Good. Ill see you then. Call if you need to.
Bye, Dr. Livesay.
When the door shut behind her patient, Rachel picked up the phone, blaming her tardiness on her laborious walk.
Andrew Washburn here. You said you had a concern about the confidentiality of your pregnancy? In person, he was a gruff, blustery man whose snowy-white hair and mustache reminded her of Colonel Mustard from her childhood game of Clue. But on the phone, he betrayed a blend of shock and concern that made him sound more like a doting old father figure. Which was an odd image to spring to mind for a man whose clinic had fathered hundreds of babies.
Nothing like getting right to the point. Rachel pulled the wadded-up note from her coat pocket and spread it flat against the desktop. I received a message this morning from someone calling himself Daddy. Basically, he claims that my baby is his, and that he plans to take her from me.
Dr. Washburns response was half laugh, half snort. What? Thats preposterous. Our donors and clients are completely anonymous, and are never informed as to when or even if their sperm have been used. Their relationship with us ends after their donation has been made.
Rachel sighed, schooling her patience. Someone thinks he knows. He says he wants whats his.
I assure you, the clinic is not to blame here. She heard a sound in the background, like the shuffling of papers or the tapping of buttons on a keyboard. No one but myself and a few bonded staff members have access to the sperm donors names. There is no way a donor could find out if he was the father of your child.
Rachel twirled her finger into the curling phone cord, wanting to believe him. Are you sure?
The donors name isnt even listed in your file. Here it is. Only the number is recorded. 93579.
Can you tell me who 93579 is? she asked.
Washburns laugh this time seemed more genuine. Now that would be betraying his confidence.
Rachel couldnt see the humor in anything that might pose a threat to her baby.
Tell you what. Ill cross-reference the donors file and see if theres anything there that would make me suspicious of his having the opportunity to contact you.
What would make you suspicious? Rachel pulled her shoulders back and stood up straighter. Was there a possibility the father knew her? I thought you screened all your donor candidates.
We do. We do. But his social circle might cross yours somewhere that we missed before. Perhaps you let the number slip and he recognized it.
Social circles, huh? That would require a social life. Of which she had none. Her life revolved around school and her baby. Other than a few solitary errands and her twice-weekly trip to the Y for a water-aerobics class, she spent her time either on campus or at home. I dont think so, Dr. Washburn. The donors number is nothing Ive ever discussed with anyone but you. But Id appreciate any information you could give me.
Ill read through the file and call you tomorrow. She overlooked the patronizing gratitude in his voice. The man was probably relieved she hadnt pushed the issue any further.
Thank you.
By the time she hung up the phone she felt exhausted. The baby had snuggled into a comfortable position and fallen asleep. But Rachel couldnt afford to surrender to her own fatiguebe it physical or emotional.
Maybe that note was just a stupid prank perpetrated by one of her students. But she couldnt afford to just let it slide without checking out every possibility.
Her babys future depended on it.
JOSH STIRRED THE SPOON around in his mug of coffee. He hadnt added any sugar, but it gave him something to do while he waited for his contact to join him at the secluded table of the Bookstore Coffee House, a few blocks west of the UMKC campus.
Almost as if the thought had summoned him, a trim, well-built man with glossy black hair and golden-brown eyes slid into the seat across from him. So, hows college life treating you? You flunking any of your classes yet?
Josh looked up and grinned at A. J. Rodriguez. He was learning to appreciate the undercover detectives dry sense of humor. He responded in kind. Im doing well enough to maintain my self-respect, but not so well that I cant fit in with the party crowd.
A.J. sipped on the frothy cappuccino hed brought with him. Gotten any invitations yet?
Yeah. Im heading to a party tonight. Ive been told that if I can find my way into the back room, I can get my hands on more than a free beer.
His companion nodded. Good. Remember, dont push too hard at first. Find out who your friends are. If you do spot some meth, just note who has it and if its all for private use or split up for resale.
Josh shrugged. I know the drill. I overlook the underage drinking because this is reconnaissance, not arrest time. Ill do my job. I know Lieutenant Cutler is waiting for me to screw up so he can deny my promotion. Besides the fact Ive earned that detective shield, I dont intend to give him the satisfaction.
A.J. raised his hands in mock surrender. Cutler rides everybody hard. By the book is not always a bad way to go.
You follow your own rules and you made detective. A.J.s smile flashed bright white against his olive skin. Thats because Im a charming Hispanic and the precinct had to meet its quota for ranking minority officers.
Josh seriously doubted A.J. had ever achieved his successes on anything less than his own merit. But he played along with the joke. So youre saying if you had blond hair, blue eyes and your cousin was captain of the precinct, youd still be walking a beat?
If I had blond hair and blue eyes in the neighborhood where I walked a beat, Id be toast. A.J. swirled the coffee around in his cup, then changed the joking mood before taking another sip. I didnt agree to be your contact with the department just because Cutler assigned me. Ive got your big brother to answer to.
Coles not a cop anymore. A.J.s gaze followed a pair of girls who walked past, his eyes convincingly glued to their curvy backsides. You dont know that.
Cole walked away from the force two years ago. He does private security work now.
If you say so. A.J. dragged his gaze back to Josh. The detective had to be in his mid-thirties, but he blended into the scenery with these trendy young students as if he wasnt a day over twenty-two. Josh hoped his cover was half as convincing.
Is there something you want to tell me? Josh asked.
The rest of the cappuccino disappeared in one last gulp. A.J. scrubbed the remaining foam from his lips with a paper napkin. What Cole does now is his own business. But the man was my partner for eight years. Since youre looking to take his place in the drug enforcement division, it seems a natural step to start watching your back.
Josh bristled at A.J.s words. Im not taking anybodys place. Im making my own.
A.J. nodded, showing no reaction to Joshs declaration. Poor choice of words. I apologize. Cutler can be a controlling SOB, but hes fair. You clean the meth off this campus, and hell give you that promotion.
Can I get that in writing? Josh accepted the apology and support with a teasing smile.
There are no guarantees in this business. A.J. slipped his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. Heres a number where you can reach me at any hour. The lines secure. After he pushed the note across the tabletop, A.J. leaned back and rolled his shoulder. His mouth tightened with a wince of pain.