“One day, Dr. Jeffries was here, complaining about his wife’s ‘shopping addiction,’ as he liked to put it, and the next day he was gone. Early retirement, they told us.” She huffed softly.
“What about the new coroner then?”
“Aint no new coroner yet, and it’s causing all kinds of backlog. So how about you tell me what you’re after and I’ll tell you if I can help you, okay, sir?”
“I want to see my father’s file,” Ryan sighed. “He was declared dead on—”
The nurse raised her hand to cut him off.
“It’s against hospital policy to release the files for deceased patients without the proper authorization.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m his son. I have a right to see those files!”
“Not without the proper authorization, you don’t.” The nurse eyeballed him over the top of her glasses.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have a ton of work to do. Come back once you’ve seen the hospital administrator.”
Ryan pulled out his wallet. “I don’t want to cause you any more trouble, but I can tell you’re under a lot of strain.” He removed $50 and pinched it between his fingers.
“Why don’t you take a break? It’s on me.”
The nurse arched her eyebrow at the note and then looked up at him. “Sir, I’m under way more than $50 worth of strain, and sandwiches cost 20 bucks at the hospital cafeteria.
You’ll have to try a lot harder than that.”
The nurse’s attitude took Ryan aback, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he counted out $1000 and set it on the counter. “I think I will take that break now.” The nurse smiled as she took the cash.
Once the elevator doors shut behind the nurse, Ryan followed the signs on the walls until he found the coroner’s office. The door was unlocked. He checked that the corridor was empty, then slipped inside.
Ryan padded slowly across the scuffed linoleum floor to the filing cabinets lining one wall of the small office. He started going through the cabinet marked ‘K-L’ and quickly found the spot where his father’s file ought to be. There was nothing there.
Ryan double-checked the names. Then he checked under his father’s first name in case his file had been misplaced, but there was nothing there. His father’s file was missing.
Ryan fisted his hands in his hair and let out a frustrated groan. He’d gained nothing from his search but more questions! He’d hoped to find some clue in his father’s file, but instead, all he had was a lighter wallet.
He recalled what the nurse had said about the coroner’s sudden disappearance. His gut told him it was no coincidence that the coroner, his father’s file, and his father’s body had all disappeared around the same time. It was all too hinky for words.
Ryan’s phone chimed then. He quickly pulled it from his pocket and was about to end the call when he saw the caller ID. “Mr.
Stevens! I’m so glad you called,” Ryan said. “I could really use a lawyer’s opinion.”
“And I’ll be happy to provide it, but unless this is an emergency, you have more pressing concerns to attend to, Ryan.
The responsibility of running your father’s company now falls to you, and I’m sorry to say it’s not going to be smooth sailing.”
Mr. Stevens cleared his throat. “In fact, the sooner we can devise a strategy for damage control, the better,” he continued.
“Can you meet me at your father’s office in fifteen minutes?”
Ryan rubbed at his temple. It felt like his life had become a sequence of disasters and impossible questions. “Sure, I’ll head there right away,” he said.
If nothing else, this gave him an ideal opportunity to search Dad’s office for clues about his disappearance. During the drive to Dad’s office, Ryan mentally sorted through his fears and suspicions. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Dad was alive and somebody had tried to cover it up.
The only reason he could think of for anybody to do that was if they intended to demand a ransom for his return. But even though that seemed the most likely conclusion, it didn’t sit well with Ryan. He was sure he was missing something and hoped he might come across information in Dad’s office that set him on the right track.
An overwhelming sense of nostalgia washed over Ryan as he entered Dad’s office. He ran his fingers across the mahogany desk and felt a great weight settle in his heart. This mystery about Dad and Mr.
Stevens’s implication that the company was in trouble…it all seemed too much to bear. All Ryan had ever wanted was a quiet life helping dogs through proper training for puppies and rehabilitation for as many strays and mistreated animals as he could afford to take in. At that moment, all he wanted was to turn his back on this impossible situation and return home.
‘A man should do what is right, not follow his own selfish interests.’ Dad’s words echoed through Ryan’s memory like he was standing beside him. “You’re right, Dad,” Ryan whispered. “And I won’t rest until I figure out what happened to you.”
He rounded the desk and sat in Dad’s chair as the computer booted.
He opened Dad’s email—it seemed like the most likely place to start looking for answers—and steepled his hands in front of his face when he was confronted with an empty inbox. Somebody had deleted every last message. “Ryan!
It’s good to see you again, although I wish the circumstances were more fortuitous.”
Ryan glanced up at Mr. Stevens as he shut the office door. “Who’s been using this computer?”
Mr.
Stevens frowned. “Nobody. This office has been locked up since we got the sad news of your father’s passing.”
Ryan put his head in his hands.
All he wanted was answers; instead, he kept encountering more mysteries. He glanced at the family photos on Dad’s desk and noticed something was missing. “Where are the dancers?
Those figurines my dad was so in love with.” Ryan pointed at the space where the two colorful post-modern figurines should’ve been. “He took those home a few weeks before his death,” Mr. Stevens replied.
“Poor Arnold…he never was able to procure the third figurine in the set. Can you believe the man who owns the third dancer wouldn’t accept anything less than half a million for it?”
But Ryan was barely listening. He’d been all through his parents’ house since he arrived for the funeral and hadn’t seen those figurines anywhere.
Dad definitely hadn’t taken them home. “Anyhow, we have important matters to discuss, Ryan.” Mr. Stevens took a seat opposite Ryan.
“I’m sorry to tell you that the company has incurred some serious debt over the past few months. In addition, our investors need an earnest show of faith if we’re to win back their confidence.”
“Why would we need to win it back?” Ryan asked. Mr.
Stevens softly cleared his throat. “Your father missed several important meetings with investors in the months leading up to his death. Several smaller players pulled out entirely and some of the larger contributors have been threatening to do so.”
“That doesn’t sound like Dad.
What…why would he miss such important meetings?”
“It all started when his new secretary began working here.” Mr. Stevens avoided Ryan’s gaze. “Please don’t repeat what I’m about to tell you to Emily.
I’d hate to smear your father’s memory over something that is, admittedly, just a suspicion.”
“Please, just tell me, Mr. Stevens. I swear I won’t tell my mother.”
Mr.
Stevens gave a curt nod. “As you know, I worked closely with your father to manage this company. As such, I had many opportunities to observe him in this office, and I believe…with all due respect to him and your family, I believe he was having a romantic relationship with his secretary, Miss Pearson.”
Ryan’s gaze turned to the wide section of glass wall to the right of the office door and locked onto the attractive brunette woman seated at the secretary’s desk outside.
He rose from his chair and marched toward the door. “You can’t confront her.” Mr. Stevens stepped in front of Ryan.
“This company can’t weather yet another blemish on your father’s reputation.”
Ryan ground his teeth and stared at Miss Pearson through the glass. She looked up and frowned at him. “Ryan…” Mr.
Stevens placed a hand on his arm. “I understand how shocking this revelation must be, but please remember it’s only a suspicion. I have no proof they were having an affair.”
“Fine.” Ryan whirled away and returned to Dad’s desk.
For the rest of the
