Chapter 6 - The Hospital Gala
By seven that evening, Costello Children’s Hospital looked like nothing was wrong.
That frightened Chloe more than sirens would have.
Valets moved cars.
Photographers stood behind velvet ropes.
Women in evening gowns entered beneath enormous glass doors.
Men in tuxedos greeted donors beneath banners honoring the hospital’s twentieth anniversary.
Inside, hundreds of people had no idea security teams were quietly searching mechanical rooms, storage closets, loading areas, and restricted floors.
Gabriel refused to announce a threat until they knew exactly what they were dealing with.
Police commanders disagreed.
Federal agents disagreed.
Hospital administrators nearly panicked.
Eventually, a quiet evacuation plan was created.
A “gas leak” would be announced if security found anything suspicious.
Chloe stood inside a private office with Beatrice.
Someone had found Chloe a black dress from the hospital gift shop manager’s daughter.
It was slightly too long.
Beatrice approved.
Better than the uniform.
Chloe smiled.
My uniform has pockets.
Beatrice considered this.
True.
Gabriel entered.
He had changed into a tuxedo.
The bandage beneath his sleeve was invisible.
For a moment Chloe almost forgot who he was.
Then he looked at the guards outside the door and she remembered.
His eyes moved toward Chloe.
He stopped.
“What?”
she asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re staring.”
“I’m not.”
Beatrice signed.
He is.
Chloe looked at Gabriel.
“She says you’re staring.”
Gabriel frowned at his mother.
“You don’t know what she said.”
“I’m becoming excellent at context.”
Beatrice grinned.
Then Gabriel became serious.
“We found nothing.”
Chloe’s smile faded.
“In the whole hospital?”
“We’ve checked every area Vincent could access.”
“Could he have used someone else?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t sound comforting.”
“It wasn’t intended to.”
Beatrice suddenly signed.
The elevator.
Chloe looked at her.
What elevator?
Beatrice touched her forehead, trying to remember.
Then her hands moved.
When Vincent spoke to Carlo, Carlo said something about an elevator.
Gabriel leaned closer.
“What?”
Chloe translated.
Beatrice continued.
Not the hospital elevator.
She shook her head.
Freight.
Gabriel immediately called Dante.
“Check freight elevators.”
Dante answered through the earpiece.
“They’re already being searched.”
Beatrice interrupted.
Old freight elevator.
Chloe translated.
Gabriel frowned.
“There isn’t an old one.”
Beatrice looked irritated.
Your father showed me.
Gabriel stopped.
“My father?”
Beatrice nodded.
When the hospital opened.
There was an old service elevator from the original building.
Gabriel looked toward Chloe.
“The hospital was built around a factory.”
Chloe understood.
“A sealed section?”
Gabriel was already moving.
They found the original floor plans in the basement engineering office.
A corridor had been bricked over during renovations fourteen years earlier.
Behind it was an old industrial elevator shaft.
And connected to the shaft was a service tunnel leading beneath the gala ballroom.
At 8:26, workers broke through the wall.
Dante disappeared inside with police officers.
Ten minutes later, he returned.
His face answered the question before he spoke.
“We found something.”
Gabriel went cold.
“What?”
“Explosives.”
Chloe’s stomach dropped.
“How much?”
Dante looked at Gabriel.
“Enough.”
The evacuation began immediately.
Fire alarms sounded.
Guests were told about a suspected gas leak.
Doctors moved patients away from the affected wing.
Police blocked streets.
The ballroom emptied in nine minutes.
But one problem remained.
The device was not on a timer.
It had a remote receiver.
Meaning someone could trigger it from anywhere nearby.
Gabriel stood in the hospital command center.
“Find Vincent.”
Teams searched hotels.
Apartments.
Warehouses.
His home was empty.
His phone had disappeared from the network.
Cars registered to him were abandoned.
He had vanished.
At 9:10, Chloe noticed Beatrice staring through the command center window.
She seemed distracted.
Chloe approached.
What are you thinking?
Beatrice signed.
Vincent knew my husband.
Chloe nodded.
For years?
Since he was young.
