Chapter 14 : The Envelope
911 Words
The hospital lights were too bright.
Ethan lay back against the bed, staring at the ceiling.
The wound on his head had been treated, but every time he moved, even slightly, a dull ache pulsed through his temple.
He closed his eyes.
The scene at South Station came back to him.
Locker 314.
The black USB drive.
Three yellowed envelopes.
Then the two men who had suddenly appeared behind him.
And there was something else that bothered him.
How had they known he had the USB drive?
That could only mean one thing.
Someone had been watching him.
Ethan opened his eyes.
The door to the room opened.
Maya walked in, carrying a cup of coffee.
“How're you feeling?”
“Head hurts.”
“That's not exactly surprising.”
She put the coffee down on the table beside him.
“The doctor says you should stay here for observation tonight.”
“I’m fine. I'll go home later.”
“Come on. You just got hit in the head from behind.”
Maya looked at him.
“So don't tell me you're fine.”
Ethan didn't argue.
Maya pulled over a chair and sat down.
“Okay. We looked into that guy, Andre Turner.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Who was he?”
“We don't know yet.”
Maya shook her head.
“He doesn't have any obvious criminal record. At least, nothing we've found so far.”
“What about the other guy?”
“Still missing.”
She paused.
“But we're pulling surveillance footage from the area.”
Ethan nodded.
He didn't ask anything else.
Even if the police found the other man, Ethan wasn't sure they'd get the answer he really wanted.
Maya looked at him.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“Why did you go to that locker? Was what was inside yours?”
Ethan was quiet for a moment.
“No. It belonged to my professor.”
“Whitmore?”
“Yeah.”
Maya said nothing.
Ethan continued.
“I found the South Station rental receipt while I was going through his things. I asked one of the station employees about it, and he told me Whitmore had rented a locker there.”
“So you went there?”
“Yeah.”
Maya looked at him.
“Ethan.”
“Yeah?”
“If you were just there to collect Professor Whitmore's belongings, I can understand that.”
She paused.
“But someone just attacked you for something you took from that locker.”
“You need to be careful.”
“I know.”
Maya stood up.
“Okay. I'll have the guys keep digging into Andre Turner and his partner.”
She reached the door, then stopped.
“If you remember anything, or you find anything connected to this, tell me. Don't go looking for trouble on your own.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Okay.”
Maya left.
The room fell quiet again.
That evening, Ethan went back to his apartment.
He set his backpack on the table and carefully took out the three envelopes.
All three were yellowed with age.
They had clearly been sitting somewhere for a long time.
Ethan opened the first one.
Inside were several newspaper clippings.
One headline immediately caught his attention.
“New Advances in Antidepressant Drug Research.”
Ethan read through the material.
Most of it consisted of research reports and clinical trial information about newer drugs.
He set the papers aside and picked up the second envelope.
It had clearly been opened before.
There was nothing inside.
Ethan frowned.
An empty envelope?
He didn't dwell on it.
Instead, he picked up the third envelope.
The one marked:
523A.M.
Ethan stared at the letters and numbers for a while.
He still had no idea what they meant.
If it was a time...
Then it would be 5:23 in the morning.
But why would someone write a time on an envelope?
He had no answer.
Ethan slowly opened the envelope, hoping it might contain something useful.
There were two folded sheets of paper inside.
He opened the first one.
It was a list of patients, along with their medication records and observation reports.
Ethan read through it carefully.
At the top of the report was a name he recognized.
Riverside Private Clinic.
His brow tightened.
Not again.
He unfolded the second sheet.
There was only one sentence on it.
“I've looked through it. Some of the information was changed. I know you still don't trust me. Give it to her.”
Ethan froze.
Who had written this?
What had been changed?
Was it the patient list?
And then there was the other question.
Who was she?
Claire?
The more Ethan looked at the note, the less sense it made.
He placed both sheets on the table and stared at them for several seconds.
Then he pulled out his notebook.
He began organizing what he had so far.
“USB drive.”
“Andre Turner.”
“Patient list.”
“Whoever left this behind.”
“5:23 A.M.”
“Riverside Private Clinic.”
Ethan stopped writing.
There it was again.
From Whitmore's notes to Claire's disappearance, and now these documents—
Riverside Private Clinic kept showing up.
Ethan leaned back in his chair and sat there in silence for a few seconds.
Then he made up his mind.
He had to go back to Riverside Private Clinic.
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