The Girl and the Unlucky 13 (Emma Griffin™ FBI Mystery) A.J. Rivers (historical books to read TXT) 📖

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“The request was put into the hospital administrator’s office this morning. It stated you wanted Ashley Stevenson moved to Gunter Memorial for admission into the secure mental health ward for observation and monitoring. It stated she would be better protected there, and it is your professional opinion that she has been through such a horrific experience she is not in a mentally sound enough state to face the investigation and the potential of a trial,” Dr. Floriani says.

“Emma, how could you do this?” Misty asks.

“I didn’t,” I frown, then turn back to the doctor. “Why are you just saying this now? Why didn’t you mention before that I’m supposedly the one who put in this request?”

“I thought it was of such sensitive nature and could be part of the criminal investigation, so it was better if I left the details out of it,” he says. “It seems that might not have been the best choice.”

“That is a tremendous understatement,” I say. “Considering that I had nothing to do with this.”

“You didn’t put in the request?” Misty asks.

“No.” I shake my head. “Why would I go to the extent I have to ensure there is so much security around here if I was just going to have her moved somewhere else? How did this request come in?”

“It was a phone message,” the doctor explains. “The hospital administrator called Gunter Memorial and they say they received a similar message asking that space be prepared for her arrival.”

“You listened to a phone message claiming to be from an FBI agent handling a kidnapping case and you just took it for face value?” I ask incredulously.

“It wasn’t my decision,” the doctor protests. “The administrator…”

“I need to speak with the administrator,” I cut him off. “Right now.”

“I’ll show you to his office.”

Misty looks confused and afraid when I make eye contact with her again. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get this straightened out. You stay with Ashley and don’t let anyone move her. No matter what anyone says, don’t let anyone into the room unless it’s a doctor or nurse you already know. I’ll be back.” I look at the officer and point at the door. “No one in. No one out.” He nods, gulping, and I walk away.

The wait outside the administrator’s office only gets me more frustrated. It’s as if this place is designed to irritate me. Finally, after what feels like forever, the secretary lets me in. The hospital administrator stands and extends his hand to me from behind his desk.

“Hello,” he says with the kind of smile that comes only from thinking he can do no wrong and defies anyone to think otherwise. “Elton McCarthy.”

“Agent Emma Griffin,” I say.

“Of course,” he says. “I got your message earlier and I have ensured the process is underway. Ashley Stevenson will be safely transferred to the unit this afternoon.”

The smile becomes even more self-satisfied. As though he’s positive I’m here to thank him and praise him for the smooth, swift action of his administration. Hopefully, the look on my face is giving him a hint that’s not the case.

“That would be great news, if it wasn’t for the tiny detail that I’m not the one who left that message,” I say.

The smile falters. “Your name was very clearly stated. Along with your credentials and an explanation of your involvement in the case. I’d seen you on the news making statements about the case before Ashley resurfaced, so I was comfortable with its authenticity.”

“Play me the message,” I say.

I’d like to think I have it in me somewhere to be patient and tolerant, but this is not a moment to try out that theory. I need to find out what the hell is going on, and that takes precedence.

He plays back the message for me and I’m stunned at what I’m hearing. When it’s done, I point at the phone.

“Do you think that message sounds anything like my voice?” I deadpan him.

“To be fair, Agent Griffin, this is the first time I’m speaking to you in person,” he says.

“Yes, but you just said yourself you saw me on the news talking about the case. Which means you have heard me speak before. When you heard that message, did you think it sounded like me?” I ask.

“I can’t say.”

“What you’re telling me is you got a phone message stating it was me, essentially demanding the relocation of a patient who has been missing for five years, who has clearly been through some very serious abuse, and you took it as gospel. No warrant. No documentation. No court order. A phone message that could easily be snuggled right in there between an invitation to lunch and someone calling out sick for tomorrow. You didn’t think it needed any form of verification? That perhaps you should speak to the investigators, or at the very least, to the person who supposedly left the message?” I ask.

“I didn’t know the proper protocol for a situation such as this,” Elton says. “It isn’t something I’ve encountered in my career. I’ve never received a phone call from an FBI agent about one of my patients before.”

“You still haven’t,” I point out, my voice rising in pitch.

“I apologize,” he says, finally looking less smug, as though the gravity of what he almost allowed to happen is sinking in. “It was a mistake.”

“Yes,” I nod. “It was. And it could have had serious consequences if it went through. Ashley is still in very real danger. I don’t know how to emphasize that enough. Yes, she is here now. She got away from wherever she’s been for these past five years. But there’s someone who wanted her five years ago and who wants her now. Nobody let her go. She escaped. And until we find out who that person is and have him in custody, she is at risk. It’s things like this that could hand her right back over to someone waiting to keep