Chapter 4 - The Voice on the Line
“He’s not handing over anyone,” a new voice barked from the corridor entrance.
Heavy footsteps echoed against the tile. Detective Sarah Lin of the Special Victims Unit marched through the sliding doors, her leather jacket dripping wet, her badge hanging from a heavy steel chain around her neck. She was followed by two uniformed state troopers with sidearms strapped to their thighs.
Lin was a legend in the county—a woman who had spent fifteen years taking down human trafficking rings and domestic predators with the surgical ruthlessness of a combat surgeon. She didn't look at Mercer. She looked directly at Daniel.
“The girl’s room is secure?” Lin asked.
“PICU 314, guarded by hospital security,” Daniel answered immediately.
Lin turned her dark, sharp eyes onto Mercer. “Doctor Mercer. What a tragic coincidence. I’ve been trying to get an audience with you for six months regarding your late wife’s estate distribution and missing medical records. Seems like tonight you decided to save me the drive.”
Mercer slowly stood back up to his full height, smoothing his coat. “Detective Lin. I see you’ve brought your usual dramatic flair. I have a court order signed by the senior judge of the circuit.”
“And I have an emergency preservation order signed ten minutes ago by the State Attorney General’s Special Crimes Division,” Lin said, pulling a folded document from her inner pocket and slapping it flat against Mercer’s chest. “Your uncle Harold forgot that the Eleventh Circuit doesn't have unilateral jurisdiction over suspected chemical poisoning investigations involving minors. The syringe found on your daughter is currently under armed transport to the State Forensic Toxicology Lab in the state capital—not your private lab, Julian. Not Mercer Biologics.”
Mercer didn't flinch, but his eyes narrowed to slits. “You are making a career-ending mistake, Detective.”
“I’ve made plenty of those,” Lin smiled coldly. “I’m still here. Your security guards have five seconds to clear this wing before the troopers here arrest them for obstruction of justice and carrying concealed weapons inside a trauma facility. Move. Now.”
The two security guards looked at Mercer. Mercer gave a fractional nod. The men stepped back.
Mercer adjusted his glasses, looking at Daniel one last time. “You think you’re a hero, Officer Reed. You think this is a movie where the good man saves the children from the tower. But you have no idea what these girls are. You have no idea what their blood contains. And when you realize what you’ve meddled with, you’ll beg me to take them back.”
Mercer turned on his heel and walked down the corridor, his shoes clicking rhythmically against the floor until the elevator doors slid shut behind him.
Daniel finally let out the breath he had been holding. Emma collapsed against his knees, her small body shaking with delayed hysterics. Daniel knelt down and wrapped both arms around her, picking her up and holding her close against his shoulder.
“He’s gone, Em,” Daniel whispered into her hair. “He’s gone. You’re safe.”
“He has the screens,” Emma sobbed into his neck. “Daniel, he has the screens in the wall. He can see us right now.”
Detective Lin walked over, her face pale despite her aggressive display moments earlier. She looked at Emma, then at Daniel.
“We need to talk. In private,” Lin said.
Daniel carried Emma into an empty consultation room adjacent to the pediatric intensive care unit. A nurse brought in a pair of warm hospital socks, a fleece blanket, and a cup of warm apple juice. Emma sat curled on a vinyl armchair, holding the juice with both hands, watching the door as if it might explode at any second.
“Is Olivia going to live?” Daniel asked, leaning against the counter, his voice low so Emma wouldn't hear.
“Soto got her stabilized, but her kidneys are in shock,” Lin replied quietly. “They’re starting pediatric hemodialysis. Whatever Mercer gave her, it wasn't rat poison or standard pharmaceuticals. It’s an engineered peptide compound. Soto said it looks like an experimental cellular delivery mechanism—something designed to alter gene expression in bone marrow.”
Daniel stared at her. “He’s running human trials on his own seven-year-old daughters?”
“Worse,” Lin said. She pulled out a tablet and brought up a series of archived files. “Three years ago, their mother, Clara Mercer, died. Official cause: sudden cardiac arrest secondary to autoimmune complications. Body was cremated within twelve hours. No autopsy. Mercer signed the death certificate himself under a state medical waiver.”
“How does one man have that much power?”
“Money, Daniel. Tens of millions of dollars in biotech grants flowing into every hospital board, police foundation, and political campaign in this state,” Lin said bitterely. “Clara was a geneticist. She co-founded Vance-Mercer Biologics. Before she died, she filed a sealed complaint with the Department of Justice alleging that Mercer was using synthetic vectors to edit pediatric immune systems to patent customized gene therapies worth billions.”
Emma suddenly looked up from her juice.
“Mommy didn't have a funeral,” she said in a clear, small voice.
Daniel and Lin both turned to look at her.
“What did you say, sweetheart?” Lin asked gently, crouching beside the chair.
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“Daddy said Mommy went to heaven,” Emma whispered, her eyes large and dark. “But that was a lie. Mommy is in the garden house. Under the stones where the cold air comes out.”
***
