Chapter 12

Suzi awoke to the sound of two men laughing. Her right arm was bandaged at the elbow and covered with a soft, white blanket. Lifting it, she saw clean dressings around her chest. Some dried blood remained on her chest and stomach, but most of it had been cleaned.

She was in the plastic room, and her heart swelled with relief as she saw Ygritte, her beloved dog, on a nearby gurney. Ygritte had a large bandage wrapped around her leg where an IV was inserted, and a large portion of her belly was shaved. Suzi could see stitches, but Ygritte was breathing steadily on her own. Tears welled up in Suzi’s eyes as she smiled.

She surveyed the makeshift clean room. It had been cleared of surgical instruments and monitors. Apart from the two patients on gurneys, one would never guess that the room had just been used for surgery.

“Hello?” Suzi called out.

Ricky and another man stepped through the plastic.

“Tom – this is Suzi, my stepsister. Suzi – this is Tom. Tom is an old friend,” Ricky introduced.

The man, unmistakably either military or police, gently shook Suzi’s hand. He looked familiar, but Suzi was certain she had never met him before.

“Nice to meet you, Suzi. I wish it could have been under better circumstances. Your dog is going to be just fine, by the way. No broken bones, but the bullet did nick her intestines, so I’ll want to keep her for a few days to make sure everything is flowing properly, and I didn’t reattach them backward.” He smiled, but Suzi looked shocked.

“He’s joking, Suz,” Ricky reassured her. “You, on the other hand, have a nasty cut in a bad place.”

“So, I’ve been told.”

“You should probably have stayed in the hospital.”

“I thought I had someone who could help me.” She looked at Ricky. “Did you find anything on the cameras?”

“Yes and no,” he replied.

Tom crossed his arms and his expression changed.

Ricky continued, “About 11 p.m., I can see a car pull around back, and someone gets out of the passenger side door, but the backdoor camera freaks out with some interference. You can see the same car pull around the front a few seconds later, and someone gets out of the back, but again, as soon as they get out, the front camera glitches, too. I have the make and model of the car and the tags; that’s about it.”

“Poodle can run the tags.”

“I’ve already sent him the videos to see what he can do, but it’s clear this wasn’t just some random robbery. Nothing in the gallery was touched.”

“All your artwork is still there, right?” Tom asked. “So, it’s not worth much,” he laughed.

“Who or what is ‘Poodle’?” Suzi asked, somewhat afraid of the answer.

“He’s our man on the inside,” Tom explained. “My little brother is on the Chicago PD.”

“When the interference goes away, two minutes and fourteen seconds later, you see the car leave, presumably after they did whatever they did, and you can see a second head in the back seat, where there was only one before.”

“Aiden?” Suzi asked.

“Can’t really tell.”

Suzi looked at the ring on her hand, covered in blood. It was not lit up.

“Rio tracked his phone and gave me a location. We have these rings that sync with our phones. Can you or your Poodle guy use it to track him?”

“Let’s call him and find out,” Tom said, pulling out his phone, hitting a speed-dial number, and enabling the speakerphone.

There was a ring, and a second later, she heard a voice say, “Tom,” very flatly.

“Good to talk to you too, Poodle.”

“What do you want?” the exasperated voice asked.

“I’m working a missing persons case with Ricky –”

“Hey, Phin. This could be related to the videos I sent you earlier,” Ricky added.

“Hey, Rick. I have not had a chance to analyze them yet.”

“Anyways –,” Tom continued, “We have a Bluetooth device synced with an app with GPS tracking. Can you use that to pinpoint a location?”

“Maybe. It really depends on the app, the logging they can provide, and if the phone is active. The GPS is really on the phone, not the Bluetooth device itself. If not, we can ping the phone number and see where it last checked in to get a general location. Can you get me the name of the app and login info, if you can, and the phone number?”

“Hi, Mr., uh, Poodle,” Suzi spoke up.

Tom snickered quietly.

“My name is Suzi. My husband is the one that is missing. We have these rings that connect to our phones and record vitals.”

“Hello, ma’am. When was the last time you spoke with him?”

Suzi hesitated, unsure of even what day it was. “Monday night about 7 p.m. I was in the hospital, and he left to go to my apartment. He was supposed to come back, but never did.”

“Those videos are from a little after 11 p.m. last night,” Ricky added.

It must still be Tuesday, Suzi surmised.

“Any chance he took off with anyone else?”

“His truck is still in front of the apartment, and he was not answering his phone when I called him a couple of times this morning. My daughter was able to track his phone to 105th and Western Avenue. The ring indicated that he was in distress earlier and now his phone goes straight to voicemail.”

