Page 31 of Crow’s Haven (Savage Legion MC #15)

Ladybug

I nervously pull my jacket tighter around me as Smoke and I step into the marble lobby of the Department of Justice. The high, arched windows are impressive. This architecture is designed to command respect. And it most certainly does.

Distant voices echo down the corridor. My heart thumps loud enough that I worry others can hear.

Smoke’s hand presses briefly on my elbow, letting me know that he’s allowed to stay at my side because he is my attorney.

I would have rather had Crow here for emotional support, but that wasn’t possible.

An agent at the front desk looks up and nods when Smoke presents his credentials.

“Ms. Carlin and counsel?” he asks, voice clipped.

“Yes,” Smoke responds curtly.

Without a pause, he gestures down a hallway. “Interview room two. Right this way.”

My stomach twists, but I force my shoulders back.

We follow the agent down the hall. Smoke stays close beside me, his steps silent and sure.

We turn a corner and glide through a glass door into a narrow room, where two agents are already sitting at a conference table.

One is a tall woman in a navy suit, and the other is an older man with graying hair along each side of his head.

His name tag reads Markus Martin. They offer curt nods and handshakes.

“Ms. Carlin,” the female agent says, voice calm, eyes direct. “Please have a seat,” she gestures to a couple of chairs on the other side of the conference table. I sit down, careful not to let my legs shake. Smoke takes the other. The male agent props his notepad on the table.

My throat constricts. I inhale, lean forward, and set my palms flat. “Thank you for seeing me,” I say. My voice comes out steady although my pulse races.

The woman whose nametag reads Agent Angela Harper slides a copy of the warrant across the table.

“This warrant was issued after the initial hospital report from Twin Rivers Medical Center. It alleges you failed to intervene when your patient went into cardiac arrest. What’s your response to these charges? ”

I press my lips together, remembering Joshua’s pale face, the machines that monitored his vitals, and how horrible it felt when he flatlined.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. There was already a nurse in the room when I arrived.

I hit the emergency button immediately and the whole treatment team rushed in within seconds,” I say firmly.

Smoke had instructed me not to say anything about the contaminated IV bags just yet.

Agent Harper’s pen hovers over her notepad.

“We’ve reviewed the preliminary documents your attorney dropped off earlier today—your screenshots of vitals, the forum threads, and the communications your associates obtained.

Our forensic IT department is currently investigating those for authenticity.

Your attorney claimed that further evidence had been obtained. Can you tell us more Ms. Carlin?”

I glance at Smoke, who gives me a subtle nod.

I lean in, my voice low but clear. “We suspect a contaminated IV bag was administered to my patient and it resulted in his death. The float nurse changed the bag while I was on break. I returned to find the patient coding. Everything I did afterward was per protocol. In the hospital records it stated that I was the one who changed the bag, but I was on a break then, which can be confirmed. The real error was the pharmaceutical company messed up a batch of IVs. I was just the person they chose to blame for the child’s death. ”

“How did you arrive at the conclusion that the IV bag was contaminated?”

“After I was suspended, I looked on the online nursing forums. Initially I was searching to see if anyone had been suspended in the manner I had been, and what sort of legal recourse I was entitled to. Instead I found messages from several other nurses reporting suspicious incidents involving IV fluids from the same manufacturer. This was all in the information we submitted earlier.”

Smoke warned me to give short, concise answers and let the agents ask the questions. The DOJ office feels a little colder now. I try not to squirm in my seat as the agents quietly confer with each other. The agents carefully review the stacks of documents and screenshots I’ve provided.

Agent Harper’s eyes scan through the timeline in front of her, pausing periodically to jot notes in the margins. “Yes, we reviewed and verified that information. I just needed to hear you verify that you discovered the information yourself independently.”

Beside her, Agent Martin nods slowly, turning pages quietly. Their silence is unnerving because they’re using simple words and cryptic phrases to talk in front of us.

Smoke shifts slightly, leaning in. “Take your time, agents. We’re here to clear up any confusion you might have.

As you see, my client is entirely innocent of all charges, the email from the hospital’s CEO to the DON is sufficient to prove that.

