The Alpha’s Forbidden Claim

19

Four hours later, someone called my name. I looked up to see a haggard-looking nurse and said a silent thank you to whoever was listening; the battery on my phone was getting pretty low, and you could only play so many games of Sudoku or read so many articles in Better Homes and Gardens. The sick children had gone in a while ago, replaced by a woman with a pronounced limp and a man so pale I was worried he might pass out before he was seen.

I wasn’t surprised that the nurse looked positively exhausted as she led me back. The only words out of her mouth were a confirmation of my name and asking me to step on the scale. Once she had my weight, she led me back to a small room and nodded inside. “The doctor will see you as soon as he’s able,” she said, closing the door before I could ask how long that might be.

Uh-oh.

I tried to make myself comfortable in the chair, though it wasn’t any better than those in the waiting room. I looked at the plastic rack, sighing as I realized there was one lonely magazine. People…dated 1998. Great. I reached up to grab it anyways, flipping idly through the pages. Well, better than nothing.

It was at least another half-hour before I was seen, and the doctor looked even more exhausted than the nurse as he let himself inside. His shaggy gray hair fell over his glasses as he closed the door, greeting me tiredly as he sat in his chair.

“My name is Dr. Zither. It’s nice to meet you, miss—” He flipped the page. “Iris?”

I nodded. “That’s me.”

“Okay, good. And your intake form says you’ve come in today because you’ve had a pain in your chest that’s been bothering you for the last five days, and it isn’t getting any better?”

I reached up to touch my chest almost instinctively, forcing myself to put my hand back down as I cleared my throat. It’s now or never. Dr. Zither was human and exhausted, and I hoped both of those would work in my favor. “I’m hoping you could help me, actually. One of my friends went missing recently, and this was the last place she was seen.”

The doctor set the folder down on the small table and swiveled to face me, his expression dry. He looked at me over his glasses. It would almost have been comical if not for how tired the man looked. “So… you aren’t experiencing any chest pains?”

“No…” I murmured, my mouth tugging to one side. “Well, no more than normal, anyway. Did you see Cynthia Smith when she came in?”

Dr. Zither ignored my question, leaning forward as he scrunched his brows together. “No more than normal? You normally have chest pains?”

I sighed. Why did I say that?

“Yes,” I admitted, shrugging one shoulder. “I have a pacemaker. I’ve had it the last fifteen years.” It wasn’t a big deal. It still bothered me every once in a while, which is why it was the first thing that came to mind when the nurse insisted I either tell her what my ‘symptoms’ were or leave. “Did you see any of the other missing people? I know at least six had been here in a few days before — if not the day — they disappeared.”

The doctor leaned a little closer. “Have you had anyone check your pacemaker lately? You know those batteries don’t last forever.”

I frowned, annoyed he wouldn’t let the issue go. “I had it replaced before I went to college.” It was a half-truth. My foster parents had it replaced before I turned eighteen when I was still covered by insurance as a child. It wasn’t the worst idea, in truth, but that was seven years or so ago, and the lifespan of those batteries was only five to fifteen years.

Just one more thing to worry about.

The doctor seemed to read my mind, grabbing his stethoscope and rolling closer. I sighed and tipped my chin back, allowing him to press the metal to my shirt and listen to the beat of my heart. After a few moments, he rolled back, his expression unchanged. “I don’t hear anything I wouldn’t expect,” he told me, “but if it’s been some time, you need to get in touch with your cardiologist. I’m afraid I can’t do anything else for you in that regard.”

I sighed. “And the missing people?”

The doctor gave me a flat look. “I’m trying really hard to give you the benefit of the doubt and pretend you’re in here to check on your pacemaker, miss. Because even a reporter or undercover cop or private detective would know that, even if I had seen any of those people, and I could remember them over the crush of work I have daily, I cannot talk about any patient without their consent due to HIPAA.” He gave me a tight smile. “If your chest hurts again, take some aspirin, and go see your cardiologist.”

“Are you sure—”

“It was interesting meeting you, Miss Iris. Have a good afternoon.”

He was on his feet and out the door, already being rushed to the next room the moment he was in the hallway. I sighed, gathering my things to see myself out. So much for that, I thought grimly, taking a subtle look down the hallway. Guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.

I walked as slowly as possible without seeming like I was loitering, trying to determine what security was like at this place. I couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t be different after hours, but I’d at least managed to locate a few of their cameras. I’ll be back, I thought, quoting one of my favorite not-Disney movies before heading to my car. The Land Rover was exactly where I left it, and I smiled.

Hope you enjoyed the heat, boys.

The Land Rover followed me back to the motel, and I offered them a cheeky wave as I stepped out of my car and let myself into the room. That seemed to get their attention; the big black SUV sped away as I chuckled. Being surveilled wasn’t new, and at least I had a pretty good idea of why Eli thought he needed to tail me, but if I could get rid of them before they became problematic, that would be ideal.

Once inside, I set my bag down and gave the room a once-over. Well, looks like this is going to be home for the next few weeks.

I had assumed this would be an open-and-shut case. That Cyn had disappeared because she wanted to, either because sober life wasn’t working out for her or because she wanted a fresh start with people who didn’t know her history. I’d found no evidence of either scenario; the only details I’d uncovered so far pointed to something much bigger, and while that wasn’t exactly what I was being paid to do… I wouldn’t get paid until I found Cyn.

I gave myself a little stretch before heading to the largest wall, starting to remove the standard photos, scrunching my nose as I realized how much dust was on the frames. Gross. They were tucked onto one of the rickety chairs.