Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN ROOM 604
Elena Russo was in a private hospital room under a false name.
That told Mia more than anyone explained.
Regular injured employees did not get private floors.
They did not get two armed men outside the door.
And they definitely did not have their charts removed from the hospital network.
Marco stood in the hallway with his hands in his coat pockets.
Still.
Too still.
Mia had already learned the difference.
When Marco Vitali was calm, he became quiet.
When Marco Vitali was angry, he became motionless.
Adrian spoke to a doctor near the nurses’ station.
Mia watched his hands.
Marco had told her to notice hands.
Adrian’s right hand kept touching the inside pocket of his jacket.
Not where a gun sat.
Where his phone sat.
Checking.
Waiting.
Nervous.
Interesting.
The doctor left.
Adrian approached.
“Two stab wounds. Significant blood loss. Concussion.”
“Conscious?” Marco asked.
“On and off.”
“Who brought her?”
“Anonymous drop at the emergency entrance.”
Mia said, “Convenient.”
Adrian’s eyes shifted to her.
“You have a habit of commenting on things that don’t concern you.”
Mia smiled.
“It’s why I’m employable.”
Marco’s mouth twitched.
Adrian saw.
His expression hardened.
“Marco.”
“What?”
“This is exactly what happened last time.”
Elena.
Mia looked toward the hospital door.
“Then perhaps someone should try something different.”
Adrian stared.
Marco said, “She goes in.”
“No.”
Marco looked at him.
Adrian corrected himself.
“She should not.”
Interesting again.
Marco’s voice went quiet.
“Why?”
“Because Elena may be compromised.”
“Then Mia needs to see her.”
“That logic is insane.”
“Most useful logic is.”
Adrian swore in Italian.
Mia understood none of it.
Marco apparently did.
He almost smiled.
Then he opened the door.
Elena looked smaller than the blood on the keyboard had made her seem.
Dark hair.
Bruising along one temple.
Bandages under the hospital gown.
Her left hand wrapped heavily.
She opened her eyes when Marco approached.
Fear flashed.
Not of him.
Past him.
Toward the door.
Marco noticed.
He closed it.
Mia stayed several feet away.
Elena looked at her.
“Who?”
“Mia Callaway.”
That name changed her.
Her heart monitor accelerated.
Marco looked from Elena to Mia.
“You know her?”
Elena whispered, “Reed said she’d come.”
Mia stopped breathing.
“What?”
“Elena,” Marco said.
She turned toward him.
“You were supposed to leave the job empty.”
“I tried.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Her voice was weak, but anger made it clear.
“You brought exactly who they wanted.”
Mia stepped closer.
“Who wanted me?”
Elena looked at her.
“Hartwell.”
The monitor continued its steady rhythm.
Mia felt cold.
“I was fired.”
“You were released.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Elena’s eyes closed briefly.
“They wanted you outside the building.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel trusted you.”
Mia shook her head.
“He barely knew me.”
“He watched you.”
That sounded terrible.
Elena saw her expression.
“Not like that.”
“Then explain.”
“He tested people.”
“What does that mean?”
“He left errors.”
Mia remembered.
Minor discrepancies.
Odd vendor codes.
Transactions that did not reconcile.
She had flagged all of them.
At the time, she thought Daniel was sloppy.
“He was testing who corrected them,” Elena whispered.
Mia stared.
“Why?”
“To find someone who would notice without being told.”
Her stomach tightened.
Marco moved closer.
“What did Reed tell you?”
Elena looked at him.
“You first.”
His face hardened.
“Elena.”
She smiled weakly.
“You’re still terrible at asking.”
Mia almost liked her.
Then Elena looked back.
“Daniel knew Hartwell was building exposure files on companies. Criminal, legitimate, political. He wanted to get the archive out.”
“The drive,” Mia said.
Elena nodded.
“He brought one copy to Marco.”
“Where is it?”
“I took it.”
Marco’s jaw tightened.
Mia looked at him.
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
Elena whispered, “Because your office was compromised.”
Marco went very still.
Adrian.
The guards.
His attorney.
Whoever.
“Who?” Marco asked.
Elena shook her head.
“I didn’t know.”
“Then why take it?”
“Daniel told me if he died, the drive had to leave the building.”
Mia stepped closer.
“Where did you put it?”
Elena’s eyes found hers.
“I didn’t.”
“What?”
“I gave it away.”
“To who?”
“Someone Hartwell would never search.”
“Who?”
Elena looked at Marco.
Then back to Mia.
“Your mother.”
The room disappeared.
Mia actually sat down because her knees stopped cooperating.
“My mother?”
“Elise Callaway.”
“How do you know her?”
“Daniel did.”
“No.”
Her mother taught piano out of a small house in Bridgeport.
She had arthritis.
She watched British crime shows and complained about grocery prices.
She did not take evidence drives from wounded compliance officers.
Elena watched Mia process it.
“She worked at Hartwell.”
Mia laughed once.
“No.”
“Twenty-seven years ago.”
“No.”
“Records department.”
Mia stared.
Her mother had always said she worked at an insurance office before Mia was born.
Maybe Hartwell had been the insurance office.
Maybe everyone in Mia’s life had developed a religion around partial truth.
“What did Daniel give her?”
