Lost Lives (Emily Swanson Mystery Thriller Series Book 1) by Malcolm Richards

was so strange. We checked the bathrooms, the patient wings, staff facilities, everywhere. Then, about twenty minutes later, she suddenly appeared on the stairs. Something was wrong. She’d been crying. But it was more than that. She looked scared to death. Before anyone could say anything, she ran through the front door. Doctor Williams came down and followed her outside. When he came back a few minutes later, he told us he’d sent Alina home early, that she was having some personal troubles and wasn’t well enough to work.”
    Rosa looked up with glassy eyes. “It was the last time any of us saw her. She didn’t show for her shift the next day. Neither did Karl. And then the police came, asking questions about her behaviour at work and about her relationship with her husband. I didn’t lie—we’d all seen the bruises. Meanwhile, that bastard was walking around with the sun shining out of his ass.”
    “But what about the police?” Emily interrupted. “Did they talk to Doctor Williams about that night?”
    “They did, but I couldn’t tell you what was said. A couple days later it was all cleared up. Nurse Bates and Doctor Williams called a staff meeting, told us Alina had sent a letter. They read it to us.”
    “What did it say?”
    “That she was sorry to have left so suddenly without saying goodbye, but for personal reasons she’d had to go, right then and there. Back to Germany. Of course everyone breathed a sigh of relief. People were sad to see her go, but at the same time they were happy she was safe. Happy she was away from him. Nurse Bates told us Karl would be returning to work the following week and that under no circumstances were we to mention Alina. Everything was to continue as normal.”
    “What happened when Karl came back?” Emily had been listening to the girl’s story with growing concern, and now her mind pulsed with thoughts.
    “It was like Alina never existed. That man went back to work like, I don’t know, like he couldn’t care less that his wife was gone. That didn’t make sense to me. Even if he didn’t love her you’d think he’d be pissed off she’d left him.”
    “You think he had something to do with it?”
    “All I can tell you is that he wasn’t behaving like a grieving husband. And that letter? Anyone could have typed it up. Everyone just accepted it, like Alina had stood there herself and read it to us.”
    “But you didn’t believe it.”
    “No, I didn’t. It was a feeling, I don’t know. Something telling me this wasn’t the truth.” Rosa paused, checked the door again. “I went through the employee files and pulled up Alina’s details. Her parents were listed as next of kin. So, I called them. They didn’t speak a word of English and I don’t speak German. But it didn’t matter because when I mentioned Alina’s name, they became upset. I don’t know what they were trying to tell me, but they kept saying her name, over and over. You don’t need to speak the same language to know when something’s wrong.”
    Emily sucked in a deep breath. Alina hadn’t made it home after all. “Do you still have her parents’ number?”
    “Someone removed her file. It’s gone. You know, at first I told myself she just hadn’t made it home yet, that she’d written her resignation letter and then disappeared for a little while to get her head straight. But then I remembered her talking about her parents. She’d said they were both old and getting sick, and that being an only child she always felt guilty about living so far away from them. Doesn’t that tell you that if she left, she would have gone straight home? I made that call a week after Karl came back to work. That gave Alina over two weeks to get home. But she didn’t make it.”
    The gravity of what Rosa was saying left Emily feeling uneasy.
    “Who have you told about this?”
    Rosa pushed her coke away again and drummed her fingers against the table top.
    “That journalist. And you.”
    “What