The Girl and the Garden of Bones (Emma Griffin® FBI Mystery Book 32) by A.J. Rivers

Author:A.J. Rivers [Rivers, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A.J. Rivers
Published: 2024-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

I call Cynthia Fine while I’m on my way to the hospital. I don’t give her any details about what’s going on, so as not to upset her too much. I would rather explain the situation in person. I ask her to meet me in the emergency room as soon as she can get there. My next call is to Detective Melton to fill him in and ask if there’s been any more progress with the rest of the case.

“A woman was reported missing this morning. Chloe Crane. Her partner thinks she might have been selected as a player. She left a note saying she hoped she would be back but to not look for her. We’re still in the early stages of looking into it, but there hasn’t been much development so far. We were able to look through her texts and did find one from an unknown number with coordinates. I followed them to an abandoned apartment complex, but we haven’t found anything. We’ll start the search again in the daylight.”

“Shit,” I mutter. “All right, keep me updated.”

I end the call just as I’m turning into the emergency room lot. The ambulance is still in the bay, lights on and the back doors open. The gurney is no longer inside. I park in the nearest spot I can find and rush inside.

“Can I help you?” a woman in scrubs behind the registration desk asks. “Do you need to be seen?”

“No, my name is Agent Emma Griffin. I’m with the FBI. A man was just brought in by ambulance. I need an update on his condition as soon as possible.”

“I’ll let the doctors know,” she says.

“Thank you.”

I walk away from the desk, going toward the sitting area but continuing to pace as I wait for Cynthia to arrive. She looks frantic, and she finally runs into the waiting room. Her eyes dart around until they land on me, and then she rushes over.

“What’s going on? Where is Richard?” she asks.

“He’s in the back,” I say. “He’s with the doctors.”

“Is he alive?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say. “He is alive. I checked him myself, and he was breathing and had a heartbeat. But he is in very serious condition. Right now, I don’t know exactly what happened to him, but he is suffering from extensive injuries, and I don’t know when we might know more.”

“Where did you find him? What happened?”

I tell her the story and she wrings her hands intensely as she listens.

“He’s been in that room since Saturday?” she asks, sounding horrified.

“I don’t know exactly. But that’s what it sounds like. I did a really cursory check of the room and didn’t see any belongings. It’s not like there were luggage or anything like that. Does the name Kyle Breckenridge mean anything to you?”

“No,” she says. “I’ve never heard that name. Who is that?”

“That’s the name that was used to reserve the motel room. It’s the policy of that particular motel to not require ID if the person checking in pays for the room in full in cash, which is apparently what happened.

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