by Casi McLean
“Ha. That was easy. I flashed my badge and told him I was the police.”
“How about the Medivac and charter plane?”
“I called Luke to set up the charter and he’ll deal with the rental company, too.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. “And the helicopter?”
“Who knew my brother had such a widely-known reputation?” She opened the passenger-side door and gathered their belongings. “At the mere mention of your name, they were falling all over themselves to help.”
He slid from beneath BW then stood and pulled together his possessions, set them onto the trunk and slung his jacket over his shoulder. “Seriously?”
“Well, I might have mentioned the word emergency… and that you and your assistant were injured while researching the outbreak of a rare disease spreading along the Appalachian Trail.”
“You what?” He drew his fisted hands to his waist. “Tell me you didn’t really say that?”
Sydney cringed. “I can’t. But before you go through the litany of reasons why I shouldn’t have said that to the hospital staff, this is a major emergency. BW was shot and some people––which might or might not include the police––are trying to kill her… and us for that matter. If that’s not an emergency, I don’t know what is.” She huffed.
“Never mind.” He shook his head and peered over her shoulder. Noting the gas station attendant still behind the counter, he shot a glance down the road in both directions, making sure the assailants weren’t lurking in the distance.
“Don’t worry, Noah. I lost them way back. For now, we’re safe.” She gazed at BW. “Think about it, Noah. You’ve lived through all this. Would you believe our story if you hadn’t seen everything with your own eyes? I didn’t lie…I just…embellished a bit to light a fire and get us all home.” Pressing her lips together, she frowned.
Noah smoothed the bristles on his chin. “I hear you. I’ll deal with whatever comes up.” He gazed at the girl. “I’m honestly stumped by BW’s symptoms. I don’t know how she’s survived in her condition and adding a gunshot wound into the fray…” Hearing the approaching helicopter, he gazed upward. “We’d best get her out of the car. Can you grab my bag?” He pointed to the rear of the vehicle. “I left it on the trunk.”
She nodded. “Sure.”
Noah ducked his head inside the vehicle and slid his arms under BW then lifted and held her close.
As a flurry of searchlights burst through the night sky, illuminating the entire parking lot, the chopper’s chuff-chuff-chuff rose to a crescendo. Sydney rushed to Noah’s side.
He stared at the descending aircraft. “Dear God, what have we gotten ourselves into?”
Chapter 11
Multiple searching spotlights swiveled from beneath the helicopter, scanning the parking lot in a wide circumference. “Dr. Monaco. Please step forward with your patient.” A male voice echoed in surround-sound amidst the chuff-chuff-chuff of the chopper blades.
Holding her in his arms, Noah complied. After several deliberate steps forward, he blinked a ‘what-the-hell’ gaze toward Syd.
Eyes wide, his sister shrugged.
Her head lolling against his shoulder, BW moaned. “What... where?”
“Shh.” He drew her closer. “You’re okay. I’m your doctor, and I’m taking you to a hospital.”
Her muscles stiffened for a beat then relaxed as she slipped into unconsciousness.
Reversing his steps to allow space for the helicopter to land, Noah’s gaze shifted toward Syd. “Tell me exactly what you told these guys.”
The lights intersected into one blazing beam centered on Noah and his patient, then dimmed and extinguished as the aircraft set down. Several forms, dressed in hazmat suits, disembarked and darted forward.
Leaning into her brother, Syd swallowed hard. “Nothing to warrant this.” She stared at three figures readying a gurney, while two others approached. “I swear, Noah. I didn’t even insinuate a contagion.” She leaned closer. “These guys are prepared for a freakin’ pandemic.”
“Well, you must have said something to put them on high alert. From now on, I’ll handle the medical issues.”
“Dr. Monaco?” The muted voice spoke through a wide face shield in a firm, calculated, and definitely female tone. “I am Elise Nolan, Hartford Urgent Care’s Chief of Hazmat and Contagious Disease Operations. Do you have a diagnosis for your patient?”
