Chapter 8: The Woman Who Replaced the Flowers
I kept my voice even.
"I'm listening."
"Good." Renata Hartley's tone was the kind that expected to be obeyed without needing to raise itself.
"I want you to understand that I don't blame you for what you've done.
You found something alarming and you reacted.
That's human.
But you're operating with incomplete information, and the people you've chosen to trust have their own interests that don't necessarily align with yours."
Gale made a small gesture with his hand.
Keep her talking.
"What information am I missing?" I asked.
"My brother is not the man his reputation suggests.
The Hartley organization has caused significant harm to a significant number of people, Ms.
Voss.
What I have done — what I have managed — has prevented a great deal more harm from occurring.
The people who depend on the legitimate side of our family's business needed stability.
Owen was not capable of providing that."
"So you decided for him."
"I made difficult decisions that he was not in a position to make." A pause.
Not guilt.
Recalibration.
"The compound was a precaution.
Nothing more.
He was not suffering.
He was not in pain.
He was simply...
paused."
"For two years."
"For long enough." Her voice cooled slightly.
"Ms.
Voss, I am prepared to be generous.
You are a young woman working night shifts in a hospital.
I can change that.
Significantly.
All I need is the vial and your written statement that you found nothing unusual in Suite 914."
Gale's jaw tightened.
He shook his head once.
"And if I say no?" I asked.
"Then things become complicated for you." The warmth left her voice entirely.
"You entered a restricted private suite outside your assigned duties.
You removed medical property from a patient's room.
You took that property to a private attorney without reporting it to hospital administration or law enforcement.
There are several ways to characterize what you did last night, Ms.
Voss, and not all of them are flattering."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a description of reality." She let it settle.
"I'm offering you a way out of a situation that is about to become very difficult for a woman in your position.
I suggest you take it."
I looked at Gale.
He was already writing something on a notepad.
He turned it toward me.
*Ask her about Carla Reyes.*
"Where is Carla Reyes?" I said.
Silence.
Three full seconds of it.
"I don't know who that is," Renata said.
"She's the night nurse who administered the compound.
She's been missing for two days." I kept my voice steady.
"If you don't know who she is, that's interesting.
Because her employment records show she was referred to St.
Anne's by a staffing agency called Meridian Health Partners.
Which is a subsidiary of RH Capital Partners.
Which is yours."
The silence this time was different.
Harder.
"You've been busy," Renata said.
"I had a long night."
"Ms.
Voss." Her voice had dropped.
The polish was still there, but something underneath it had shifted — something that recognized the conversation had not gone the way she had planned.
"You are making a very serious mistake."
"The warrant for the hospital's medication records was issued an hour ago," I said.
"The lab results on the vial are already with the district attorney's office.
And this call has been on speaker since you dialed." I looked at Gale.
"Is there anything else you'd like to add?"
Gale leaned toward the phone.
"Ms.
Hartley," he said, "this is Martin Gale.
I'd recommend you stop speaking and call your attorney.
Immediately."
The line went d*ad.
Gale sat back.
He looked at me for a moment.
"You did well," he said.
I put my phone down on the table.
My hands were not shaking this time.
"She mentioned Carla Reyes before you showed me the notepad," I said.
"I already knew the name."
Gale almost smiled again.
"I know.
I wanted to see if she'd slip."
"She did."
"She did." He stood.
"Diane's office will have everything they need from that call.
Renata's attorney will advise her to cooperate partially and deny the rest.
It won't be enough." He straightened his jacket.
"It's almost over, Ms.
Voss."
I thought about Owen in his bed in Suite 914.
Two years of white lilies from a sister who had been watching him like a warden watches a cell.
May you like
"Not yet," I said.
"But close."
