Missing Grace

by S. L. Scott

  “You will always have me. Please don’t go.”

  “I’ll call you when I leave the apartment. Please don’t worry. It will be fine.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the lips.

  As they opened their eyes and moved apart, he pleaded, “Grace, everything is ready for you, for whatever you choose to do. The apartment in Seattle, your bank account, family and friends who love you. We’re all here for you. Please call me if you need me. You’re not in this alone.” Her heart ached at his pleading. But she knew Hunter. Yes, he’d been aggressive in the bathroom the other morning, but his anger made sense given he was watching his lies fall apart around him.

  “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for everything you’ve done and all that you’ve sacrificed for me. I may not ever be able to share a lifetime of memories, but what you’ve given me back so far is more than I ever dreamed possible. Thank you, Ben.”

  She started to turn, but he grabbed her by the elbow and spun her back around. They looked at each other, the intensity obvious to anyone who saw them. “Grace, I . . . I love you.” Ben pulled her closer and kissed her. It was a kiss that made promises full of potential for their future together.

  “I love you, too, Ben,” she said then rushed into the waiting cab while anguish covered his features. As the door shut, he put his palm on the outside of the window and she placed hers against his from the inside, just the glass dividing them.

  His lips moved, “Please be safe.” Emotions flickered through the brightness of his eyes, landing on a sadness that turned his lips down.

  She mouthed, “I’ll call you,” and the cab pulled into traffic. A vision of his hand on a window flashed back and she saw Ben on the other side of the glass. Her heart soared from the memory, but she smiled that she had acted on instinct, keeping their tradition alive. It would be over soon and they could be together.

  * * *

  Grace didn’t know what to expect as she unlocked the apartment door. She hoped Hunter would be at work, but she doubted he would. Standing on the balcony drinking his favorite Scotch—straight and over ice—was the man who had claimed she was the love of his life. The sun had not set but was fading as he lifted the glass to finish the last of the liquor. The ice clinked against the crystal when he turned to set it on the table. His eyes found her, and he stood straight, his shoulders broad, his jaw tense. Hunter didn’t seem surprised and didn’t make any sudden movements, but an indifferent smile crossed his lips. It was cold and calculating, not arrogant or proud or confident, like the Hunter Grace thought she knew. He was analyzing her like he’d study a case, watching her while she set her suitcase down and placed her purse on top of it.

  The atmosphere changed, the particles seen in the setting sunlight swirled when he entered the room. His expression changed, and it looked as though he wanted to greet her as if nothing but a silly argument stood between them. “Hi,” he said. “I’m glad to see you.” Grace tilted her head down and nodded. When she looked up, she could tell Hunter knew what was coming. He wasn’t stupid. “Jane, I need you to hear my side of this—”

  “Don’t call me Jane. My name is Grace, but you knew that already, didn’t you?”

  “What has gotten into you?”

  She had to keep him on track, so she stood up to him. “Don’t turn this around on me like I’m crazy. I’m not. You knew who I was all along. I know you took my past away from me. I found my engagement ring, Hunter.”

  His gaze dipped to her hand. “Where is your engagement ring?”

  Surely, he found it where I left it. “I’m not talking about the one you gave me.” Her words prevented any comeback he might have, but his glare said everything. Silence was the only thing left between them other than space. She raised her chin, and said, “I need to know why. Why would you do that?”

  “Why would I do what, Jane?” Her name dripped from his lips like blood from a sword. Sharp. Cunning. “Where is your ring?”

  “In the bedroom. On the nightstand. I thought you’d find it, considering how much you like to inspect the place like a drill sergeant.”

  He looked toward the bedroom and then turned back. “I gave you everything—”

  “And nothing I wanted. You took away everything that mattered to me, my family, my friends, my actual fiancé, my entire life. My future. You watched me cry every day for two years, and you knew it wasn’t just from my injuries. You named me Jane Parker and kept me in the dark about who I really was. I’ll tell you who I was, who I am. I’m Grace Stevens, and you’re a selfish bastard.”

  “Stop this! You think I was selfish? You wanted this life. You wanted to be a doctor’s wife. You were receptive to this relationship from the beginning, Jane.”

  “It’s called Florence Nightingale Syndrome, Hunter. You know as well as I do that you took advantage of me. You gave me a place to live and money to survive, and you cared for me when I didn’t have anything. You created my dependency. I struggled because you gave me so much, but only after taking away even more—”

  “Because we loved each other.”

  At that point, looking at his arrogant face, she wondered how. How could she have loved a man like Hunter? He had kept her. Controlled her. That wasn’t love. But why? Why had he been so determined to marry me?

  Tears of anger burned her eyes. “You hid my real identity from me.”

  “You will listen to me, Jane,” he said, refusing to call her Grace. “I had to put up with a lot of bullshit over the years, but I did it because I love you. Seeing and hearing you cry all the time was no party for me. Hearing you cry for Ben every fucking night while you were sleeping was no picnic either.”

  They both gasped.

  He’d heard me cry for Ben?

  It was true.