He cleared his throat to say…what? Having never been in a situation remotely close to this one, Noah was at a loss. He drew in a long breath then whooshed it out. When all else fails tell the truth. “I’m afraid someone misunderstood our situation. My patient is not contagious, nor has she come in contact with hazardous material. She is, however, suffering from a trauma and, of more immediate importance, has lost a lot of blood from a gunshot wound. Her illness has weakened her. She needs blood immediately. Stabilize her so I can take her back to Atlanta as soon as possible.”
Elise fiddled with her helmet then slid it off allowing her long brown hair to cascade over her shoulders. “Seriously? No contagious disease or hazardous material?” She gave her crew a stand down signal then returned her attention to Noah. “I’m sorry for the confusion Dr. Monaco. How can I help?”
“Like I said. This young lady needs blood.”
“Right away, doctor.” She motioned for her team, who immediately pushed the gurney front and center. “Type her and administer blood stat. I’ll be right behind you.”
Noah slid the girl onto the portable bed then turned toward Elise, while the crew rolled BW to the helo and lifted her inside.
Syd followed them, her hand holding BWs.
Elise smiled. “Do you have the patient’s name and address?”
He rubbed the tension from his shoulders and cocked his head to the side. “I wish I did.” Dropping his arms, he turned to face her. “The patient doesn’t know who she is or where she came from. My sister and I found her wandering in the woods about a mile northeast of route 361 near Sharon Road and Indian Lake… close to the New York state line. I don’t have proof, but I feel like she might have gotten lost along the Appalachian Trail and wandered east.” He started walking toward the helicopter.
Elise kept up with his stride. “I’ve heard a lot of people miss the trail signs up there. She’s lucky you found her.”
“Especially in light of her condition. Every time she shifts her vision, she forgets where she is as well as the people around her.” He watched as Syd hopped into the chopper and helped the crew prepare BW and the gurney for flight.
“What’s your diagnosis?”
“I have a few theories from what I’ve gathered so far, but she’ll need a thorough workup.”
“We’ll take good care of her, Dr. Monaco. The hospital has a cutting-edge trauma unit.”
He frowned. “I don’t think you understand our situation, Ms. Nolan. I need to get my patient back to my staff in Atlanta as soon as possible to make any definitive diagnosis and treat her appropriately.” He shifted his gaze to Sydney, now hovering over BW. “We have a private jet waiting to take us to Atlanta at Hartford Brainard. We can set down at the helipad there.”
“Your reputation precedes you, Dr. Monaco. We’re here to assist you.” She slid her helmet under an arm then scurried toward the chopper. “I’ll inform the pilot of the change.”
He felt the tension dissolve from his shoulders. Thank God Elise knew of his work. “We’ll need her sedated for the trip.”
“My team is giving her blood as we speak. I’ll set up a Propofol IV drip for the flight. Let me know if we can be of any further assistance.”
With a terse nod, Noah stepped on the landing skid, grabbed the chassis, and hoisted himself into the chopper. Edging toward his patient, he steadied himself as the helicopter lifted. His thoughts spun through the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours. Syd was right when she said no one would believe the turn of events. Having lived through the saga, he wasn’t sure he could swallow the truth h
imself.
She nudged him. “Looks like you smoothed over the misunderstanding.”
“What can I say? Elise apparently has an interest in rare disease. She recognized me.”
“Elise, ehhh? You’re on a first name basis––already?”
“It looks like a little of that family charm rubbed off on me, as well.” He whispered as Elise approached.
Eyeing his forehead, she squinted. “Looks like you didn’t make it through your ordeal completely unscathed either. Do you mind if I take a closer look?”
Before he could answer, Syd spoke up.
“Please do. My brother doesn’t seem to think a doctor needs an unbiased professional opinion. From what we could determine, he was out cold at least twelve hours in the woods.” Syd offered Noah an I-told-you-so stare.
