Chapter 2 - The Object Beneath the Fiberglass
Security arrived less than a minute later.
By then Camille had recovered enough of her composure to demand names.
The clinic director.
Marcus’s medical license number.
Jenna’s full legal name.
The names of the security officers.
The company that owned the building.
“Everyone involved in this is getting sued,” she announced.
Marcus kept his attention on Oliver.
The boy’s condition was deteriorating.
His heart rate was too fast.
His fever remained high.
The circulation in his foot was compromised, and the skin visible beneath the partially opened cast suggested infection.
Whatever legal explosion Camille intended to create could wait.
Oliver could not.
“We’re transferring him to St. Catherine’s Children’s Center,” Marcus told Jenna.
The nearest pediatric hospital with orthopedic surgery was almost an hour away under normal conditions.
Tonight, the mountain roads were covered in snow.
A helicopter could not safely fly.
Jenna was already on the phone arranging ground transport.
Camille stepped forward.
“He is not leaving with strangers.”
Marcus faced her.
“He needs a pediatric orthopedic surgeon.”
“I’ll take him back to the resort.”
“No.”
Camille stared at him.
It was apparently not a word she heard often.
“You don’t decide that.”
“In an emergency, when delaying treatment creates a serious threat to a child, I absolutely can initiate necessary care.”
“I am refusing treatment.”
Marcus looked toward Oliver.
“Your refusal is part of what concerns me.”
The security officer nearest the door shifted his stance.
Camille noticed.
Her expression hardened.
“You think because I’m wealthy, I don’t love my son?”
“I think his foot is blue and you tried to stop me from opening the cast.”
“That proves nothing.”
“No,” Marcus said. “But the object taped beneath it requires explanation.”
Camille’s eyes flicked toward Oliver.
The boy immediately shrank against the pillow.
Marcus saw it.
So did Jenna.
“Please step outside,” Marcus said.
“I am not leaving my child.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“You are frightening him.”
For a moment, Camille appeared genuinely wounded.
Then the emotion disappeared behind anger.
“Oliver.”
He would not look at her.
“Oliver, tell them you want me here.”
Silence.
“Tell them.”
Oliver began trembling again.
Marcus moved between them.
“That’s enough.”
Camille’s face changed.
“You have no idea what kind of family you’re interfering with.”
“Tonight,” Marcus said, “I’m interfering with a medical emergency.”
The ambulance crew arrived twenty minutes later.
Before transport, Marcus and Jenna stabilized the cast enough to relieve pressure without disturbing the hidden drive.
The object stayed exactly where it had been found.
Photographed.
Documented.
Protected.
Marcus called the county child-protection hotline himself.
He also contacted law enforcement because there appeared to be evidence intentionally concealed on a child’s body.
Camille made three calls while standing under supervision in the hallway.
The first was to an attorney.
The second was to someone she called Grant.
The third went unanswered.
When she returned, her confidence had partially returned.
“My attorney says you are committing kidnapping.”
Marcus didn’t respond.
“My attorney says you cannot separate me from my son based on a ridiculous misunderstanding.”
Marcus glanced toward the examination room.
Through the glass, Oliver was talking quietly to Jenna.
For the first time, he looked calmer.
“Your attorney should meet you at the hospital.”
Camille’s smile was thin.
“You’re going to regret humiliating me.”
Marcus surprised himself by answering honestly.
“I’m much more worried about regretting what happens if I don’t protect him.”
The ambulance departed at 9:14 p.m.
Camille was allowed to follow separately while authorities assessed whether she would be permitted access to Oliver at the hospital.
Marcus expected that to be the end of his involvement.
It wasn’t.
At 10:02, St. Catherine’s pediatric orthopedic surgeon called him.
Dr. Priya Nair spoke rapidly.
“You were right to open it.”
“How bad?”
“Significant swelling, soft-tissue infection, pressure injury. We’ve restored circulation. We’re taking him to the operating room to clean the infected area and evaluate the fracture.”
Marcus closed his eyes briefly.
“Will he keep the foot?”
“I think so.”
The breath Marcus had been holding finally left him.
Then Priya’s voice changed.
“There’s something else.”
“The drive?”
“Yes.”
“What about it?”
“It wasn’t simply inside the cast.”
Marcus waited.
“It was taped directly over an area of damaged skin beneath several layers of replacement padding.”
“Replacement?”
“This cast had been altered.”
Marcus straightened.
“You’re certain?”
“The outer fiberglass is consistent with the original type, but part of the internal padding was cut open and rewrapped. Someone removed enough material to place the drive against his leg.”
Marcus remembered Camille’s refusal to name the physician.
“Can you tell when?”
“Not precisely. But the infection didn’t start tonight.”
“How long?”
“Several days at least.”
Marcus thought of Camille saying he had ruined the vacation over a sore leg.
Priya continued.
“There are also two different signatures on the cast.”
“What?”
“One near the ankle is faded. Probably from the original application. Another is underneath a later layer.”
“Can you read either?”
“The first says Dr. S. Keane.”
Marcus frowned.
The name meant something.
He opened the state medical registry on his computer.
Stephen Keane.
Licensed in Illinois.
No Colorado license listed.
Marcus felt the hairs rise on his arms.
“Priya.”
“I know.”
“He may have been treated out of state.”
“Maybe.”
“But Camille said he was examined here.”
“Exactly.”
Marcus heard movement in the background.
Then Priya said, “Police are asking us to preserve the cast.”
“They should.”
“The drive is being removed as evidence.”
“Has Oliver said anything else?”
A pause.
“Only one thing.”
Marcus waited.
“He asked whether his mother would know where he slept tonight.”
Marcus stared through the dark clinic windows at the snow.
Eight years old.
Severely ill.
Facing surgery.
And what frightened him most was whether his mother could find his room.
Marcus knew then that the flash drive was only part of the story.
Before ending the call, Priya added, “Marcus, the investigator found something printed on the inventory sticker.”
“What?”
“The full label.”
Marcus picked up a pen.
Priya read it.
“A-V-A Forensic Services. Evidence copy. Vale Family Trust.”
Marcus stopped writing.
Vale.
May you like
Oliver’s last name.
And whatever Camille had buried inside her son’s cast appeared to belong to an investigation of her own family.
