Chapter 7: The Medical Practice Secret
The neon sign of the Sterling Medical Center buzzed against the grey afternoon sky as Miller’s unmarked cruiser pulled up to the curb. Detective Vance was waiting by the front glass doors, holding a clipboard packed with requisition forms and digital printouts. Passersby hurried past against the biting wind, completely unaware of the tense drama unfolding behind the building's tinted glass windows. Miller stepped out of the car, adjusting his tactical belt, and strode briskly toward his partner.
""What did you find?"" Miller asked without preamble, pushing open the glass door as Vance followed him inside the quiet, antiseptic-smelling lobby.
""The DNA profile we extracted from a hair fiber on the pink blanket matches a confidential maternity file belonging to Dr. Richard Sterling's daughter, Dr. Elena Vance—no relation to me,"" Detective Vance reported, keeping her voice low as they approached the reception desk. ""She gave birth in a private wing of this facility three nights ago. But according to the hospital's official electronic registry, the infant was listed as stillborn.""
Miller stopped dead in his tracks, narrowing his eyes. ""Stillborn? But we have a healthy, breathing newborn sitting in the hospital observation ward right now.""
""Exactly,"" Vance said, her eyes flashing with investigative determination. ""Someone falsified the medical registry. A healthy baby was marked as deceased to cover up an unwanted birth, and then someone—presumably someone with access to the facility—took the infant and dumped her in an alley behind Fourth Street during the worst of the storm.""
The receptionist, a nervous middle-aged woman wearing a pristine white cardigan, looked up from her computer terminal and cleared her throat. ""Can I help you officers? This is a private medical facility. You need an appointment to enter the restricted research wings.""
""We aren't here for an appointment, ma'am,"" Miller said, stepping up to the counter and flashing his detective badge. ""We're executing a court-ordered preservation of records for Dr. Richard Sterling and Dr. Elena Vance. I suggest you unlock the digital archives on that terminal right now, or you'll be answering obstruction charges before the sun sets.""
The receptionist paled visibly, her fingers trembling as she reached for her desk phone to alert upper management. But Detective Vance was already faster, placing her hand firmly over the cradle of the phone. ""Don't make a call, unless you want to be an accessory to child abandonment and falsification of vital records. Where is Dr. Sterling right now?""
""He's... he's in his third-floor executive office,"" the receptionist stammered, pointing a shaking finger toward the secure elevator bank at the end of the sterile hallway. ""Third door on the left.""
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Miller didn't waste another second. He strode down the hallway, his boots echoing sharply against the polished tile floor, with Vance right behind him. The investigation had moved past a simple case of street rescue; it was now a dark, calculated conspiracy involving medical professionals who thought they could dispose of an inconvenient human life and bury the evidence beneath hospital paperwork.
***