After inspecting his pupils and the gash on his head, Elise shrugged. “You obviously acknowledged the concussion and know the danger involved. I’m sure you’ve had a helluva headache and I’ve got some pain meds if you need them. Stitches would have been ideal, but I can’t tell you anything more than you already know. Just try to get some rest on the flight and follow up with your doctor.”
“Will do, Dr. Nolan. And my headache hasn’t dissipated much, but I’d rather not use meds, especially when I’m treating a patient. Thanks for the offer, though.”
She nodded. Reaching under her jacket sleeve, she slid out a small, folded piece of paper then slipped the sheet into Noah’s pocket. “Just in case you ever need the use of a medivac when you visit Connecticut.” She patted his shoulder and squeezed past him then paced toward the pilot.
“Did I just see what I thought I saw…she totally hit on you.” Syd let a soft smile curl the corners of her mouth.
“What can I say? I’m a magnet for women.”
Her smile turned into a chuckle. “Hey, thanks for indulging me. I feel better now that a doctor looked at your wound.”
“I aim to please.” Lowering his gaze to BW, Noah wrinkled his brow. “Despite the blood infusion, she still looks pale. Something about this case keeps niggling at me. Something right below the surface.”
“I have no doubt you’ll find a diagnosis.” Syd placed a hand on his shoulder. “But I know how you feel. I’m still curious why BW has such an adverse reaction to the police.” Her gaze drifted then stopped short. “Look at her hand, Noah. Her ring finger has a tan line I hadn’t noticed.” She turned to face her brother. “She’s married... or at least she wore a ring until recently. Somebody has to be missing her.”
“We’ll know more when we run her through missing persons. I don’t think she’s a fugitive or anything like that, but I’m hesitant running a databank search after her odd reaction. I’m leaning toward asking a few friends I trust to help.”
Sydney pressed her lips together. “Uh, yeah, about that. Right before dinner, she was staring at the fire, and I snapped a picture with my phone and forwarded the shot to Luke.”
“Seriously?” He squeezed her hand. Brimming with good intentions, his sister took risky chances far too often. And this time, her impulse might have placed BW’s life in jeopardy. The more he thought about this young woman’s situation, the more he was convinced she was traumatized. She had all the symptoms of shock and suppression. “Whoever was looking for BW had an abundance of firepower, and from all indications, they wanted her dead. Do you realize the consequences of putting her picture on the Internet... especially if her stalker is a cop?”
Below, a square of lights marked the helipad.
Syd leaned forward and peered out the window.
The chopper circled until the pilot reached his desired position, then he hovered before slowly descending.
A buzz sounded from within Syd’s pocket.
Returning her gaze to her brother, she drew in a deep breath. “Maybe we’re about to find out.”
Noah checked BW’s monitor then turned toward Syd and pinched his brows together. “Find out what?”
She dug into her pocket and withdrew her phone. “Who BW really is… assuming she’s on the missing list.” She gazed at her phone notifications. “Luke just left me a voice mail.”
Noah’s stomach lurched. If Syd exposed BW, God only knew what might await them once they landed.
Chapter 12
When the flight took off for Atlanta, Noah let out a sigh of relief. He checked BW’s vitals and adjusted her IV then collapsed into a seat next to the gurney. Surprised at the ease of getting BW secured on the plane compared to what they’d been through over the last few hours, he leaned back and watched as the Hartford Brainard Airport lights disappeared into the night sky.
Gazing toward Syd, his thoughts wandered through the last few years. She jumped into this new career without skipping a beat. A natural private investigator, she had a sixth sense about the cases she accepted. Intuition drove her, and she rarely made mistakes. Noah wished his parents could see her now. They’d be so proud.
Taking no downtime, she now sat at the table, her stare glued to a computer screen as her fingers slid over a track pad.
“Any luck?” he asked.
“Not yet.” Her gaze met Noah’s and she leaned back. “Damn. I really thought Luke would come up with at least a lead. But nothing. It’s as if this woman doesn’t exist. I mean, not a whisper of information surfaces. No picture matches. No driver’s license. No facial recognition on social media… no record of her picture anywhere.”
