Page 38 of Whispers in the Dark
Charlotte found her voice. “We found him on my back porch. Someone left him there to die. We think his name is Henry Byron.”
Paul’s head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing. “You’re telling me this isn’t just accidental exposure? Someone put him there?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she bit out.
Paul exhaled sharply and turned back to the patient. “We’ll do our best to stabilize him, but if he was out there too long, there’s a real chance of death or permanent damage. Kidneys, heart, even brain function. You need to find out who did this.”
Alex’s voice was cold, steady. “We will.”
Charlotte’s stomach twisted as she watched Paul press a stethoscope to Henry’s chest. A nurse adjusted the warming device around his frail body while another inserted a second IV. Machines beeped, their rhythms shifting with each adjustment.
A choked noise broke through the chaos. The man’s fingers twitched. His eyelids fluttered, just for a second.
Charlotte sucked in a breath. “He’s trying to say something.”
Paul glanced at her. “Then let’s make sure he lives long enough to tell us who did this.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping as he spoke directly to the unconscious man. “Come on, stay with us. You’ve been through hell, but you’re not done yet.” He pressed a firm hand against the man’s shoulder, grounding him in whatever flickering consciousness he had left. “We need you to fight.”
The monitors beeped steadily, showing no dramatic improvement, but no decline either. Paul glanced at the nurse. “Increase the saline drip and keep monitoring his core temp. I want updates every five minutes.”
Alex took a step back, pulling out his phone. Charlotte barely noticed at first, too focused on the man’s shallow breathing, the slight movement of his fingers. But then she heard the low, clipped tone of Alex’s voice.
“I need a fingerprint scanner at Waverly County ER. ASAP.” A pause. “Yeah, this guy doesn’t have an ID, and we need to know who he is now.”
Charlotte’s stomach twisted. She thought about the photo taken over thirty years ago. It was her and Henry Byron taken at their promotion ceremony. Both in uniform. Someone had left him on her doorstep. But who? And why?
Alex grabbed a specimen bag. Gently, he slid the photo inside the bag.
Thirteen
Alex pacednear the ER bay doors, his eyes locked on the ambulance entrance as a sleek, marked forensic van pulled up. The cold night air seeped into him when the doors swung open, and two Waverly County forensic detectives stepped inside, their presence shifting the energy in the emergency room as they introduced themselves.
Detective Mark Ridley was a tall man with sharp, intelligent eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor. His partner, Tanya Briggs, carried a small black case with the county forensic unit’s insignia stamped on the lid.
“Detectives, I’m Alex Marcel,” he greeted. “You bring what I asked for?” He flashed his badge and identification.
Ridley lifted the fingerprint scanner. “State-of-the-art. Should give us an ID in minutes if he’s in the system.” He looked Alex up and down. “Not often an Assistant U.S. Attorney calls for an assist.
“Then it’s your lucky night,” Alex quipped.
Briggs held the kit in her hand. “As you asked, we’re also prepared to perform a full forensic sweep. We’ll get any trace evidence off this guy before it’s further contaminated.”
“Thanks.” Alex’s jaw tightened as he glanced at the unconscious man through the glass panel of the trauma room. Paul and his team were still working on stabilizing him, their movements precise, methodical. Charlotte stood nearby, her arms crossed, watching every second like her life depended on it.
“Get started,” Alex said. “I want to know who he is and who did this to him.”
Ridley nodded, opening the door. “They put two of our detectives on recall. They should be here soon.”
Alex blew out a harsh breath and nodded.
“Ridley, it’s been a long time,” Charlotte said.
“Chief, I didn’t realize this was for you.”
She turned to Paul. “Can they work?”
“Yeah. He’s brittle,” Paul advised. “If I stay stop…”
Ridley nodded, pulled on a pair of gloves, then adjusted the scanner. He pressed the man’s thumb onto the device. A thin progress bar loaded on the screen.
