked up my bag, entered my car and drove off.
The Martins are going to be pis sed when they hear Lindsay Hartman committed suicide.
So long, Hartman.
Since Hartman figured out who | really was, | needed to ask Domenico for my next c action. | dialed his number.
“Emma, this is De Luca. Domenico has been shot and is unconscious. How can | help yo
“I've been found out, but the person is dead. What should | do?” | heard a couple of voices the background before | got an answer.
“Emma, this is Beaufort. Call in sick so we can assess the situation. Where are you now?”
“lm on my way home,” | answered, yawning.
“Can you drive to Mandan HQ?” Beaufort asked.novelbin
“| don’t know. I’m really tired.”
“That’s okay. Head to the warehouse behind the commercial complex. I'll have someone drive
you hare And ramamber call in sick
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CHAPTER 127 Staged
Finally, a day off.
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