Chapter 3 - THE MAN IN THE NAVY COAT
Emma stared at the image until the pixels blurred.
“That’s Grant’s coat.”
Nolan said nothing.
“The missing button happened last winter.”
Still nothing.
Emma looked at him.
“You can say it.”
“I don’t know enough yet.”
“Five minutes ago you were telling me not to trust him.”
“And five minutes ago, I didn’t have evidence someone deliberately made certain a camera saw his coat.”
That stopped her.
Nolan enlarged the image.
“Look.”
Emma leaned toward the screen.
The man’s left hand was visible.
Bare.
Grant wore his wedding ring even when things between them were terrible.
Almost obsessively.
Emma had once asked why.
He had said, Because being angry with you doesn’t make me unmarried.
The man in the photograph wore no ring.
Emma whispered, “Grant never takes his off.”
“Unless he did tonight.”
“Or unless that isn’t him.”
Nolan nodded.
Answer one.
Open two.
Emma checked the next camera.
The same figure crossed a hospital corridor carrying a red document envelope.
No clear face.
Another image showed him entering an elevator.
Then the trail disappeared.
Nolan clicked through authentication records.
“Badge used at 1:39.”
“Can badges be copied?”
“Yes.”
“Coats can be stolen.”
“Yes.”
“So we still don’t know.”
“No.”
Emma exhaled.
Part of her wanted Grant to be innocent.
Another part hated how desperate that desire made her feel.
Nolan opened another file.
“Here.”
A vendor registration form appeared.
HARBOR MEMORIAL TRANSFER SERVICES.
Scheduled pickup: 6:30 a.m.
Destination: private crematory.
Emma had cleaned around enough morgue paperwork to recognize legitimate transfer companies.
“I’ve never seen that company here.”
“Search the approved vendor sheet.”
She did.
Harbor Memorial was not listed.
Nolan looked at the time.
4:02.
“They’re not sending me to a crematory.”
“How do you know?”
“Because there’s no address.”
Emma looked again.
He was right.
Only a dispatch code appeared.
“Then where were they taking you?”
“That’s a very good question.”
A soft mechanical click sounded outside.
Emma froze.
The badge-controlled morgue door had locked.
Normally it remained unlocked from the inside.
She went to the staff-room door.
The hallway indicator had changed from green to red.
“Nolan.”
“I heard it.”
She tried her badge.
ACCESS RESTRICTED.
Nolan looked toward the laptop.
“Someone noticed the mortality record was accessed.”
“From an offline computer?”
“The file was copied offline. But that cabinet probably has a tamper sensor.”
“You could’ve mentioned that.”
“I’ve had a difficult evening.”
Emma almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead she grabbed the property bag.
“We need to move.”
“Where?”
“There’s an old linen sorting room behind pathology. They stopped using it when the laundry contract changed.”
“Can you get us there?”
“If the service doors still work.”
Nolan attempted to stand.
His knees buckled.
Emma caught him.
“You weigh approximately six thousand pounds.”
“I’m six-two.”
“That was not a compliment.”
He managed three steps.
Then five.
Emma wrapped his arm over her shoulders and dragged him through the preparation room.
Halfway down the corridor, she saw something lying near the coffin.
A brass button.
She stopped.
Nolan nearly fell.
“What?”
Emma picked it up.
The button had dark navy thread still attached.
Grant’s coat.
It had not been there when she first opened the coffin.
She would have noticed.
Someone had put it beside Nolan’s body.
“Why leave that?”
Nolan asked.
Emma looked at the coffin.
“To make sure somebody blamed Grant.”
“Or to make sure you did.”
Her skin prickled.
They reached the linen room.
Emma locked the door behind them and lowered Nolan onto a stack of folded transport blankets.
An ancient wall-mounted security monitor still displayed four service corridors.
Emma had assumed it was dead.
One screen flickered.
Then another.
Someone had activated the system remotely.
Camera 3 showed the morgue service elevator.
The number above it changed.
B2.
B1.
G.
Then descended again.
B1.
B2.
Emma whispered, “Someone’s coming down.”
Nolan struggled upright.
“Is there another exit?”
“Through pathology.”
“Take it.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll slow you down.”
“I did not drag you out of a coffin so you could volunteer to get murdered fifteen minutes later.”
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened.
A man stepped out.
Navy wool coat.
One brass button missing.
Emma’s heart seemed to stop.
This time the camera caught his face.
Grant.
Her husband looked exhausted.
His hair was uncombed.
His shirt collar was open.
And his wedding ring was exactly where it always was.
On his left hand.
Grant walked directly toward the morgue.
He used his employee badge.
The red light turned green.
Nolan stood despite Emma trying to stop him.
“Stay behind me.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I can still fall aggressively.”
Grant entered the corridor.
He immediately looked toward the linen-room camera.
Not accidentally.
Directly at it.
Emma felt cold.
Grant knew where they were.
A second later he disappeared from Camera 3.
Footsteps approached.
Emma grabbed the metal handle from a broken linen cart.
Nolan picked up nothing.
Apparently falling aggressively had been his entire defense strategy.
The door opened.
Grant stood there.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then Grant saw Nolan.
The blood drained from his face.
“My God.”
Nolan’s voice hardened.
“Disappointed?”
Grant looked at Emma.
Not Nolan.
Emma saw fear in his eyes.
Real fear.
“Emma,” he said quietly, “move away from him.”
Her grip tightened around the metal bar.
“Why?”
May you like
Grant looked past them toward the security camera.
“Because if Evelyn sees you standing beside Nolan Reeves, you won’t make it out of this hospital.”