“The drive.”
“When?”
“Two months before he died.”
“Then why bring another drive to Marco?”
“Different copy.”
Mia looked at Marco.
“Redundancy.”
He nodded.
Elena whispered, “Daniel trusted no single archive.”
Smart.
Someone entered the hall outside.
Elena’s eyes widened.
Her breathing changed.
Marco saw.
He turned toward the door.
“Who are you afraid of?”
Elena shook her head.
“Don’t.”
“Who?”
“Marco.”
His name came out broken.
“Don’t trust Luca.”
The door opened.
A nurse entered.
Elena jerked.
The nurse stopped.
“Medication.”
Marco watched every movement.
Mia did too.
The nurse scanned the bag.
Checked the line.
Professional.
Normal.
Still, Elena stared until she left.
Marco looked back.
“My brother?”
Elena whispered, “Not Luca.”
Mia frowned.
“You just said don’t trust Luca.”
Elena’s eyes closed.
“Not Luca.”
“What does that mean?”
“Not Luca…”
She struggled for breath.
“…alone.”
Marco’s face changed.
The monitor alarmed.
Nurses rushed in.
Mia and Marco were pushed out.
In the hallway, Adrian stood.
Too close to the door.
“Did she say anything?”
Marco looked at him.
“No.”
Lie.
Mia noticed how easily it came.
Adrian looked at her.
“And you?”
Mia shrugged.
“She said the hospital food is terrible.”
Adrian stared.
Marco walked toward the elevators.
Mia followed.
At the far end of the hall, Marco said quietly, “Thank you.”
“For lying?”
“For understanding when.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“You realize you hired me because I got fired for refusing to ignore bad numbers.”
“I know.”
“And now you’re asking me to participate in selective memory.”
“Yes.”
She stopped.
“So where’s the line?”
Marco stopped too.
People moved around them.
Nurses.
Orderlies.
Families.
Ordinary traffic around an extraordinary conversation.
Marco looked at her.
“The line is wherever you decide it is.”
That surprised her.
Mia crossed her arms.
“That sounds suspiciously respectful.”
“I have occasional episodes.”
“You should see a doctor.”
The ghost smile.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
No greeting.
His expression changed.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Do not touch anything.”
He disconnected.
“What?”
Marco looked at Adrian, who had remained near Elena’s room.
Then at Mia.
“Someone broke into your mother’s house.”
The hallway tilted.
“Is she there?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“I had someone watching.”
Mia’s anger arrived instantly.
“You what?”
“After the message this morning.”
“You put surveillance on my mother without telling me.”
“Protection.”
“No.”
He stopped.
She pointed at him.
“Do not use that word like it erases consent.”
His face hardened, but not at her.
At himself.
“You’re right.”
Mia blinked.
Too easy.
Too fast.
Maybe he meant it.
“We’ll discuss it later,” he said. “Right now, your mother is missing.”
Mia’s blood went cold.
“What do you mean missing?”
“She left the house at six twelve.”
“For where?”
“We don’t know.”
Before the next call came, Mia looked through the narrow hospital window at Elena.
The young woman had fallen asleep again.
Bandages.
Bruises.
A woman Mia had met less than an hour earlier, yet already felt linked to by something more complicated than employment.
Four assistants in eight months.
Marco had described that number like attrition.
Now Mia wondered how many of those women had left because they had seen the same shape forming around them.
She turned to him.
“What happened to the first three?”
His expression tightened.
“I told you.”
“Not enough.”
He considered resisting.
Then didn’t.
“The first discovered unauthorized access to my calendar. She quit.”
“Smart.”
“Yes.”
“The second was followed home. She survived.”
“And the third?”
“She found a Hartwell vendor code in a property file.”
Mia stared.
“What did she do?”
“She gave it to me.”
“And?”
“I told her I would handle it.”
Mia laughed bitterly.
“There’s that sentence.”
“I know.”
“What happened to her?”
“She received photographs of her son outside school.”
Mia went cold.
“She left the country.”
“Yes.”
“And you still kept hiring assistants.”
Marco looked ashamed.
That was new.
“I told myself replacing them was better than changing the structure.”
“Because?”
“Because the structure was mine.”
There it was.
Ownership pretending to be necessity.
Mia glanced toward Elena.
“You understand how bad that sounds.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Marco’s phone vibrated first.
Then Mia’s began ringing.
Her phone began ringing.
MOM.
Mia answered.
“Mom?”
Her mother’s voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Mia, I need you to listen without interrupting.”
Every childhood instinct woke.
“Where are you?”
“I’m safe.”
“That is not an address.”
“Mia.”
She stopped.
Her mother continued.
“Daniel Reed told me someday people might come looking for what he left.”
Mia closed her eyes.
“So Elena was telling the truth.”
A pause.
“Elena is alive?”
“Yes.”
Her mother exhaled.
“Good.”
“Mom, where are you?”
“I moved the drive this morning.”
“Where?”
“I’m not telling you on the phone.”
Marco watched her face.
Mia turned slightly away.
Her mother said, “There is one thing you need to know before you trust Marco Vitali.”
Mia looked at him.
“What?”
May you like
Elise lowered her voice.
“His father ordered the operation that killed yours.”