  Grace took two large strides toward Hunter, squared her shoulders in front of his large frame, then demanded again, “I what? I cried for Ben in my sleep?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She hauled off and slapped him as hard as she could across the face. “I hate you! I hate you, Hunter Barnes.”

  28

  Ben Edwards

  Ben dropped his suitcase just inside the door of his apartment. He squatted down, unzipped the bag, and pulled the box Grace had given him from where he had neatly tucked it.

  He promised he wouldn’t open it until he got home, but the curiosity was killing him. He sat down on the couch in the shadowed room. With the sun already hidden behind a building, he almost needed a lamp to see.

  As he unwound the rubber band three times from the package freeing the paper from the box, his phone rang.

  Grace?

  He’d wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her with him straight from the airport, but she was stubborn, just like she always was, so determined to handle stuff on her own. But making her feel guilty or Grace-napping her wasn’t the answer to their future either. Ben wanted her to come to him because she wanted to—because she loved him and wanted their forever—not out of obligation. That would be the only way he knew he had her heart.

  If Barnes hurt one hair on her head . . .

  Ben set the box on the couch, letting the paper fall open as he answered the call.

  Emily. Someone he wanted to talk to, but not the someone.

  “Hey, Emily . . . Yes, we made it back . . . Um, I don’t know . . . hopefully soon. I enjoyed being home more than I thought I would. I missed it . . . Yeah, I, uh, I’ll have to get back to you on that.” While his sister chatted away, he looked to the cushion next to him, at the box and papers. The black words in bold text caught his attention. He couldn’t concentrate on the call, so he tried to wrap it up. “I don’t know what her plans are at this point. I’ll keep you posted . . . Yeah. Yeah. I promise . . . love you too, sis. Okay . . . bye.”

  Reaching over, he unfolded the papers just enough to reveal Grace’s face. His heart rate picked up, his mind sending him right back to the first few days after her disappearance. The flyer he’d spread throughout Chicago
was in front of him. How the hell did Grace get these?

  Ben’s heart dropped into his stomach as he looked at the missing-person flyers. They looked as if they’d been ripped from the display board they’d been tacked to.

  Fuck.

  When he lifted the lid of the small box, anger began to burn within his chest. His hands shook with fury. Grace’s engagement ring. The ring he’d had custom-made for her. Even though it had been years since he’d laid eyes on it, he remembered every detail. Picking it up and holding it between his fingers, a rush of emotion filled him, her “Yes” echoing in his ears as if it was yesterday that he asked her to marry him.

  As he read the engraving on the inside of the band through blurry vision—G. Forever yours, B—he ached. It was what he’d carved into the tree on the property line dividing their parents’ properties—a tree they’d made love under one time, and then the same tree he’d knelt beneath when he asked her to marry him.

  Then it clicked. Grace knew. She knew when she was in Seattle. She knew when she ran into his arms at the airport before they even left. She knew and was confronting him now. Fuck. She wasn’t safe.

  The ring must have been found in their apartment. I’d been right. Barnes had taken Grace’s ring and the flyers he’d made to find her. This was the final proof, the only proof they needed. All the pieces. “I finally have all the pieces.”

  Barnes knew her identity, but had kept Grace for himself. The bastard. He’d taken advantage of her. If he would do that to her, who knows what he’d do to her now after being confronted.

  Ben grabbed the ring and the flyers and ran out the door, not bothering to stop to lock it. He had to get to her. And then another realization hit him.

  He had no idea where she lived.

  His feet stopped; his blood ran cold. He couldn’t find her. For years, that feeling deep inside him that she was alive had kept him looking for her, kept hope alive, but now . . . he had no idea where to go.

  He was numb with the compounding anger and despair.

  Something was wrong.

  He could feel it.

  Ben caught a cab to Chicago Memorial. It was the only place he could think of to start. Four times he called her, and four times his calls went to voicemail. Fuck! He also tried information, but of course, neither the doctor nor Jane Parker were listed, which didn’t surprise him. He almost threw his phone out the window in frustration, but that was the only lifeline to Grace.

  The painful fifteen-minute taxi ride frustrated him as they caught every red light, every jaywalker, and every possible mishap. Crazed thoughts crossed his mind. What would Barnes do when she confronted him directly? Ben’s stomach lurched, thinking of him hurting her—physically or emotionally or both. The doctor had clearly gone to a lot of effort to keep her, surely he would fight for her.

  As soon as the taxi stopped, Ben jumped out and threw forty dollars on the seat. He knew it was more than the fare, but he didn’t care about the change. He skidded into the ER and right up to the nurses station.

  “May I help you?” a nurse asked, her eyes trained on her computer screen.

  “Jennifer Foster. I need to find Jennifer Foster please.” The name flew from his mouth.

  The nurse looked up, alarmed by his tone, and when she made eye contact with Ben, she smiled. Tilting her head, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and then twisted a section around her fingers. “I’m Lauren. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “No.” He shouldn’t have yelled, but he didn’t have time to spare. “I mean no, thanks. I need to speak with Jennifer directly. Can you help me find her? Please?”

  The nurse looked disappointed then annoyed. She went back to playing blackjack on her screen but stopped to point. “Down the hall to your right. She works in Recovery.”

