Page 28 of Whispers in the Dark
And Alex suddenly knew whatever was coming next wasn’t just about Ward. It was about her.
The team regroupedat the conference room, where the evidence from the storage unit lay spread across two tables. The FBI was now taking the lead. The new case took place in at least three different jurisdictions. Charlotte stood near the window, her back to the institutional blinds, arms crossed, gaze locked on the map Brad had pinned to the rolling bulletin board.
Ethan quietly read the chief of the Waverly County police department into the investigation, speaking quietly in the corner of the room. Noah leaned over his laptop, pulling up digitalrecords of Victor Graves’ last known address and a copy of any employment fingerprints.
Brad and Olivia were each on the phone with state records, trying to trace Graves’ legal history. Alex watched Charlotte as he spoke with the prison warden, trying to get an unofficial photograph of the inmate known as Victor Graves.
She had barely said a word since they left the unit. She was thinking, running through every detail in her head, turning over old memories.
Sophie joined the group, her face unreadable. She flipped through her tablet, brow furrowed. "I ran searches through every medical record database I could access. I checked a hunch. Tristan has been trying to have this place shut down since he took over the County ER. The Waverly Pain clinic, at least that is the name it went by most recently. They processed a large cash payment for a penetrating wound to the right shoulder of a patient using the name Victor Graves. According to how they coded it, it could be a gunshot wound or stab wound, among other things. His demographics state he is forty years of age then. It happened twenty-six years ago. That matches Gideon Ward’s profile.”
Olivia straightened. "They didn’t report it?"
Sophie shook her head. "No. And ‘penetrating wound’ is a sanitized description of the injury. The clinic was fined six times in the last year alone for failure to report DOH-required ailments. They’re known for treating patients under the table. Law enforcement shuts it down. They close for a while and then open under a new name and a new corporation." She shook her head. “Their medical practices are unscrupulous, but their billing is rather pristine.”
Ethan leaned back, nodding. “Those clinics don’t ask questions, but that doesn’t mean the injury disappears. Someone was hurt, and they dealt with it—quietly.”
Alex shook his head. “I’ll get a subpoena for all pertinent records and send an investigator.”
Noah frowned. "I’m going to make a wild leap. The birthdate matches Gideon Ward’s.”
Sophie nodded. “Same date.”
Brad looked at Charlotte. "If someone else is using his name, they’ve been keeping that alias alive for a reason.”
Charlotte exhaled, processing the information. “And if he’s alive, we need to find him.”
Brad exhaled. “The clinic takes cash payments, no questions asked? Shit.”
Sophie sighed. “The patient’s address on the billing is for an extended-stay hotel in Pierre.”
“And let me guess,” Alex grumbled. “No one by that name was ever registered there.”
“Yeah, how did you know?” Sophie asked.
Alex simply shrugged. “I’m psychic.”
Noah muttered a curse, ignoring his partner’s bad joke. “Based on this, my guess is Gideon Ward was the Victor Graves with the penetrating wound, and someone younger used the name Victor Graves in the last seven years. Why?”
Sophie held up a finger. “They did take a Polaroid of the patient’s wound. But it’s not on their server.”
“I’ll put that on the requested subpoena too.” Alex typed on his laptop.
Ethan tapped his fingers against the table. “We need to find out if there are two Victor Graves or none at all.”
Charlotte inhaled slowly. Alex moved closer, brushing his hand over hers. She finally looked at him. No hesitation. No more fear. Just determination.
Alex exhaled. “Whatever started in 1993, it isn’t over.”
Charlotte lookedat her watch and back to Olivia. She switched emotional gears so fast, it nearly gave Alex whiplash.
“All of you keep doing what you do.” She straightened, her voice firm. “Olivia, Sophie, and I have gown fittings at Rosalind’s Bridal Boutique. And after that, we have a mom-daughter early dinner date.”
Brad’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
Sophie, who had been typing notes into her tablet, blinked. “Really?”
Charlotte continued, waving a hand in the air, “I’m not going to let all of this,” she gestured toward the table covered in files, crime scene photos, and evidence bags, “disrupt our lives.”