Then Beatrice signed something unexpected.
He loved Gabriel’s father.
Chloe frowned.
Like family?
Beatrice shook her head.
Like a son who wanted to become him.
Chloe translated for Gabriel.
He listened.
Beatrice continued.
Your father trusted him at first.
Gabriel looked surprised.
“I didn’t know that.”
Beatrice gave him a pointed look.
Chloe almost winced.
Gabriel sighed.
“Fair.”
Beatrice continued.
Then your father discovered Vincent stealing.
Gabriel’s face changed.
“What?”
He planned to fire him.
But he died before he could.
Gabriel stared.
His father had died eight years earlier in what police called a highway accident.
A truck crossed lanes during heavy rain.
The driver disappeared after posting bail.
Gabriel had always believed it was terrible luck.
Beatrice’s hands slowed.
Your father did not believe the crash would be an accident.
Gabriel stopped breathing.
“What?”
Chloe translated carefully.
Beatrice’s eyes filled.
He told me two days before he died.
If anything happens to me, look at Vincent.
Gabriel took a step backward.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
The second the words left his mouth, he knew.
Beatrice stared at him.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
He whispered, “You tried.”
She nodded.
Years.
Not three weeks.
Years of partial communication.
Years of gestures.
Notes he answered later.
Signs he barely understood.
Conversations shortened because interpreters were inconvenient.
Gabriel had thought his mother simply preferred quiet.
Now he understood that silence had been imposed on her by everyone around her.
Including him.
“I’m sorry.”
This time he signed it without Chloe helping.
The movement was clumsy.
But recognizable.
Beatrice’s eyes widened.
Gabriel signed again.
Sorry.
Then he pointed toward her.
He tried another sign Chloe had shown him in the SUV.
Mother.
Beatrice covered her mouth.
Gabriel struggled through the next words.
I will learn.
It was not perfect ASL.
The grammar was wrong.
But Beatrice understood.
She stood.
She hugged her son.
Gabriel held her tightly.
Chloe looked away.
Dante’s voice suddenly came through Gabriel’s earpiece.
“We found Moretti.”
Gabriel released his mother.
“Where?”
“Security camera across the street.”
A photograph appeared on the monitor.
Vincent stood on the roof of a parking garage overlooking the hospital.
He held something in his hand.
A phone.
Or a remote.
Gabriel swore.
“Teams moving?”
“Yes.”
Chloe looked toward the screen.
Then another camera appeared.
Vincent moved down the stairwell.
He exited onto the street.
Police approached from one direction.
He turned.
Disappeared into an alley.
Another camera caught him entering a black sedan.
The car accelerated.
Gabriel headed for the door.
Chloe grabbed his arm.
“Where are you going?”
“To finish this.”
“No.”
He stared.
“No?”
“You have police.”
“He killed my father.”
“You don’t know that yet.”
“He tried to kill my mother.”
“Yes.”
“He tried to kill six hundred people.”
“Yes.”
“And you think I’m staying here?”
“I think that’s exactly what he expects you not to do.”
Gabriel stopped.
Chloe continued.
“Vincent knows you.”
“He thinks he does.”
“Then stop acting exactly like the version of you he planned around.”
Beatrice watched them.
Chloe pointed toward the monitors.
“Let the police chase him.”
“What do I do?”
“Think.”
Gabriel stared at her.
Chloe nodded toward Beatrice.
“Ask the one person he spent years assuming you’d never listen to.”
Gabriel looked at his mother.
For once, he did not ask Chloe to translate immediately.
He stepped toward Beatrice.
He used the few signs he knew.
Vincent where?
Beatrice understood.
She closed her eyes.
Thought.
Then she signed.
Your father’s church.
Chloe frowned.
Gabriel’s face went pale.
“St. Michael’s?”
Beatrice nodded.
When Vincent was young, your father took him there.
He called it the place where Costellos begin and end.
Gabriel reached for his coat.
This time Chloe did not stop him.
Because Beatrice had just given them something better than a security camera.
May you like
She had given them Vincent’s memory.
And if she was right, the chase had been pointing in the wrong direction all night.
