Triple Digits

Corey Strickland

Watching Claire Miles and Maddison Birchson attempt to convince the nurse to release Miss Miles early had been amusing, Corey had to admit that, but seeing the way the former street-racer winced when she sat up, shuffling over to the bathroom with the help of her bestfriend, only had his guilt racing back faster than Miles' car had been when she'd flipped.
He very easily could have killed the young woman.
Leaning back in his chair, sipping from the cup of coffee a nurse had brought him, promising Miss Miles would be released by, at the very latest, midnight tonight, he pondered Dunfield's softness.
He had thought he would be losing his job. Instead, he had been shackled to Miles' side for the next three months while she recovered, and he had to catch and jail Triple Digit! Three months wouldn't be enough time to bring the criminal in, not when they had repeatedly avoided police arrest in the past!
Reaching into his bag, Corey pulled out a notebook and pen, clicking it nervously while he waited for Miles and her friend to get back. The second Miss Miles was back in her bed, he would be interviewing her.
And Maddy, too, who seemed to have just as much knowledge of the racing world as Claire Miles did. Leaning back in his chair, spinning the pen in his fingers, he watched time pass on the clock hanging from a rusting hook on the wall, unease beginning to settle into his stomach, making his measly lunch that the hospital had provided- a ham and cheese sandwich- grow heavier than lead.
Did women normally take fifteen minutes in the bathroom? It had been a long time since Corey had been with a woman, and longer since he had been close enough to one to know their bathroom habits.
Rising from the chair, Corey made his way over to the bathroom, knocking on the door, leaning in as he called out, "Miss Miles? Miss Birchson? Are you alright in there?"
There was no answer, the bathroom within silent.
Wondering if he was making another mistake, he wrapped his fingers around the door handle, pushing it down, the latch opening with a click- It hadn't been locked. Pushing the door open, the hinges squealing, Corey Strickland gazed into the bathroom of Claire Miles' hospital room.
It was about as impressive as any bathroom, containing a single, white porcelain toilet, metal bars hammered into the tiled walls to help those who required assistance in standing or sitting, and a plain sink sat underneath a large window that overlooked the hospital grounds, the roof slanting away from it, the tiles covered in dried mud from a recent rain. There was a bar of unused blue soap on the sink's shelf, and enough spare toilet paper to last months.
A nearby shelf sat close to a shower, the tiles dipping to form a small section where the water could flow into a clean drain, a pile of towels and miniature bottles of shampoo and conditioner waiting to be used. The bathroom contained everything he had expected, except for Claire Miles and Maddison Birchson. In fact, there was no sign they had ever entered the bathroom to begin with. There was no second door, no way they possibly could have escaped, or even hidden in the room, but Corey examined it all the same, even searching the hospital room and hallway outside, only to circle back into the bathroom, his blood running cold. Only one possible escape left... The window was unlatched, the lock hanging open.
Rushing for the window, he shoved on the surface, the glass window swinging up and open, creating enough space that the girls could have escaped, if they were willing to brave the roof of the hospital.
Claire Miles' room was on the sixth floor, which meant they would have had to shuffle along the roof, trying not to slip from the tiles that slanted down to a six-storey drop, until they reached another window or even a fire escape. Offering a prayer to whoever might be listening, Corey tucked his notepad and pen into his bag, slinging it over his arm and sucking down a deep breath. Did he follow out the window and attempt to catch them? He knew nothing about Miss Miles outside of the car she used to drive, which made finding her impossible- Except he had her wallet and phone.
Relief shot through him, his knees wobbling at the idea that he would not need to clamber out of a window like a jilted lover escaping after a long night, instead reaching in and pulling out the brown leather wallet, flipping it open.
Within, a drivers license that was certainly suspended by now, was tucked into the clear plastic protective sleeve, and there were three credit cards, each one imprinted with the same name- Claire. J. Miles.
There was a student ID card for the local university, and a coffee loyalty card for Grandmama Josephine's shop, six out of nine of the stamps punched out, Miss Miles well on her way to receiving the first of her rewards. One of the pockets was stuffed full of receipts, mostly for lunches and clothes, although a handful were for expensive car parts, while another pocket contained two lotto tickets and an expired plane ticket for a city on the other side of the world that was easily a year old. Reaching into the plastic sleeve, Corey tugged out Miles' drivers license, studying the address written beneath her personal details.
She lived in an apartment in the centre of the city, in one of the more expensive suburbs.
Grabbing his car keys, surprised he still had his license after the escapade he had pulled, Corey Strickland set off to track down Claire Miles...