Page 95 of Paternal Instincts
A missing child.
A DNA test.
How did it fit?
Nothing made sense.
Still piecing things together, I told Jordyn and Costa about Aslan’s phone call.
“Jesus.” Jordyn stepped back and paced a circle as she processed.
To Costa, I said, “I want an officer on this door.” I motioned to the room I’d been forced out of. Not that Imogen was likely to go anywhere in her state, but until I had my hunch verified, I didn’t want her unguarded. Because I couldn’t dismiss the earlier incident at the grandparents’ house, I added, “And another one on Benedict.”
“Benedict? Why?” Jordyn asked. “Did you learn something?”
I traced my tongue along my upper lip, considering all angles before explaining about Benedict’s uncooperative behavior, his wife’s distress, and the suspicious hand injury. After, I described to my partner and best friend what I saw while chatting with Imogen.
Jordyn cursed again, looking about as baffled as I felt.
I left the two upstairs on the labor and delivery floor to handle the family while I headed to the emergency department to meet with Aslan.
***
“I don’t know much. I was returning inside after getting these”—Aslan displayed the paper bag containing DNA sample kits—“when she was wheeled in on a gurney. I recognized her and fought with a nurse until I managed to get a positive ID.”
“Where was she found? Who called it in? Was she conscious?”
Aslan encouraged me off to the side of the bustling ER so we weren’t standing in the way. “I hassled an ambulance attendant after she was passed off to the team of doctors, showed him my credentials, and told him she was part of a case I was working on. I didn’t think he believed me at first. He said they picked her up in the parking lot of an apartment in the Flemingdon Park area. Someone found her bleeding out and called 911. He said they ID’d her from the wallet they found in her fallen purse. It didn’t appear to be a robbery since she still had cash and car keys. She’s been unconscious this whole time, so no one has been able to ask her what happened.”
“Has her family been contacted?”
“They’re on their way.”
I paced, thinking it through before telling Aslan about my chat with Imogen and the suspicious dirtiness of her hands.
He stilled and lowered his voice. “Do you think she did this?”
“I don’t know. Benedict was bleeding at the house, too, but…”
“Actively bleeding. It washisblood on the towel and gauze, not a transfer from someone else.”
“He could have been hurt in the process. Maybe Clementine fought back.”
“Quaid, why would Benedict attack his son’s nanny, who was fired last week? Did they even know each other?”
“I don’t know, Az. I don’t know anything, but you know who does know? Imogen, and I can’t get near her, never mind that we have a missing child. I want to ask her one goddamn question.”
“I know.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, calming my fury. “Look. I don’t know how long Clementine will be in surgery, but why don’t we get these tests to the lab. If we throw around our authority,we’ll have answers in a couple of days. By then, maybe we can approach her with the truth. Flynn and Ronald are upstairs still, yes?”
I nodded. Aslan was right. Getting a definitive answer to one of our most ailing questions would help. The fact that most of our potential fathers were at the hospital bothered me. Where was Crowley? Was he alive or dead in a ditch? Who was taking care of him?
I checked my phone, unsure if I wished it to stay silent or wanted it to ring and free me from this godforsaken case. Either way, at least we were on location. It so happened that Sunnybrook was the same hospital where Bryn was meant to give birth.
Aslan handed me the file folder with our warrants and the paternity test results that had been delivered to the house, still stored in the FedEx envelope. I took it, realizing his attention was elsewhere.
I followed his gaze to a couple who’d come in and were inquiring at triage about their daughter.
“I’m pretty sure that’s Clementine’s parents,” Aslan said, stealing my thoughts. “I’ll talk to them and meet you upstairs.”