  Ben was running before the nurse even finished speaking. He ran through three sets of swinging doors before he found a small, open window to an office where a nurse was filing folders. “Excuse me. I’m looking for Jennifer Foster. Is she working?”

  “She’s always working,” the nurse joked with a smile on her face. “She should be back any minute. She’s finishing up her rounds. You can wait over there in that sitting area if you like.”

  Ben nodded, headed to the area she had directed, but he was too wired to sit. A few minutes later he saw another nurse walk to the window and return a chart. He recognized her and started walking to where she stood. This was the woman who’d spent more time than he was ever owed just to listen.

  When she saw him, she grinned. “Hi, Ben. How are you?”

  “Jennifer, I found her.”

  “What?”

  “I found my fiancée,” he said. Her mouth dropped open and words seemed to fail her.

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe you found her. After all this time. That’s amazing news.”

  “It is, but I need your help.”

  “Of course. How can I help?”

  “When my fiancée first went missing, I brought flyers in to hand out. You—”

  “Hung them up. Yes, I remember.”

  “Will you sit with me for a minute?”

  She looked at her watch and nodded. They stepped off to the side for more privacy. “I noted everyone I talked to at each hospital, which is how I remembered your kindness in putting up the flyers in the staff lounges. Do you recall how many flyers you hung up?”

  Her gaze lifted to the ceiling as she thought. It had been a while, so he wasn’t sure she’d actually remember. “Well, I put them on the bulletin boards in the lounges. There are three nurses lounges, an office staff lounge, and the doctors lounge up on seventh. So, five?”

  After hearing the number confirmed, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence.

  “You put up all five? I had a note that someone else hung one up.”

  “That’s probably right. We’re discouraged from going into the doctors lounge.”

  Ben tried to remain calm, but he was barely holding on. “My notes said that you had asked Dr. Barnes to hang that one up.”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s right. He was a resident doctor then and very friendly. He came by asking about the flyers on the counter, and I asked him if he would mind placing one in the doctors lounge.” Jennifer looked at Ben quizzically. “Is this leading somewhere? Does this information help?”

  “So much. Thank you.”

  “What is it, though? How does it help?”

  “Dr. Barnes tore all five of those flyers down.”

  “What? Why would he do that?”

  “Because he didn’t want her to be found.” He wasn’t surprised to see the shock on her face. “He hid her real identity from the hospital and from her. She had been admitted to this hospital with amnesia.”

  “That’s a crazy story, Ben. Are you sure? You can’t make those sorts of accusations without proof or you’ll destroy lives.”

  “It’s not a story, nor mere accusations. It’s the truth. She’s in danger. I need a favor. The final proof.”

  “He’s a respected doctor,” she said. It made sense that she couldn’t comprehend he could be capable of what Ben proposed, but he had to get her to see he wasn’t lying.

  Would she be willing to break rules to help him?

  “Jennifer, will you look in your system and see if a Jane Doe was admitted on May thirteenth of that year?”

  Everything depended on this answer.

  This hospital.

  This search.

  This nurse.

  This moment.

  29

  Ben Edwards

  “Sure,” Jennifer replied, and Ben felt so thankful she was on duty tonight. “I can’t tell you any confidential information, since medical records are protected.”

  Nothing would deter him. If he was right, she wouldn’t be able to keep the truth a secret. She pointed to the window as she walked around and entered the small office. Leaning on the sill of the opening, he waited while she sat down and started typing. After a few moments, she app
eared relieved. When she looked up, she said, “There was no Jane Doe in the month of May three years ago. Everyone was registered with ID.”

  Ben leaned in a little farther, willing to beg. “Please check under the name Jane Parker for that same day and the days following.”

  She tilted her head and sighed. Jennifer was a good person, and if this really did happen, she couldn’t carry the responsibility of knowing she didn’t help to solve this crime. She looked down and started typing again as Ben released the breath he had been holding in anticipation. He had to be right.

  Seconds ticked slowly.

  Her face went pale and without needing words, Ben knew what was in front of her.

  The chair rolled back as she stood abruptly. Leaning her hands on the counter, she whispered, “You were right. Jane Parker was admitted on May thirteenth into the trauma ward. Dr. Hunter Barnes was her attending physician and was the first and the last to make notes on her chart.” After glancing over her shoulder, she leaned in closer. “She never came through ER. But, Ben, Jane Parker is Dr. Barnes’s fiancée.”

  “Her real name is Grace Stevens, my Grace. She was engaged to me at the time of the accident, and I now believe she’s in danger. I was told that Barnes brought her into the hospital himself and that he was at the scene of the accident.”

  “Yes, I always thought it was such a romantic story . . . until now. I think he’s done something illegal here,” Jennifer said, concern contorting her features.

  “I need to know where they live.”

  Jennifer was shaking her head before she even started talking, “I can’t give you his address. I would lose my job. I need my job, Ben. I’ll call my supervisor immediately, though, and the police.”

  Logically, he understood Jennifer’s reaction, but his whole body knew that course of action was wrong. He needed to get to Grace, especially now that he was absolutely certain he knew what Barnes had done. “Jennifer, could you please print that information before it gets deleted?”