“What is his name and description?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Aiden Michael McCord. 48. 6 feet tall. 230 pounds. Blue-grey eyes. Light brown hair with short beard, some grey peppered through. Some tattoos on both arms and both calves.”

“105th, you said?” Poodle asked.

“Yes.”

There was a shuffle of papers.

“George, do you have the file for that John Doe found in Beverly Park an hour ago?” the man on the phone said away from the speaker. A second later, Suzi heard him say, “I’m going to send you a photo, Tom.”

Suzi’s breath caught as Tom adjusted his phone and revealed the photo. Aiden—once strong, now a battered shadow—stared back at her. His face was a canvas of brutality, bearing the marks of a merciless assault. Swollen, bloodied, and unrecognizable, he seemed like a stranger. The gash on his lip was a raw wound, revealing the white of his teeth beneath. His left eye and ear were swollen shut. The right eye, though open, bore a jagged cut on the brow and was blackened. The bridge of his nose was shattered.

“Oh, God! That’s him!” Suzi exclaimed. She began to cry again, surprised she was even able to after all the emotion she had experienced in the last day.

“That was easy. He’s at Chicago South. Still in surgery last I knew. Someone reported a DB in the park, but the patrol officer responded that there were signs of life. Paramedics took him. He was naked and exposed. No ID. No phone. He’s in bad shape. I’ll get a forensics team over there to process any trace on his body.”

“Thanks, Phin. Please let us know what you find on those videos and tags, too,” Ricky said.

“Bye, Poodle. Love ya, bro.” Tom added and disconnected the line.

Suzi tried to sit up.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Tom said, putting his phone in his pocket and touching Suzi’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve got to get to Aiden,” she said.

“You heard the man. He’s in surgery. There is nothing we can do right now. You need to recover, too,” Ricky told her.

Suzi laid her head back down and allowed herself to cry. She heard one set of footsteps leave the plastic room and a chair roll closer to her bed. Ricky was sitting next to her, thinking.

“Thanks for your help, Ricky. Ygritte is going to be okay because of you.”

“I’m just glad I was in the studio. I wish I would have been there last night. I might have been able to help Aiden and keep her from getting shot.”

“Or you could be in a surgery room next to him, or worse.”

“Nah,” he smiled.

She closed her eyes.

“Just rest, and we’ll go see him in the morning.”

“I need to call Reed and Rio and tell them,” she said, without opening her eyes.

“Tell them what? We don’t know anything yet. You’ll just worry them.”

“They can make the choice to come up or not. If Aiden died, and –”

“He’s not going to die. You have to think positively.”

“I’m trying to be realistic. Your friend said he was in bad shape.”

“Alright,” he resigned. He handed Suzi her phone from a table that also held her wallet and car keys.

She looked at her phone, realizing she had not looked at it in likely 36 hours. She had twelve missed calls, seven text messages, and lots of DMs. She ignored them all and called Reed.

“Hello,” a woman’s voice answered.

“Kara?” Suzi asked.

“Hi, mom! How are you?”

“Hi, hon. I’m okay. Is Reed around?”

“He’s in the shower, but I can have him call you when he gets out. Do you want me to give him a message?”

“Just have him call me, please. It’s important.”

Kara’s concern tightened. “Is everything okay?”

Suzi’s breath hitched, and her voice cracked. “I don’t know. Aiden’s been hurt.”

Kara’s response was swift, urgent. “My God. Okay. One sec.”

Suzi strained to hear over the phone —sound of a door opening, water rushing from a shower. Suzi clenched the phone, her heart racing.

Reed’s voice cut through the noise of the running water. “Mom?”

Suzi steadied herself, her words tumbling out. “Reed, baby. Something has happened. Your dad is hurt, and he’s in surgery.”

Reed’s panic echoed Suzi’s own. “Oh, my God. Is he okay?”

The water shut off, leaving an eerie silence. Suzi’s tears flowed freely. “I haven’t seen him yet. The police say it’s bad. Really bad.”

“We’ll figure out a way to get there. Have you told Maeve, Rio, or Grandma and Pops?”

Suzi’s throat tightened. “No, you were my first call. You’re the farthest away. They’re next on my list.”

“Thanks for letting us know. If Grandma and Pops are going, we’ll catch a ride with them. We’ll pick up Maeve and Rio on the way.”

Suzi’s voice trembled. “Okay, sweety. Call Rio for me. I’ll reach out to Grandma and Pops, then Maeve. Let me know when you’re on the road. I love you.”

“Can do. Love you too, Mom.”

The next call was going to be the toughest call she had made in 30 months: her in-laws, Owen and Ruth McCord.

When Aiden and Suzi first began dating, Owen and Ruth did not think too highly of her until they discovered that Suzi’s cousin, Dennis, was one of Owen’s closest friends and work companions. She was then instantly accepted into the family.

