Chapter 7 - THE PEOPLE WHO LOST THEIR NAMES
“The first eight accounts were already closed.”
I stared at Detective Reyes.
“Does that mean eight people are dead?”
“No,” she answered. “It means their accounts were marked closed. We need to establish what actually happened.”
Dominic leaned forward.
“Are the residents missing?”
“Some have documented transfers. Others have incomplete records.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Then somebody needs to find them.”
“We're working on that,” she said.
But I could hear how carefully she was choosing her words.
An investigation took time.
Police needed records.
Hospitals needed to confirm identities.
Families needed to be contacted.
And somewhere out there, people might be sitting alone in unfamiliar rooms, wondering why nobody had come for them.
Just as Mom had been.
Dominic stood.
“Leo can locate the facilities connected to those transfers.”
Detective Reyes looked at him.
“Mr. Caruso, your security team can provide information, but they cannot interfere with witnesses or evidence.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
He met her eyes.
“I do.”
For a moment, I wasn't certain he meant it.
Then he turned toward Leo.
“Give the investigators whatever public ownership information we have. No private visits. No pressure.”
Leo nodded.
It was the first time I'd seen Dominic deliberately choose restraint when anger would've been easier.
A nurse appeared from Mom's room.
“Miss Sullivan? Your mother is awake.”
I hurried inside.
She was sitting up, drinking water.
Her yellow shawl lay across the foot of the bed.
“Mom?”
She smiled weakly.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
I sat beside her.
“Do you remember anyone from Willow Gardens being moved suddenly?”
She frowned.
“Why?”
“Because investigators found a list of people whose accounts were closed.”
Her expression changed.
“Oh.”
I leaned closer.
“What is it?”
“There was a woman named Dorothy Lane.”
“Who was she?”
“She lived across the hall from me.”
Mom looked toward the window.
“Her daughter visited every Saturday. Always brought lemon cookies.”
“What happened to her?”
“One morning, Dorothy was gone.”
“Did they say where?”
“Mr. Vance said her family had arranged a transfer.”
“Did you believe him?”
Mom hesitated.
“I didn't think it was my business.”
Her voice trembled.
“Then her daughter came that Saturday, and they wouldn't let her inside.”
My stomach turned.
“What did the daughter do?”
“She cried. I heard her in the hallway.”
Mom wiped her cheeks.
“Vance told her Dorothy was no longer a resident.”
I reached for her hand.
“Mom, did you ever see Dorothy again?”
She shook her head.
“But I saw her blue cardigan.”
“Where?”
“In the laundry cart. Two days later.”
I frowned.
“Was it being washed?”
“No. It was in a bag with the things they were throwing away.”
My chest tightened.
That detail stayed with me.
Not a dramatic clue.
Not some hidden secret.
A blue cardigan.
The sort of thing a daughter might buy her mother for Christmas.
Something that should've followed Dorothy wherever she went.
Instead, someone had thrown it away.
I stepped into the hallway and told Detective Reyes.
She made a note.
“That's worth checking.”
Then she asked June whether she'd be willing to speak with another investigator later.
Mom nodded.
“I'll tell them anything I remember.”
The following afternoon, an employee from Willow Gardens agreed to give a statement.
Her name was Leah Torres.
She was a forty-four-year-old registered nurse with tired eyes and hands that wouldn't stop twisting together.
I met her in a hospital family room with Detective Reyes present.
Dominic waited nearby.
Leah looked at me.
“I'm sorry about your mother.”
I didn't answer.
She lowered her eyes.
“I should've spoken sooner.”
“Why didn't you?”
She swallowed.
“Because I thought if the facility closed, forty residents would have nowhere to go.”
I stared at her.
“And that made locking my mother in a room acceptable?”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“No, it didn't.”
She explained that Willow Gardens had been struggling financially.
Staffing costs were rising.
Several residents couldn't afford additional care.
And Victor Rourke had promised to keep the facility operating if employees followed new administrative procedures.
At first, those procedures sounded ordinary.
Transfer paperwork.
Billing adjustments.
Changes in room assignments.
Then the records became stranger.
Residents were marked discharged before transportation arrived.
Families were told different stories.
And certain belongings disappeared into storage.
“I complained to Vance,” Leah said.
“What did he tell you?” Detective Reyes asked.
“That the corporate office handled the paperwork.”
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
She rubbed her hands.
“Then I saw June's name.”
I leaned forward.
“What about it?”
“Her record was marked deceased.”
My throat tightened.
“But Leah, you were caring for her.”
“I know.”
“Then how could you let it happen?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I told Vance it was wrong. He said it was a temporary coding error.”
“Did you correct it?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
She looked toward the detective.
“My access was removed.”
The room went silent.
Leah continued.
“I was told to take unpaid leave while the corporate office reviewed my performance.”
Dominic's jaw tightened.
“Rourke?”
She nodded.
“He approved it.”
Detective Reyes asked about Evelyn Mercer.
Leah went pale.
“I saw her.”
My heart pounded.
“When?”
“The night she came to visit June.”
“Was she alive when you last saw her?”
“Yes.”
Leah swallowed.
“She was standing near Mr. Vance's office. Victor Rourke was there.”
I gripped the edge of my chair.
“Did they argue?”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
“She said she had documents proving what he'd done to the Caruso family.”
Dominic stepped closer.
Leah looked at him.
“She said your father hadn't signed away his property willingly.”
His expression hardened.
“What did Rourke say?”
Leah shook her head.
“I couldn't hear everything.”
“Did he touch her?”
“I saw him grab her arm.”
My stomach turned.
“Then what?”
“She pulled away. Vance stepped between them.”
Leah's voice began shaking.
“And I heard something fall.”
Detective Reyes leaned forward.
“What fell?”
“I don't know. I went toward the room, but Vance told me to leave.”
“Did you see Evelyn afterward?”
Leah nodded.
“She was sitting on the floor. Her head was bleeding.”
I covered my mouth.
“Did you help her?”
“I tried.”
Leah began crying.
“But Vance said an ambulance was already coming.”
Detective Reyes looked at her.
“Was one called?”
Leah shook her head.
“Not until much later.”
Dominic's face went pale.
Leah looked directly at me.
“Before they moved her, Evelyn grabbed my hand.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What did she say?”
Leah swallowed.
“She told me to find Maggie Sullivan.”
My eyes filled.
“And?”
“She said, ‘Tell my daughter I didn't abandon her.’”
Then Leah started crying harder.
“There's something else. She made me promise I'd tell you.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
Leah wiped her cheeks.
“She said the man who caused the fire wasn't Victor Rourke.”
Dominic stopped breathing.
May you like
Leah looked toward him.
“She said it was someone your father trusted enough to give his own house keys.”