“How can that be?” Noah stood, strolled across to the table then sat on the bench seat beside her.
“It can’t… unless… someone erased her.” Sydney turned to face Noah.
He leaned in closer and scanned her computer screen. “You mean like an Arnold Schwartzenegger ‘Eraser’ or a Sandra Bullock ‘The Net’? I know you love those old movies, but no one can really do that, can they? There has to be a trace. You just haven’t found it yet.”
“One would think, but I’m tellin’ you, Noah. Someone worked hard to make sure BW has no identity.”
No identity? The thought spun through his mind. At this point, Micah Miller’s talents could be crucial to identifying BW. Squeezing a hand into his pocket, he reached for his phone.
Syd looked up. “Who are you calling?”
“Micah Miller. The friend from college I mentioned earlier. Given the circumstances, I think she might be our best chance to identify BW.”
“I thought about contacting Jules, too. She’s great at cracking mysteries.” Lips pressed together, Syd snatched her phone from the table. “You remember Julie Crenshaw, don’t you, my investigative reporter friend who lives in Vancouver? She works for the Island Broadcast News.” Syd pulled up her contact list. “We bounce theories off each other from time-to-time. I almost called her when you dropped off the grid.”
“Sure. I remember her. Give Jules a call. Four minds searching for answers is better than two.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs and gazed at his phone. Scrolling through his contact list, he searched the names. “This is an old number. If it doesn’t work, I’ll Google Micah. She’s made quite a name for herself.”
“Really? Using genetic genealogy to ID victims?”
“Exactly. I read an article about her a few weeks ago and intended to give her a call to congratulate her, but Aunt Becky’s will kicked everything to the curb.”
“That’s an understatement. Tell me more about Micah’s process.”
“From what I gathered, she uses cutting-edge technology. She takes the victim’s DNA sample and cross-references the results with genealogical research like vital records, obits, census, and news archives.”
“You mean databases that help individuals find their roots, ancestry, and biological or genetic predispositions for diseases?”
“Yes, but more than that. The article said, to determine if relatives exist, she uses a cutting-edge method to identify unknown victims by matching them to feasible relatives. Paired with Snapshot DNA Phenotyping, she can pinpoint probabl
e lineage then confirm identity by using STR analysis. In theory, I think she could use reverse genealogy to track down BW’s relatives.”
“You lost me near the end of that explanation, but the process sounds fascinating. Basically, you think Micah could ID BW like she would a murder victim, right?”
“Exactly.” He lowered his gaze to his smartphone and pressed Send. The line connected and rang one… two… three times before a woman answered.
“This is Micah.”
“Micah. It’s Noah Monaco. Great to hear your voice.
“Noah. Not many people have this number. Nice to hear from you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t ditch the old line.” He paused a beat. “Hey, I’m sorry it’s been such a long time since we talked. My practice keeps me incredibly busy. But from what I read you’ve had your hands full as well. By the way, congratulations on the World News article. Impressive work, Micah. Using DNA phenotyping, genetic genealogy, and forensic art to ID crime victims. Really impressive. I’m not surprised though.”
“Thanks, Noah. We’ve made some amazing advances.”
“That’s actually why I’m calling. I have an interesting case and I could really use your expertise.”
“How can I help?”
“I could really use your help to identify my patient. Do you consult with the police?”
“No. I work with a private consulting firm. But the procedure is Forensic DNA Phenotyping, a cutting-edge technology I’m implementing in conjunction with law enforcement.
“The innovation amazes me, and I truly believe the technology could assist us in identifying our patient. She has no short-term memory and has no idea who she is. Could you reverse the process and ID possible family members through DNA?”
“Sure. I could easily identify familial relatives, assuming some exist.”
“Perfect.”
Micah cleared her throat. “I’d start with a general ancestry profile. Run it through some of the public databases to find familial matches. If she’s white European, that will give us some second and third cousins. With luck, we could triangulate back to grandparents. From there, it’s easy. All I need is a DNA swab from your patient––and a picture.”
