Mr. And Miss Anonymous (6 page)

A moment later, Pete, Winston, and Lily were striding up the walkway to the entrance of the sperm bank.

Lily did her best not to look to the left, where the entrance to the egg donor clinic was. It was déjà vu all over again. She swallowed hard and was right behind Pete and Winston when they walked through the door.

This is a mistake. This is a mistake. This is a mistake.

“Pete,” she hissed, as he was about to walk up to the receptionist. “If we do this, our lives are never going to be the same. You know that, right?”

Pete turned around and pierced her with his level gaze. “Yes, Lily, I know that. I have to do this. I really do. You don’t. Right now you can turn around and walk out that door. Your call.” He waited, hardly daring to breathe, for her answer. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. At the same moment, Winston tried to wiggle his way between them.

Lily looked up to see something change in Pete’s eyes. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew right then, at that very second, that he wanted to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him.

Winston, sensing the mood swing, slapped two big paws on the countertop. The sound was louder than a gunshot. A sharp
woof,
then an ominous growl drew the receptionist’s attention.

No more waffling. Lily squeezed Pete’s hand so tight, her knuckles turned white as she stepped up to the plate and stood beside Pete when he spoke to the receptionist.

Lily’s heart fluttered wildly when she heard what Pete was saying. “I’m Donor Number 8446, and this is Donor Number 1114,” he said, pointing to Lily, “and we have some questions for whoever owns this joint.”

A
t the sight and sound of the massive dog, the office receptionist, a thick-around-the-middle woman trying to look nineteen, screeched, “Dogs are not permitted in this clinic. Remove that animal immediately.”

Winston whined, his huge paws still on the countertop.

“See, now you’ve hurt his feelings. I’d like to speak to the owner of this clinic,” Pete said nonchalantly.

“So would hundreds of other people. We deal in confidentiality, sir. Take that dog outside immediately!”

A door opened to the right of where Pete was standing. A young man emerged, a blank look on his face. Pete swung around and eyeballed him. Even though he kept his voice low, Lily and the receptionist could hear every word he said.

“Kid, if I ever see you here again, I’ll kick your ass all the way to the Nevada border. Now, get your butt back in that room and retrieve your donation. NOW! Here,” he said, pulling three hundred-dollar bills out of his pocket. He jammed the crumpled bills into the pocket of the young man’s IZOD T-shirt.

“Now see here. You cannot…”

Winston took that moment to back up to the doorway. With a running start, he cleared the counter with ease, at which point he sat back on his haunches and watched the woman whose hands were fluttering wildly.

Pete was back at the counter. “Winston, your manners are appalling. Shake hands with the lady. Now, as I was saying, we would like to speak to your superior. Or if that’s plural, we can handle that, too. Today is not a good day to try my patience.”

“I can’t help you. There’s no one here but the staff. All communications are done via computer, fax, or phone. I don’t even know who owns this clinic.”

The young man in the IZOD shirt, a panicked expression on his face, raced out the door and didn’t look back.

“Now, see here, you cannot be interfering with our business. I’m going to call the police. Right now!”

Pete shrugged. Winston growled.

“I’m going to need a contact number. You won’t mind if I use your computer, will you? A
yes
would go a long way in keeping Winston happy.”

“Obviously, I can’t stop you, but this will all go in my report to the police. This is highly irregular. We go through channels here. We do not deviate. That’s why we’ve been in business all these years.”

“I totally understand,” Pete said as he opened the door to enter the receptionist’s lair, Lily right behind him. Within minutes he was in another world, clicking away at the speed of light. He spoke once. “Where are the old files? Where are they archived?”

Winston growled, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

“I don’t know. I swear to God I don’t know. I’m allergic to dogs and dander. I’m also afraid of dogs.”

“You should work to overcome those fears,” Lily said. “I’d also consider another line of work if I were you.”

The receptionist gaped at her. It was Lily’s turn to shrug as Winston offered up his paw. The woman ignored it. Winston growled. He offered up his other paw.

Lily said, “I think if I were you, I’d shake his paw.”

Tentatively, the woman touched the big dog’s paw, then withdrew her hand as though she’d just touched a snake. Winston barked happily.

“What you’re doing here is illegal,” the woman said. Suspicion ringing in her voice, she addressed her next comment to Pete. “Don’t I know you?”

Pete half-turned in his chair. “I doubt it. People say that about me all the time. Now, which one of these e-mail addresses is for the person you have the most contact with?”

The receptionist pursed her lips. “I’m not telling you anything. Furthermore, I signed a confidentiality agreement when I was hired. I have no desire to be sued. I need this job and the benefits.”

His face buried in the computer, Pete said, “Winston, take care of it.”

