Page 16 of Day Shift

I scoffed. “Freedom of the press doesn’t give you the right to harass patients or hospital staff. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” With that, I brushed past him, swiping my badge to enter the ICU.

I made my way to Jane Doe’s room and paused next to her bed. There she was, lying unconscious, her features tranquil despite the jungle of tubes and wires attached to her. She looked like some kind of refined princess from a storybook, all grace and mystery, resting in a glass case—a sleeping beauty, untouched by the real world.

Standing there, watching her, I felt like a damn monster—a guy covered in tattoos, each one a marker of past fights and darker days. My exterior might have been tough, but it was nothing compared to the ugliness trying to claw its way out of my heart. My childhood had left me jaded and untrusting. I had always put on a good front, acting like the easygoing golden retriever who didn’t take life too seriously. But ever since I was a kid, I’d known life mostly sucked. So why not live in the moment? If life had taught me one thing, it was that none of us were guaranteed a tomorrow.

I leaned in, keeping my voice low as the monitors beeped in the background. “I’ve got your back, pretty angel. I won’t let any more harm come to you.” It was more than a promise; it felt like a vow. Being this close to her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that fate had thrown us together for some higher purpose. Here I was, a beast, and there she was, a beauty—our lives slammed together by some twist of destiny.

Feeling a lingering sense of duty, I straightened up and headed back out, only to find Niles waiting like a vulture. But my mind was still back in that room with her. She and I, we were worlds apart and yet inexplicably linked. This wasn’t just about protecting her from the prying eyes of the world—it was about protecting something more, something I couldn’t explain.

“Did you see her?” Niles asked, sounding like an incessantly annoying mosquito. “What can you tell us about her condition?”

My frustration boiled over. “I told you to back off,” I growled, stepping close enough to see him reconsider his stance. Without another word, I pushed past him.

I reported the incident to the on-duty nurse manager before walking out to my Jeep, my curiosity about our Jane Doe hanging over me like a cloud.

Chapter seven

Tate and I rolled up to the sprawling estate to find a couple of Tacoma police cruisers parked out front, their lights throwing splashes of blue and red across the front of the building. We’d barely stepped out of the car when a cop marched over to us, his face all business.

“Gentlemen, can I be of some help to you?” he asked. “This is a private home, and it’s currently being searched by the police.” He crossed his arms, as if that would somehow intimidate us.

Tate didn’t miss a beat. “I’m Harrison Tate, trustee of the estate. This property was recently transferred to a trust under my management.” He opened the back door of his car and rummaged around, snagging his briefcase. After flipping it open, he showed the cop the deed and trust documents.

The officer perused the paperwork. “I need to confirm a few details about the information you’ve provided,” he told us before pulling out his radio and speaking into it. After several minutes of back and forth with various individuals, he nodded and turned back to us. “Everything checks out. The chief says Mr. Tate was just at the station, and he knows all about the ownership change. We’re just wrapping up our search here.” He eyed me suspiciously and sighed but proceeded to run us through the morning’s chaos.

“A few hours ago, someone broke in through the service entrance and tripped the surveillance alarms we had set up in conjunction with the FBI,” he said. “Seems like she hadn’t made it far inside when our sirens spooked her. She bolted, took one of the estate’s cars, and…well, ended up wrapping it around a tree down the road—critically injuring herself.”

The cop paused as his radio crackled with chatter from another officer. “She had no ID on her and is currently listed as a Jane Doe over at St. John’s. If she pulls through, she’ll be facing charges for breaking and entering, theft, and property damage, among others.”

Tate rubbed his chin and glanced over at me, his brows pinched tight. I was taken aback by this whole situation. What were the chances that something like this would happen the day after the ownership of the estate changed hands and I was locked up? This had mafia written all over it.

“Mr. Tate,” the officer began, “this woman who broke into the estate earlier today…do you have any idea who she might be?”

“No clue,” he replied. I racked my brain for any woman that could be involved, but no one came to mind. Tate nodded, scribbling notes. “Thank you, officer. Please keep us updated on her condition and any legal steps we need to take regarding the charges.” Reaching once again into his briefcase, he pulled out a couple of business cards and handed them to the officer, who stuck them in his shirt pocket and walked away.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this situation. Tate and I went to the service entrance and surveyed the damage there. It wasn’t much, just some broken glass.

“Replace this with a metal security door and deadbolts,” I said to Tate. “Let’s get a crew out here. There are lots of changes I want to make right away. I wonder if this was a professional job or random? Looks to me like she knew the most vulnerable way in.”

“Suspicious for sure,” he said. “With Viktor, there could be any number of folks interested in seeing what they might find inside.” He pressed his lips together tightly and shook his head. “I hope your father was careful about his privacy, even at home.”

“He was, but as you know, he left unexpectedly and in a hurry.” My sixth sense told me something bad was up. I always got this feeling in my gut before I was hit with bad news.

We watched the police finish up, and the red and blue lights disappeared one by one as they cleared out, leaving us to ponder the mess that was now ours to sort out.

Once inside the house, I immediately set to work reestablishing the security measures we’d previously had in place. I needed to make sure we were protected from additional break-ins and prying eyes.

The rest of the day blurred into a frenzy of activity. We coordinated with the DarkMatter crew to sweep the house for bugs, remove and dismantle any potentially compromised devices, and install new surveillance tech. The crew had no idea who I was. They only knew the boss man had ordered the best guys from the firm to haul their asses over here, pronto, and install the highest level of security. I oversaw everything, ensuring no stone was left unturned.

It was late when things finally started to calm down. Exhausted, I flopped down onto the living room sofa and flicked on the TV, hoping to catch something mindless so I could unwind. Instead, the local news was on, and the anchor was discussing a critical accident involving an unidentified woman, who was now at St. John’s Hospital. I knew instantly from the image of the car that they were reporting on our break-in.

My heart nearly stopped when a picture of the beautiful Jane Doe flashed up on the screen. Despite all the bruises and the large cut on her head, her features resembled someone I knew far too well—Anastasia.

Just then, one of the DarkMatter crew, who had been finishing up for the night, came in, holding a cell phone.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said. “Found this in the garage, near where the stolen car was parked.” I took the phone, and my gut twisted.

He followed me into the kitchen, where I pulled out my laptop from its bag. I connected the phone to the computer and began hacking into it. Even though my laptop had been taken into police custody when they’d hauled me in from the airport, I hadn’t been worried about them accessing any of the data. I had everything locked down tight. My paranoia and skill were unmatched. Moments later, I was in, and what I saw floored me. The contacts, the photos—it was Anastasia’s phone. My mind hadn’t had time to process the images from the news, but this confirmed what I’d seen. Fuck!

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