Like screwing Dani and getting her pregnant when we're trying to raise a daughter into a decent young woman.
She held her tongue.
Just then, David's assistant Lindsay McKee entered the office. She was young, single, pretty-a deadly combination for any doctor.
"Working on a Sunday?" Emily gave David a knowing glance.
He ignored it.
"Doctor, I had some things to do," Lindsay said, shashaying into the room, in a short skirt and three-inch heels. "Some problems with the insurance on your Tuesday surgery." Lindsay rolled her big green eyes and David smiled.
"All right," David said, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Did any of us think insurance companies would run our lives when we were back in med school?'
Lindsay laughed. "God knows they run this hospital!" She nodded at Emily and waited a beat to see if Dr. Kenyon would introduce them, but he stayed mum. As soon as the girl left, Emily came around the desk to face the computer screen. David started typing his password: Dani2l.
It wasn't hard to see the keys he was hitting, especially the last two.
"Is that her age?" Emily's words were drenched in sarcasm.
David made a face, but said nothing.
"Kidding
David hit the Enter key and the system flashed into life. A blue-and-white screen displayed various fields for names, socials, addresses, and insurance information.
"Okay, to search the database is pretty easy," he said, looking at Emily. "If I can do it, you can do it."
"Okay. Remember you're talking to a woman who still thinks blackberry is a pie filling."
"I remember." He softened a little. "Records from all Seattle hospitals are held on separate servers that share the same interface and same security protocol. The only hitch here is that I'm a surgeon, not a records clerk. I have access, but it will log that I've looked at records that I probably have no need to review. It will send a report up to the IT people and I'll have some explaining to do"
"You'll think of something," Emily said. "You can be a good liar when you want to be" She hated herself for saying that, but the words just slipped out. David was doing some thing that she needed done. Desperately. A court order would take too long.
Jenna won't be another Kristi Cooper.
"Where's your printer?" Emily asked.
"You didn't say anything about making copies. I could get in deep shit for this. No copies."
"You want me to be here all day? Do you want me to get to the bottom of this?"
David eyed his office door. He wasn't entirely convinced, but he was willing to consider what Emily was saying. His assistant Lindsay dropped off some correspondence. She smiled at David. It was a slightly flirtatious smile, not quite come hither, but far past cordial.
The look for a single doctor. Emily figured she didn't know that Dani was at home, pregnant and destined to be the doctor's wife.
After she left, David spoke.
"Okay, the printer is next to Lindsay's workstation. I'll tell her you are printing out some tax stuff for us, and to keep people clear of the printer. She'll listen."
"Yeah, she's in love with you."
David blushed slightly, but he didn't deny it. "Just do what you need to do. For Jenna" He left his expansive office, letting the door shut slowly behind him.
Emily stared at the screen and began to type: Angel's Nest + Agency. The system's hourglass timer began to spin as the computer worked through the thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of records. Emily looked around and noticed for the first time a photo of Jenna and David taken at the Grand Canyon. She was missing from the shot. Not because she'd held the camera-as she did on most of their travels but because he'd cropped her out. She could still see the shadowy form of her arm over Jenna's shoulder. Emily shook her head. The computer kept grinding. Through the frosted glass panels alongside his office door, Emily could see Lindsay's silhouette moving around her cubicle.
The search screen popped up.
What the-?
It was packed with entries for Angel's Nest. Bonnie Jeffries's name leapt off a few of the citations. There must have been more than a hundred. Emily started scanning them when Lindsay decided she needed to come in with a mug of stale hospital coffee.
"Want some? Dr. Kenyon told me you're his ex-wife," she said, though there was no reason except the medical assistant's apparent need to confirm what her boss had told her.
"I'm fine," Emily said. "I'm printing out some private tax records"
"David told me," she said.
David? Hmmm. Poor Dani. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
"I'll get those pages for you"
"No," Emily said firmly. "I'll get them. They are, after all, private."
"Oh that's okay," the assistant said with a smile. "David trusts me with all of his private affairs."
"But I don't." Emily got up, pushed past the dumbstruck young woman and went to the printer. She guarded it as page after page rolled out. Finally, a moment or two passed, and the machine stopped. She retrieved the stack and started for the elevator.
Lindsay stood there with her hands on her hips. She was talking to another medical staff member. Emily could read just one word on her lips.
"Bitch."
You don't know the meaning of the word, Emily thought. But Dani will teach you.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Sunday, 5:10 n.M., Seattle
It was very late afternoon when Emily returned to her hotel room. She'd practically lived on her cell phone since leaving David's office with the medical records tucked into a Macy's shopping bag next to Lindsay-in-love's desk. She'd talked with Gloria at the sheriff's office back home. No news. She left a message for Olga. She had even talked with Dani to try to patch things up. The conversation played in her mind and she felt her anger rise.
"I am sorry," Emily had said, gritting her teeth somewhat, but making a valiant effort. An outboard motor went by. Dani was out on the deck overlooking the lake.
"I'd like to believe you," Dani responded, coolly. "For Jenna's sake"
Why do you insist on being such a bitch? You've got the view home. You got the surgeon. You can have all of that. Just don't bring up my daughter's name like she means a damn thing to you.
"That's right," Emily said, swallowing the bile in her throat, "for Jenna"
She slipped out of her shoes and made a beeline for the minibar, which to her dismay didn't have a drop of tequila. She'd had a taste for the Mexican booze all day. She settled for gin and tonic. After talking with Dani Brewer, it just seemed especially good right for the moment. She noticed the light on the hotel phone blinking and she punched in the code for the message center. There were two. Both from Christopher Collier.
"Hi Emily. Chris here. Dinner tonight? I've tried your cell twice. You must be out of range. Call me and let me know if you want to meet up at your hotel." Drinks had become dinner. That was fine with her. A kind face would be a welcome change.
The second call was a hang-up.
She dialed Christopher's number, this time getting the Seattle Police detective's voice mail. In a way it was a relief. She felt anxious, foolish, tired. But she was also lonely and in need of company. Maybe even in need of validation that she hadn't screwed up her entire life or lost her daughter.
Hadn't been the victim of bad karma.
"Chris, dinner tonight sounds lovely. How about eight? See you here at the Westfield."
Seeing Christopher, she knew, was something she had to do. She sipped her drink and remembered what until Jenna's disappearance, had been the worst episode of her life. It was long ago and Christopher had been there.
Long before the tornado, on the Washington coast