ime of birth, name of father and mother, the local hospital she’d been born in, the doctor who had delivered her.
So, they were local after all. Could that be part of it? Milwaukee twins…
If they were in Wisconsin, that could have made sense as a reference. But Milwaukee? Even Googling the term brought up nothing she could use.
Out of curiosity, and for the sake of completionism, Laura looked up Kenneth Wurz then. She was already on the right page, anyway. His record came up, and Laura looked across it without much more than vague interest: date and time of birth, name of father and mother, the local hospital…
Laura stopped. She frowned. She looked down at her notes, where she’d absentmindedly scrawled Ruby’s details. Ruby and Kenneth were born a year apart, but…
Same hospital.
And the same doctor name as attending.
That had to be more than just a coincidence. It was too strange to ignore—for all three of the victims so far to have been delivered at the same place, by the same man. It was nearly a quarter of a century ago, but it had to mean something.
Praying internally that the doctor was still alive, Laura picked up the phone, hoping she’d finally found the one thread to tug that would unravel the whole thing.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
“Hello?”
Laura sat upright at her desk, jolted from the hold music that had been playing in the background for the last ten minutes. “Yes, hello. This is FBI Special Agent Laura Frost.”
“My colleague tells me you were looking for information on Dr. Richard Fairmont,” the woman who had finally answered replied. “I’m his successor in the ob-gyn department.”
“The receptionist mentioned that he no longer works at the hospital,” Laura said. “She couldn’t tell me much more than that. Did he retire?”
“No,” the woman said, in a strange tone, and something set Laura’s skin tingling. Like the feeling of an approaching storm. “He was fired.”
In that instant, a burning pain shot across Laura’s temples. She held herself from crying out. “What happened?” she asked, managing to get out just the two words before she was pulled—
She was in his body again, watching through his eyes. Watching what he could see.
And what he could see was a woman.
He was sitting down this time, at some kind of café or perhaps outside a bar. The rest of the street around them was faded into darkness, frustratingly so. Laura searched for some kind of sign that would give her a location. There didn’t seem to be a thing.
He was watching through the windows, sipping from a coffee cup in front of him. Laura only knew because of how he looked down at the cup to pick it up. The windows were reflective, but the angle was all wrong. The place where she knew he sat was shaded by an awning, rendering him all but invisible. She could see a little of the street further along, but that was all.
If she could see his face…
But he wasn’t moving. Wasn’t getting up. And the reflection stayed maddeningly out of reach.
He kept staring steadily back inside the café, and Laura realized with a jolt what he was looking at. A young woman, maybe in her mid- to late twenties. She was serving, wearing a white apron tied around her waist. A maroon T-shirt, black pants. Was it a uniform? Laura could use that if it was, try to figure out who she was…
But then another server passed by, another young woman in a white apron. She was wearing a blue top and beige slacks. No uniform.
The glass was dirty as well as reflective, and Laura couldn’t quite make her out properly. She was always on the other side of the café, just too far away, always talking with customers and moving briskly. What Laura wanted was one good look, head-on, straight through the glass. But every time the young woman began to turn toward the glass, the man who was watching her looked down at his coffee. Dropping his eyes. Not giving away that he was watching her.
Laura wanted to scream. She needed more information. She needed to know—
“Well,” the doctor said, then hesitated. “This is a confidential conversation?”
“As far as it can be,” Laura said, her interest piqued now. At the same time, she was cursing her vision. How useless could it be? She knew nothing from it—nothing at all. There wasn’t even any real evidence that she’d seen a crime about to be committed. It was reasonable to assume, given the situation they were in. And it must be linked, somehow, to the hospital records, or it wouldn’t have triggered while she was discussing them. But what…? “If the information is relevant to a case we’re currently working, it may be used as evidence.”
The woman made a humming noise, like she was unsure what to think of that.
“Look,” Laura said, trying again. “This information could potentially save someone’s life. We’re investigating three murders. I don’t know yet if it’s relevant or not, and I won’t until I hear it, but you need to tell me. Either now, or when I come back with a warrant for your employee records in a couple hours’ time.”