CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rachel continued to feel almost as if she were being babysat while Jack drove the car to Dr. Lucas’s house. It was not all that uncommon for him to be behind the wheel while she kept an eye on directions via GPS, but it felt different this time. It was very clear that she was more or less a backseat driver for this case. But again, she sat in the realization that she felt incredible, so she didn’t question it at all.
They’d elected to try Lucas’s house before contacting Life Fulfilled, figuring it would be much more beneficial to go directly to the source than to jump over whatever hurdles and obstacles the foundation might set out before them. The first sign that Lucas had fallen from grace came in the location of his home. Call it a stereotype or not, but Rachel had been through enough neighborhoods and communities to know that the vast majority of doctors lived in nicer neighborhoods—neighborhoods where the houses might looked very much alike, but the price tags were in the high six figures or more. A lot of them were also located near hospitals or universities.
But Dr. Benjamin Lucas lived in a rather basic-looking neighborhood. There was nothing at all wrong with it but it simply wasn’t the sort of place she’d ever known a doctor to live. They passed by a few modest houses and then turned into a small two-lane thoroughfare that passed through a chain of apartments and townhouses. They found a parking spot just a few spaces away from Lucas’s townhouse and stepped out into a quiet corner of a subdivision.
After knocking on the door twice and not getting an answer, it became apparent that he wasn’t home. They both walked away from the door, sensing the same issues ahead without having to actually verbalize them. In fact, neither of them spoke it out loud until they were back in the car and Jack was pulling out of the parking spot.
“We’re going to have to tip off Life Fulfilled,” he said.
“And if he’s not there in the office and the foundation is up to something,” Rachel said, “they’ll have every opportunity to tip him off or give us the runaround about patient confidentiality.”
Jack waited several seconds before adding: “You know that if it gets to that point you have to sit the rest of it out, right? If we have to go through official channels for paperwork and getting access to a doctor or his records—”
“I know,” Rachel said, once again feeling out of place. “And if that happens, I’ll shut up and back away.”
Jack chuckled and shook his head. “You’ll shut up?”
Rachel shrugged and smiled at him. “Eh, we’ll see.”
They rushed back to the Life Fulfilled offices with the possibility of a strong lead growing between them. There was certainly something sinister about the idea of an unlicensed doctor going around and distributing what he thought of as mercy kills, but it also felt like a very far-flung theory. By the time they reached the office, Rachel thought there was a morbid sort of sense to it. After all, working with an organization like Life Fulfilled would give such a killer very easy access to a list of victims. It was almost too perfect of a set-up.
When they walked back into the office, the same receptionist they’d spoken with on their first visit was there. She looked confused to see them again but not concerned.
“Well, hello again,” she said. “Has there been any luck on your case?”
“Sadly, no,” Jack said. “We feel like we might be making a bit of progress, though. And that progress led us to a man named Benjamin Lucas.”
Rachel could see the recognition in her eyes. She nodded and seemed happy that she’d made the connection. “Oh, sure,” she said. “He’s our consultant for anyone that signs up for services. He makes sure all of the documentation and records are accurate and up to date.”
“And not forged?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, and that, too.”
“And does every single applicant see him?” Jack asked.
“Yes, at some point during the process. It’s usually one of the very last things.”
“So, in the case of Troy Hetfield, the latest name to be added to your waiting list, Dr. Lucas would have seen him within a few days of his murder, correct?”
Sheepishly, the receptionist said, “Yes.”
“We need to speak with him, but he wasn’t home,” Jack said. “We thought he might be here.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she said. She looked at the laptop behind the desk and clicked around for a bit. “I’m looking on the schedule,” she said, “and it shows that he has two in-home consults today. One of them is currently taking place.”
“Are these new people for the waiting list?”
“I believe one of them is currently working to get on the list. The other…well, I can’t give specific details, of course, but it’s more of a check-up of sorts.”
“We need to know the addresses of these homes,” Rachel said.
“I’m very sorry, but I can’t give you that information. Client confidentiality and all.”
Rachel stepped forward, doing her best to keep her cool. “How well do you know Dr. Lucas?”
“Not very well. Just on a friendly basis when we pass each other at work.”