Who's Footing the Bill?
Lindsay
I had arranged to meet Thompson outside the hospital, where Rachel would be brought out in a wheelchair once all the details regarding payment for the services were sorted out.
Up until that moment, I hadn't given it much thought, which was a big oversight on my part. It was likely that Rachel didn't have her health insurance sorted, after all, she was going through financial difficulties and we had been out of the United States for months. While we were in London, Enrico took care of that matter, but in Seattle, he didn't show the same care, especially since he insisted on not being the father of Rachel's babies. I quickly corrected myself, as now it was just one baby.
I was surprised to find out that Rachel's health insurance was up to date and payments had never been interrupted. However, the question that persisted in my mind was: who was paying for the services? My curiosity on the matter grew even more.
However, at that moment, there were more urgent issues to be resolved. One of them was to communicate to other people about the loss of one of the babies and the imminent hospital discharge, something that seemed illogical, but which I did not allow myself to question, given the urgency of the moment. After a difficult conversation with Enrico and Joseph, I returned to the reception with all of Rachel's documents in hand, determined to find Thompson. He did not answer my calls, and I did not want to risk leaving with Rachel without him waiting for us at the agreed location.
My suspicions were confirmed when Thompson was not in the patient pick-up and drop-off area. I felt a twinge of irritation, considering that he had offered to take us home himself and now seemed to have disappeared without a trace, a reckless attitude, especially considering Rachel's imminent discharge from the hospital. Faced with this dilemma, I began to consider calling a taxi, as I couldn't rely on the goodwill of someone who, despite having helped us so far, was practically a stranger. I decided to proceed with this idea when suddenly, I felt someone grab my hand and a shiver ran through my body.
"Lindsay?" called Ryan.
"Oh, it's you!" I replied in surprise.
I was intrigued by the intense reaction that the simple touch of his hands caused in me. I felt embarrassed even though I was sure Ryan wouldn't notice what was going on internally.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, clearly curious. “Where's Rachel?”
“Rachel is still in the room, but she's been discharged” I explained succinctly. “I'm looking for a taxi because our ride has vanished.”
I opted for honesty; despite the friction between the brothers, Ryan had helped us before and had always been kind to me, which made me less embarrassed to admit what had happened.
“Aren't you leaving with Enrico?”
“Mr. Jensen Thompson kindly offered to take us home” I began to explain, but quickly corrected myself. “But he…”
“Disappeared” Ryan finished with an amused smile at my bewilderment. “Wait... you said Jensen Thompson?”
“Yes, exactly” I replied.
“We need to talk.”
Without warning, Ryan grabbed my arm and led me towards one of the hospital exits. Instead of heading to the reception or the waiting room, we made our way towards the parking lot.
“What's going on, Ryan?” I asked, disturbed.
His behavior was becoming increasingly strange, and my heart started beating faster, sensing that something unpredictable was about to happen. When he stopped next to a red sports car and gestured towards the open door, I hesitated about following his lead.
“Get in the car” he insisted.
“I don't understand why we can't talk out here, Ryan” I protested, with little conviction.
“I have something important to tell you, and I don't want us to be seen together” Ryan explained, pointing once again into the car. “Just get in. We don't have much time.”
What a strange situation, I thought, feeling a certain discomfort. However, I didn't feel real fear or aversion towards Rachel's brother, so I got into the car and anxiously waited to hear what he had to say, knowing it must be something of extreme importance.
Ryan followed suit and got into the car, taking the driver's seat. He looked around in all directions as if he needed to make sure of something or was hiding from someone.
“What's going on, Ryan?” I asked again. “Why are you acting so strange? Who are we hiding from?”
“Jensen Thompson.”
Even though I didn't yet understand what he meant by that statement, the mere mention of Thompson's name made my nervous system react, leaving me tense and anxious. At that moment, before even hearing what Ryan had to say about Rachel's boss, it seemed like I already sensed that the situation was about to become very unpleasant.
I wasn't prepared for Ryan's speculations, let alone for what he had been investigating for so long, which now seemed to fit into the pieces of the crazy puzzle he had assembled.
“I can't believe this is possible, Ryan,” I said, still incredulous after hearing the absurd story he had just revealed. “This can't be real.”
It all seemed overly fantastic, like a plot from a cheap suspense movie with a poorly constructed storyline. If Ryan's suspicions were correct, there had been no effort to hide the clues related to everything that had been done to harm Rachel's family.
“Let me recap” I continued, trying to control my breathing. “Madelyn, your foster mother, mentioned the name Jensen Thompson before she died, but didn't have the chance to say anything else about him…”
“Exactly” Ryan confirmed. “She only asked me to be careful and mentioned that name. But at the time, I thought it was someone related to my brother's company and never bothered to investigate this guy further.”
“I see” I continued. “But what made you decide to follow your own girlfriend today?”
“I followed Madison and found her with the same man who was at the reception yesterday, who I now know is Thompson, right here in this parking lot. I don't know where they went, as I lost sight of them.”
“And why did you decide to follow Madison?”
“Because I forgot my phone in our room, and when I came in, I noticed she was in the shower and her phone was ringing” Ryan explained. “She's been very nervous for the past few months, acting strangely. And since I had already left, she didn't bother to lock the phone, so I just needed to read a few messages to decide to follow her and see with my own eyes what's going on between my girlfriend and your little friend.”
“He's not my friend!” I protested indignantly.
“You were talking yesterday, you seemed quite close.”
I didn't like how Ryan was insinuating any connection between me and Thompson, especially when that was far from the truth. I quickly clarified what the true relationship between us and Thompson was.
“Jensen Thompson is an old friend of Rachel's family, who found her again and offered to help her” I explained “As one of the directors at Mitchell, he has the capability to do so.”
Ryan raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the revelation.
“He works at Mitchell?” Ryan asked. “This gets more interesting by the minute.”
A tense silence hung between us as we absorbed the gravity of the situation. It seemed like each piece of the puzzle was slowly falling into place.
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