She had not spoken to them since she left Aiden and was sure that hatred for her had returned, or at the very least, strong indifference.

“Fuuuuuuckk,” she groaned as she convinced herself to place the call.

“Suzi?” Ruth’s voice answered, somewhat drowsy.

Suzi’s heart raced. “Hi, Ruth. Did I wake you?”

Ruth’s warmth came through the line. “We’re good, sweetie. Just laid down. How are you? Aiden told us you were in the hospital.”

“Fuck. He talked to them about me,” she thought.

Suzi’s throat tightened. “I’m okay. Listen, is Dad around?”

“Sure. Let me put you on speaker. It’s Suzi,” she called to Owen.

Owen’s familiar voice crackled through the phone. “Suzi? Aiden’s Suzi? Hey girl!”

Suzi’s eyes blurred with tears. Owen had been more of a father to her than her own distant dad. Her father’s absence had left scars, but Owen’s acceptance had healed some of them.

Suzi’s voice trembled as she delivered the news. “Hi, Dad. Aiden was up here helping me out, but there’s been an accident. He’s hurt pretty bad and is in surgery. That’s all I know right now.”

Aiden’s mom gasped. “Oh, Lord.”

“Are you hurt?” Owen asked, concerned.

Suzi’s breath hitched. “No, I wasn’t with him. The police found him. I haven’t seen him yet, but they thought he was deceased at first. It’s bad, Owen. Really bad.” Her tears flowed freely now.

“Send us the hospital information. We’ll get a flight out there.”

Suzi’s gratitude overflowed. “Reed was going to drive with you. He’ll pick up Rio and maybe Maeve on the way.”

Owen’s practicality surfaced. “We’ll call Reed and Maeve. Is Rio still in Jeff City?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. We’ll arrange a flight for Rio too, if she wants. She’s closer, so driving might be faster.”

“Reed already called her. He might have more information.”

“We’ll let you know our plans. Take care, hon.”

“Sounds good. Bye.”

The next call was going to be the toughest call she had made in 30 seconds: Aiden and Suzi’s estranged daughter and oldest child, Maeve. Suzi took a deep breath and pressed the phone icon next to Maeve’s picture. It rang once and went to voicemail.

“Hi, Maeve. It’s Mom. Please call me when you get this. It's urgent.” She hung up.

“That was cold,” Ricky said.

Suzi’s pain was a tangled web. “It’s complicated.”

She scrolled through her missed calls and messages. Three from the funeral home, three from unknown numbers—all voicemails. Suzi never checked voicemails; texts were her lifeline. And six missed calls from Aiden.

Five calls right after she fell off her bed with the mirror. The last one after he left the hospital. Suzi’s heart clenched.

Her texts revealed a mosaic of emotions. Aiden’s messages asking if she was alright, Rio’s inquiry as to Aiden’s whereabouts, two cryptic summons from Nick ‘needing to talk to her’, Doyle’s inappropriate offer of care, and an unknown number canceling her therapy appointment with Dr. Adamson and advising her to find a new therapist.

That reminded her.

“Hey, Ricky,” she said, her voice trembling. “Does ‘Genius, Inc’ mean anything to you?”

Ricky raised an eyebrow, “Not really. ‘Ink’—like quill or pen? Or ‘Inc’ like ‘Incorporated’?”

“Incorporated,” Suzi confirmed.

He chuckled. “Definitely not. What’s up?”

“Can you have your network of spies run it and see if anything pans out?” Suzi asked half-jokingly.

Ricky leaned back, considering her request. “My ‘network of spies’?” His eyes twinkled. “You don’t think I am just Ricky Moore, mild-mannered artist?”

Suzi recounted the events of the past week, omitting the supernatural elements—Guillermo and her personalities, the demon, and the void. She downplayed her mirror mishap and avoided mentioning the ‘Annie’ incident at the hospital as well. It was a relatively short story.

“Well,” Ricky said, “I could have you entered in my phone as ‘Accident Insurance Liability,’ but that doesn’t mean you’re an insurance company.” His tone turned serious. “We’d need the number to get any specific details.”

Suzi’s heart sank. “I was afraid of that.”

“Do you still have his phone?” Ricky asked.

“No,” Suzi replied, her voice hollow. “It’s at the apartme—”

The realization hit her like a freight train. Whatever Dr. Adamson was involved in was on that phone—the one she had left in her apartment when Aiden was there. The same phone that had led to his abduction and subsequent attack, the same phone that got Ygritte shot. Had she only listened to Rio and turned the phone back to the police, she would not have gotten Aiden and Ygritte into this mess. Her heart broke. Guilt washed over her, threatening to drown her.

“There’s that Catholic guilt,” her Suzanne personality sighed.