Chapter 4: Descent into the Garage
The subterranean parking garage was vast, dim, and damp, smelling of exhaust fumes and stagnant rainwater dripping from concrete pillars. Fluorescent tubes flickered overhead, casting long, erratic shadows across rows of luxury sedans and utilitarian hospital vans. Julian led the way toward his silver sedan, his keys already clutched tightly in his fist.
Evelyn walked slightly behind him, her footing careful on the slick pavement. “Keep your voice down, Julian. We don't know who else might be looking for her.”
Dr. Vance trailed a few paces further back, his hand resting casually inside the pocket of his tailored trousers. He scanned the shadows with the practiced detachment of a man who was used to controlling environments. “Mr. Hayes, if your wife truly escaped in the manner you suspect, she had inside help. Patients in the secure wing do not simply vanish into thin air without an accomplice.”
Julian stopped by his car, unlocking it with a sharp beep of the horn. He turned to face the doctor, the dim light catching the sharp angles of his face. “Are you confessing, Doctor? Or are you just preparing your alibi for when the board realizes the clinical trials were a sham?”
Before Vance could respond, a sudden metallic clatter echoed from the far corner of the garage, near the recycling bins. Julian froze. The sound of shifting cardboard and dripping water cut through the low hum of the ventilation system.
“Clara?” Julian called out, taking a tentative step away from his car.
Evelyn grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “Julian, don't. It could be a trap.”
A figure emerged slowly from the shadows near a concrete pillar. It wasn't Clara. A young orderly in blue scrubs stood there, holding a mop bucket, looking thoroughly startled by the sudden confrontation. He dropped his gaze immediately, mumbling an apology and quickly wheeling his cart toward the maintenance exit.
Julian exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch. The adrenaline receded, leaving a dull, throbbing ache behind his temples. He opened the car door, gesturing for his mother to get in the passenger seat. Vance stood by the rear door, watching them with an inscrutable expression.
“Are you riding with us, Doctor, or do you have more important meetings to attend?” Julian asked, his voice dripping with cold sarcasm.
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“I will accompany you,” Vance replied smoothly, opening the back door and sliding inside. “I want to ensure Mrs. Hayes is treated safely if we locate her. My medical license requires my intervention.”
Julian slammed his door shut, started the engine, and peeled out of the parking spot, accelerating toward the exit ramp and into the rainy Chicago night.
