Chapter 49
Lucinda hung up the phone, closed the file, and rose to her feet.
She gave her assistant a few quick instructions, then headed downstairs to hail a cab straight to the nursing facility.
Forty minutes later, she pushed open the office door.
Nash was already waiting inside. A thick stack of files sat on the desk, and beside them stood a young man in a dark suit.
Clayton—her cybersecurity consultant. He'd handled that ransomware attack last time.
The moment Clayton saw her walk in, he nodded and slid the files across the desk. "Boss, we've got something. The drugs from the airport—there's a complete smuggling chain behind them. The downstream node on the domestic side—"
He flipped to a particular page and pointed at an enlarged screenshot.
It showed a chat log crammed with foreign text and numerical codes. Several lines had been highlighted.
Lucinda leaned in, her gaze landing on a name—Allegra.
Next to it was another name: Sterling Lawson. Allegra's foreign live-in boyfriend.
A faint smile curved at the corner of her mouth.
"Foreign boyfriend?"
She lifted her eyes to Clayton.
"Confirmed. The two registered as domestic partners overseas. This Sterling guy is one of the contacts in the smuggling chain. Allegra used his channel to get that batch of poppy husks, brought them back into the country, and planted them in your bag." Clayton paused. "The evidence chain is basically complete. We can hand it over to the police anytime."
Lucinda stayed quiet for two seconds, then closed the file. "Keep digging. Go all the way. See who else is behind her."
"Understood." Clayton gathered the files and left the office quickly.
Lucinda stood by the window, gazing down at the garden below. Sunlight poured over the grounds, and a few caregivers were pushing elderly residents along the pathways.
She pulled her gaze back, turned, and left the office, heading toward her grandmother's room.
Just as she rounded the corner in the hallway, she nearly ran into a group of people.
Francis led the way, with Valencia and Wesley following close behind.
All three were in casual clothes. Francis held a document in his hand, as if they'd just finished some kind of paperwork.
"Cindy?" Valencia spotted her first. Her eyes lit up as she hurried over. "What are you doing here?"
Lucinda stopped in her tracks, looking at them. Something stirred inside her.
She'd never told the family she came to this facility. But if they were here, that meant they'd looked into her.
They knew her grandmother was here. They knew her grandmother was her only living relative. They knew she visited every week.
She collected her thoughts, her tone even. "Visiting Grandma."
Valencia nodded. "We know. We found out about your grandmother. We know everything."
She took Lucinda's hand, her voice softening. "You spent all those years out there, and it was your grandmother who raised you. I'm so grateful to her."
Wesley stood nearby without speaking. Francis stepped forward and explained. "We came to take care of something. This facility is the best in the country. I wanted to get Mom and Dad registered for regular checkups. At their age, health comes first."
He held up the document. "Just finished the paperwork. We were about to head back."
Lucinda glanced at the document in his hand, then at Valencia and Wesley.
Wesley looked well enough, but he was getting on in years. Regular checkups were necessary.
So was Valencia. She'd spent half her life running the Douglas household. No matter how strong she once was, time took its toll.
Lucinda nodded. "Good idea. At your age, regular checkups are important."
Francis smiled. "Perfect timing, then. Cindy, why don't you stay with Mom and Dad for a bit? I'll go handle the paperwork. The process here is pretty complicated—lots of forms to fill out."
He started toward the service desk.
"Francis." Lucinda called after him.
Francis turned around.
Lucinda looked at him, silent for a moment, then said, "You stay with them. I'll handle the paperwork."
Francis blinked. "You know people here?"
"I do." Her tone was flat. She didn't offer further explanation.
Francis studied her for a moment, then glanced at his parents. Though clearly puzzled, he nodded.
Valencia took Lucinda's hand and chattered away—"How's your grandmother doing?" "Should we bring in a specialist?"—and Lucinda answered each question as she led them toward the VIP lounge area.
It was a large, sun-filled room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the garden. Light streamed through the glass, warm and bright.
"You all sit tight. I'll be right back." Lucinda turned and left the room.
She walked to the end of the hallway, pulled out her phone, and dialed a number.
The line picked up after one ring. It was the facility director's private line.
"Ms. Wipere, how can I help you?" The voice on the other end was respectful.
"Set up two VIP health checkup cards for the Douglas couple. Lifetime. Full premium package." She paused. "Charge everything to my account. Full waiver."
There was a beat of silence. "Ms. Wipere, this—"
"Do it."
"Understood. I'll arrange it immediately."
Lucinda hung up, slipped the phone into her pocket, and turned toward her grandmother's room.
She reached the corner and stopped abruptly.
Up ahead, the door to Cleo's room was open. Three people were stepping out.
Gemma led the way, her face sallow, clutching Cleo's medical records.
Preston followed behind her, his brow furrowed so deeply it could crush a fly.
Allegra trailed last, eyes on her phone, irritation plain on her face.
Lucinda slipped into the stairwell beside her and peered through the glass window in the door, watching the three figures disappear down the other end of the hallway.
Her gaze turned cold.
She turned and followed.
Gemma's group didn't go far. They headed straight into the main lobby near the front desk.
Lucinda stood at the corner of the hallway. From here, she had a clear view of the front desk, but they couldn't see her.
"I need to check out." Gemma slapped Cleo's medical record onto the counter, her tone brooking no argument.
The receptionist was a young woman. She glanced at the name on the file, then back at Gemma, her tone polite. "May I ask what your relationship is to the patient?"
"I'm her daughter! Her real daughter!" Gemma's voice shot up several notches. "My mother's been here, unconscious, and you people kept her here without asking us—her family—for permission? We're checking her out. Now."
The receptionist checked the system, then looked up, still polite. "Ma'am, the admission paperwork for this room was completed three and a half years ago. The payer and signatory are not you. If you want to check out, the signatory needs to be present. Also, any refund will go back to the original payment method. It cannot be transferred to another account."
Gemma's face flushed red. "What signatory? That's my mother! My own mother! Why can't I check her out?"
Preston stood beside her, his expression equally unpleasant, but he said nothing. He tugged at Gemma's sleeve, signaling her to keep her voice down.
Gemma shook him off. Her voice grew louder. "I'm telling you, you're doing this today! My mother's been unconscious, and you've kept her here for over three years without telling us—her family! This is unlawful detention! We're calling the police!"
People in the lobby turned to stare. A few nurses stopped in their tracks, looking over.
"What's going on here?"
A steady voice came from down the hall.
Everyone turned to see a man in his fifties striding toward them.
He wore a tailored charcoal suit, his hair impeccably combed. His name badge read 'Director.'
His gaze swept the front desk, then landed on Gemma's face. Authority radiated from him.
Allegra looked up. The moment she saw his face, her pupils contracted slightly.
She knew this man. Vance Saunders. A legend in the medical world. He'd once headed a state-level medical institution, then resigned for reasons unknown and vanished for years.
Back when she and Sterling were trying to break into the illegal drug trade, they'd sent people after him. They wanted him to help open medical channels. The price they'd offered was astronomical. He never even showed his face.
And now here he was. Running this place.
Vance reached the front desk. His gaze moved from Gemma's face to the medical record, then back to Gemma.
His tone was neutral. "Ma'am, you're saying the patient was admitted here without family consent?"
Gemma felt a flicker of unease under his stare, but she held her ground. "Yes! I'm her daughter, and we had no idea she was here! You've been keeping her locked up without our permission. That's unlawful detention!"