But she’d made a mistake. According to Jesse Perry, Teri Harper was not born in November. He’d sent her flowers for her birthday three weeks ago, and that meant either Jesse Perry was wrong or Teri’s birthday was in May.
Ella checked Teri’s records and found that, indeed, she had been born on May 15. The anomaly came from the fact that they’d originally consulted Teri’s landlord for her details, and Teri had lied on her application. Not only that, but she wasn’t 25. She was 23. Her first connection was off.
Now, Ella had to find a new connection, and that meant it was time to put her exceptionally long short-term memory to good use. She hadn’t done this little trick since her university days, but old habits die hard, as they said.
She squared up Teri Harper’s file – 16 pages worth – then placed it down in front of her. She cleared her head, focusing on just the space between her thoughts, then looked down and read the first line over and over again.
They called it speed reading. Her record back in her university days had been 100 pages in 26 minutes. The trick was to focus solely on the nouns, ignoring verbs, prepositions, suppositions, conjunctions, and transitions.
It had been a long time, but she fell back into the swing of things pretty quickly. The essential words began jumping out at her as though they glowed a different color. Less than a minute in, she’d consumed five pages. The rest followed in another minute, then Ella put the pages back down and let the information settle into her conscious mind.
Nothing stood out yet.
She did the same with Cassie Sullivan’s file, this time a little bigger because PD had more intel on her: 21 pages.
Ella got 11 pages in before stopping abruptly.
Something caught her under the medical history section.
Cassie Sullivan had been treated at Lancaster General Hospital last year. The exact details were confidential, but the file mentioned a surgical procedure in the maternity ward.
Teri Harper had been treated at the same hospital, also a surgical procedure in the maternity ward.
Neither file went into detail. They could have been fetal terminations or perhaps a miscarriages.
Then something itched at the back of Ella’s mind. Something she’d all but forgotten about.
Cassie Sullivan, the first victim, had a tattoo on her leg. The killer had bizarrely sawn it off. If it wasn’t for Cassie’s mother, Ella would never have known about it.
Ella felt the walls begin to close in. Everything got a little tighter, more succinct.
She grabbed her laptop, found the phone number for Lancaster General Hospital and made the call.
It rang for an agonizingly long time, probably thirteen or fourteen rings. After a lifetime of waiting, a receptionist finally answered.
“Hello?”
“Good evening. My name’s Agent Dark with the FBI. I’m looking for someone who may have received treatment in your hospital. Could you help me?”
“LFD Numbers please,” the receptionist said.
Ella disclosed her agent number and the local PD designations. They were required for the admin staff at the hospital to ensure they were genuine and not some journalists trying to steal information.
“Accepted, what are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for something very specific, but I don’t know an approximate date you treated this person. It could have been last week, it could have been a decade ago.”
“Our records go back to 1989,” the receptionist said.
“I’m looking for a woman named Irene, who may have been treated at your hospital for amputation or a possible fetal termination.”
“Hold please.”
Ella appreciated the receptionist’s no-nonsense approach. It was easier than receiving a barrage of questions for every query.
“One result, Miss,” the woman said.
Ella took a deep breath and prayed it covered all of the criteria.