Chapter 4 - THE HAZMAT DISCOVERY"Call my sister!" Daniel screamed, lunging toward the door of the ICU room. "CALL CAROL NOW!"
I reached out, clutching his sleeve with all the strength I had left. "Daniel, wait! Don't call her cell—Ray might be there! Call the police directly!"
Daniel fumbled with his own phone, his hands sweating so profusely he dropped it onto the floor twice. He punched 911, screaming into the receiver before he even reached the main hallway. "My son! My son is at 412 Elm Street! Someone poisoned him! Send an ambulance now!"
The ICU hallway erupted into immediate motion. Two nurses ran into my room, alerted by the heart monitor alarms triggered by my spiking pulse.
"Sir, you need to calm down!" the lead nurse yelled, grabbing Daniel's arm.
"My eight-year-old son is being poisoned!" Daniel roared, shoving her hand off. He sprinted down the hall toward the elevators, his boots echoing loudly off the linoleum.
I lay in the bed, oxygen rushing into my nostrils, my chest throbbing in rhythm with the desperate pounding of my heart. I pulled the blanket off my legs, attempting to swing my feet over the edge of the mattress.
"Emma, no! You have a chest tube inserted!" the nurse screamed, rushing to push me back down.
"He's going to hurt my brother!" I sobbed, struggling against her grip. "Ray is going to kill him!"
"The police are already on their way to your aunt's house!" she said, holding my shoulders firmly against the pillows. "You cannot move! If that tube dislodges, your lung will collapse again!"
Ten agonizing minutes passed. Every second felt like an eternity stretched across a razor blade. The life support monitors beeped relentlessly, recording my rapid, shallow breathing.
Finally, the landline phone on the nurse's station outside my open door rang.
The nurse ran out to answer it. I strained my ears, listening to her brief, monosyllable responses.
"Yes... yes... okay... understood."
She walked back into my room, her expression grim.
"Did they find him?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Is Caleb okay?"
"The police reached your aunt's house," she said quietly. "Caleb is fine. He hadn't touched the drink. But your mother... your mother wasn't at the house."
"Where is she?"
"The police found her car parked two blocks from your house. The Hazmat team just entered your home with a warrant."
She turned on the wall-mounted television in the corner of my ICU room, flicking to the local Cedar Rapids late-night news stream.
The live footage hit me like a physical blow.
Our quiet, tree-lined suburban street was filled with flashing red and blue lights. The front lawn of our house was cordoned off with bright yellow crime scene tape. Men in heavy, bright-yellow Hazmat suits were walking up our front steps, lugging heavy black cases and air-sampling equipment.
The reporter stood in front of the camera, wind blowing her hair across her face.
"...we are live at the residence on Maple Street, where police and chemical hazard units have launched a full-scale investigation following the emergency hospitalization of an eighteen-year-old high school senior. Sources close to the investigation reveal that initial sweeps of the basement uncovered a sophisticated clandestine chemical lab operating beneath the home..."
I stared at the screen, my mouth hanging open.
May you like
"...officials report finding large quantities of organophosphate compounds, along with forged chemical transport documents under the name of Raymond Vance—the victim's uncle—who is currently wanted for questioning. Furthermore, authorities have issued an urgent BOLO for the victim's mother, Sarah Vance, who fled the scene shortly before officers arrived..."
My mother wasn't just hiding Ray's secret. She was running the operation with him.