He clearly states that they intend to frame Ms. Carlin for the death.

But this is part of a wider conspiracy to cover up extreme medical mismanagement, fraud, and a public health scandal, which could affect other hospitals in the county. ”

They keep us in the conference room for close to two hours, asking for clarification and additional information on all the details. It’s nerve-wracking.

Finally, the questions stop, and Agent Martin taps a paper gently, thoughtful.

“Your screenshots and logs line up exactly with the timeline we’ve independently reconstructed.

Your return from break, your immediate actions during the code, it all checks out,” he pauses, flipping another page.

“Also, the email communications between hospital leadership and the pharmaceutical company are deeply troubling.”

When Agent Harper looks up at me, her expression is neutral.

“Ms. Carlin, we’ve reviewed the materials your counsel provided.

We understand the hospital narrative placed you directly responsible for the IV contamination that led to Joshua’s death.

However, the evidence you and your associates collected does not seem to support that conclusion. ”

“That’s a huge relief,” I tell her.

Agent Harper nods in agreement, her brow furrowing slightly.

“We find your account credible, Ms. Carlin. Of course, we have a long way to go before all the information is verified, but frankly, the evidence strongly suggests you were targeted to deflect attention from corporate wrongdoing. At this time the DOJ considers you a material witness, not a suspect.”

“I’m glad I came directly to the DOJ, because I don’t think the Twin Rivers law enforcement would have listened to me.”

“I’m not going to give an opinion on whether or not there is a possibility of small town corruption going on with the Twin Rivers police department. But I will say that our primary concern at this point is for your safety.”

I glance at Smoke, whose nod is reassuring. “My safety?” I repeat, confused.

She sets her pen down and looks me in the eye. “Given the severity of the accusations and the powerful entities involved, we’re recommending protective custody until we’ve concluded our investigation. It’s a precaution, but a necessary one.”

Protective custody.

But then I stop. Do they mean witness protection? I’ve only just found Crow and the boys again. They can’t take me away.

“You’re hiding me?” I ask, my voice breaking.

Agent Harper shakes her head, “No, we need you to be in a safe house, but we are not talking about entering you into a formal witness protection program.”

I feel myself relax. The words feel heavy but also comforting. It’s validation—finally, someone with authority believes what I’ve known all along. Smoke lays a gentle hand on my arm, supporting me as relief floods my mind and body.

“You’ll be well taken care of,” Smoke assures me quietly. “This is exactly what we hoped for, someone to conduct a serious investigation to uncover the full truth.”

I nod slowly, emotions swirling in my chest. The months of fear, doubt, and constant second-guessing finally begin to unravel. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back, determined to remain strong.

“Thank you,” I tell the agents firmly, meeting their gazes with newfound courage. “Whatever you think is best, I’ll do. I want to cooperate fully so we can get justice for Joshua and for everyone else affected.”

Agent Martin stands, gathering his documents neatly.

“We’ll make arrangements immediately for you at one of our safe houses.

You’ll be escorted to a secure location, and you’ll have at least two agents with you at all times.

I caution you not to initiate or accept contact with anyone without permission from one of us or our superiors here at the DOJ. ”

Agent Harper adds, “Please do not disclose your location to anyone.”

“Anyone?” I ask.

Smoke gently touches my hand under the table. He’s telling me that whatever happens the club will know where to find me.

“Anyone,” Agent Harper repeats.

“Of course, I understand completely.”

Her severe expression relaxes for a moment, and she adds, “For now, rest assured, we’re going to see this through.”

As the agents step from the room, leaving me alone with Smoke, I let out a slow, shaky breath. He pats my shoulder gently, his presence a reassuring anchor. “You did it,” he says simply, pride clear in his voice. “You stood your ground and brought the truth to light.”

“You mean we did it,” I correct him softly, gratitude filling my voice. “I couldn’t have done this without you and the club.” The stiffness in my shoulders finally eases, as the weight I’ve carried begins to lift.

***

The car ride to the DOJ safe house is silent. The agents don’t even talk amongst themselves. The only sound that reaches my ears is the faint hum of tires against asphalt.