Chapter 2 - THE MAN OUTSIDE THE GLASS
Julian Mercer pulled the door a second time.
Harder.
Then he slapped his palm against the glass.
“Officer!”
Garrison did not move toward him immediately.
He stayed behind the desk, positioned between the entrance and the girls.
Elena had both arms around Maya now.
Maya’s eyes were half closed.
Her breathing was shallow.
The ambulance siren was finally audible outside.
Julian saw the girls through the narrow gap beside the counter.
His entire expression changed.
Not relief.
Not fear for Maya.
Anger.
He pointed through the glass.
“Elena. Open the door.”
The child flinched.
Garrison noticed.
That mattered.
He walked toward the entrance but did not unlock it.
“Mr. Mercer?”
“Yes. Those are my daughters.”
“I know.”
“Then open the door.”
“They are receiving medical assistance.”
“They wandered out of the house.”
Garrison glanced toward the girls.
Julian continued.
“My youngest is sick. She refused prescribed medicine and then both children ran away.”
“Maya is your younger daughter?”
“They’re twins.”
“Right.”
Julian looked annoyed.
“Open the door.”
Garrison kept his voice neutral.
“What medication did you give Maya?”
Julian paused.
Just long enough.
“A pediatric sedative.”
“For what diagnosis?”
“She has severe sleep disturbance and anxiety.”
“Which drug?”
Another pause.
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“Officer, are you questioning my medical judgment?”
So he was a doctor.
Garrison already knew that from the prescribing credential.
Dr. Julian Mercer.
Pediatric gastroenterologist.
Respected.
Well connected.
The kind of father whose explanation would probably sound convincing to almost anyone.
Garrison looked at the pharmacy printout.
“I'm asking what was administered.”
Julian exhaled sharply.
“Hydroxyzine.”
That was not what the dispensing code indicated.
Garrison had deliberately withheld the drug name.
The code corresponded to a compounded liquid containing clonidine at a concentration normally used under carefully controlled circumstances.
Julian had just lied.
The ambulance arrived.
Two paramedics ran toward the side entrance.
Garrison unlocked that door, not the front.
Julian stepped back from the glass and shouted:
“She is my daughter! I have the right to go with her!”
One paramedic entered.
Then another.
They knelt beside Maya.
Blood pressure.
Pulse.
Oxygen saturation.
Pupil response.
Elena refused to let go of her sister until the female paramedic gently asked permission.
“You can stay right here.”
Elena nodded.
The paramedic looked at Garrison.
“What was given?”
“Unknown oral medication. Pharmacy record available.”
Julian heard that through the glass.
His face changed again.
He began pounding.
“Do not give them that paperwork!”
The entire station went silent.
Garrison slowly turned.
Julian realized what he had said.
Too late.
---
Maya’s blood pressure was dangerously low.
The paramedics started an IV.
Elena climbed into the ambulance with her.
Garrison assigned another officer to accompany them.
Then he finally opened the front door.
Julian entered fast.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Lower your voice.”
“You let strangers take my daughters.”
“They’re paramedics.”
“You have no authority to separate me from my children.”
Garrison looked at him.
“You reported them missing at 4:10.”
“Yes.”
“They entered here at approximately 4:14.”
“So?”
“Your report says they had been gone forty-five minutes.”
Julian froze.
“I estimated.”
“You also told dispatch Maya had refused medication.”
“She did.”
“Elena says you made her swallow it.”
“My daughter is seven.”
“Correct.”
“She misunderstands.”
“Maybe.”
Julian seemed surprised by the answer.
Garrison continued.
“That is why evidence exists.”
He held up the sealed syringe envelope.
Julian went pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“Elena brought it.”
“She stole it.”
“From where?”
Julian did not answer.
The station door opened again.
Detective Lena Brooks stepped inside, rain on her coat.
Garrison gave her the short version.
Seven-year-old twins.
One symptomatic.
Undisclosed medication.
Prescribing father.
Conflicting statements.
Missing-child report inconsistencies.
Evidence syringe.
Lena looked at Julian.
“Doctor Mercer, we need to speak.”
“I need to go to the hospital.”
“You may, once we establish what your daughter ingested.”
Julian laughed once.
“This is absurd.”
“Then it should be easy to clear up.”
---
At the hospital, Maya’s toxicology screen suggested exposure to a centrally acting blood-pressure medication.
The concentration was too high for her weight.
Not necessarily lethal.
But dangerous.
Especially because she had received repeated doses.
That last part came from Elena.
When a child-interview specialist arrived, Elena said:
“Daddy gives it to her when she cries at night.”
“How often?”
“Lots.”
“What happens after?”
“She sleeps.”
“Does Maya ask for it?”
“No.”
“Does Daddy tell her what it is?”
“He says medicine.”
“Does he give you the same medicine?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Elena looked down.
“Because Maya talks too much.”
That sentence changed the investigation.
---
Maya woke several hours later.
She cried when she saw Elena.
Then asked:
“Is Daddy mad?”
The nurse looked away.
Elena climbed into the bed carefully.
“No.”
Maya whispered:
“He said I ruin everything.”
A child-protection investigator named Robin Shaw sat nearby.
She asked:
“Who said that?”
“Daddy.”
“When?”
“After I told Grandma.”
Robin leaned forward.
“What did you tell Grandma?”
Maya’s eyes filled.
“That I saw Mommy.”
Everything stopped.
Robin glanced toward the detective.
“Your mother?”
Maya nodded.
Garrison, standing near the door, frowned.
The girls’ mother, Natalie Mercer, had been dead for almost two years.
Car accident.
At least according to the records attached to Julian’s missing-child report.
Robin asked carefully:
“What do you mean you saw Mommy?”
Maya whispered:
“In Daddy’s computer.”
Elena nodded.
“She was talking.”
“Like a video?”
“No.”
Elena looked frightened.
“She said Daddy didn’t tell the truth.”
May you like
Julian’s lie was suddenly larger than medication.
And whatever the twins had seen on his computer had frightened him enough to start drugging one of them into silence.