Before the woman could gasp, Winston had her arm in his mouth and was leading her toward Pete. He gently released her arm when Pete said, “Thank you, Winston.” The big dog took up his position next to the receptionist.

Pete swiveled around and locked his gaze on the woman, whose nameplate said she was Ina Jones. “Listen to me very carefully, Ms. Jones. I want my old donor records, and so does my friend,” he said, pointing at Lily. “I never take no for an answer. Having said that, I now want to give you a heads-up on what’s going on. I’m sure you saw the news and the massacre at the boys’ school.” Pausing for a second, Pete continued by laying out for the frightened woman what he was increasingly becoming sure was correct. “Those youngsters originated in this…this place. Now, where are the old files?”

The woman started to wail. “I told you, I don’t know. I just collect the specimens, keep the records, and create the files. And I pay the donors. That’s the total of my job description. I’m sure you’re wrong about what…what happened at that school.”

“What do you do with the files, say, for the past month?”

“A courier picks them up the first of every month. There weren’t many lately. Spring is always a slow time. Actually, both spring and early summer are slow.” Ina was babbling now, her face mottled with fear.

“Do you call the courier, or does he just show up?” Pete asked.

“He comes on the first Monday of every month. I always have the package ready for him. He signs a slip and leaves. I have no idea what he does with the files or who he gives them to. I wouldn’t …I wouldn’t work for a firm that wasn’t ethical. What you’re implying is absurd.”

“Where are the donations?”

“That’s none of…”

Winston growled.

“In the clinic. There are two nurses back there who handle the specimens. Talk to them.”

“I will. Where is the emergency number you call if something goes awry?”

“What…how…?”

“Winston.” The one word was a command the shepherd acted on.

“All right, all right.” Jones rattled off a number that Pete committed to memory.

“Call the number now and tell that person there are two people here demanding their donor information because they say that information has something to do with the shooting at the school.”

Ina Jones sighed as she picked up the phone.

“Speakerphone, please,” Pete said.

The woman pressed a button. A rich baritone invaded the room. Winston’s ears perked up as he tried to figure out where the voice was coming from.

“This is Ina Jones at Unit Four.” Pete watched as the woman kept her eyes on Winston. “There are some…there are two people and a killer dog standing right here in the office who are asking for their donor files. He said…he said their…donations have something to do with that private school shooting. Here,” she said, thrusting the phone at Pete.

“And you would be who?” Pete asked coldly. “Me? I’m Donor 8446. My friend is Donor 1114. The dog doesn’t have a donor number. Police? That’s probably the best idea I’ve heard all day. If you don’t call them, I will.” Pete listened, his expression stoic. He finally interrupted the rich baritone. “Scratch the police, I think the FBI would be a better bet. Yeah, well, that was then, and this is now. You led me to believe I would be helping childless couples back when I made those donations. The media said the kids gunned down at that school were
orphans.
Right off the bat, you people lied to me, and you probably lie to every other donor who walks through these doors. I saw my kid at that massacre, and I sure as hell am going to want a DNA sample.”

Pete turned to Lily when the telephone unit emitted a high, keening sound. “The bastard hung up on me!” His eyes accused Ina Jones, who clasped both her hands over her heart, fear showing in her eyes.

Lily reached down to scratch the shepherd’s head. She could feel his huge body tremble against her leg. Clearly, the dog was reacting to the stress in his master’s voice.

“If there’s anything you know, anything at all, this would be the time to tell us.”

“What…what…you said just now… Is it true? Was one of those boys your son? How…how can you know that for sure?”

“I know,” Pete said. “He’s one of the ones who got away. At least I think he got away. What if anything do you know about that private school?”

“I don’t know anything. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This is just a run-of-the-mill job. There’s no stress, the pay is decent, and it provides good benefits. It’s an eight-to-six job, with plenty of time for me to catch up on my reading.”

“Where does your check come from? Who pays the bills? Who signs those checks?”

Tears were rolling down the woman’s mottled cheeks. “I don’t know who pays the bills. I assume some management company. My check and those of the staff come by UPS overnight every Friday. I hand them out. The bank is First Sovereign here in town. I can show you my check since I haven’t deposited it yet. I was going to do it yesterday, but I didn’t get to the bank on time.”

“Let’s see the check,” Pete said.

Ina bent down to open one of the desk drawers to get her purse. She pulled out her check and handed it over. Pete eyed the amount, then the signature, which was illegible. It didn’t matter. The bank would have the signature on file. He copied down the account number. “Nice pay for a receptionist—$980 a week clear after deductions.”

“I’m also the office manager,” the woman said defensively.

“You pay the donors in cash. Where does that money come from?”

“It…it’s in a separate envelope with the payroll checks. I get cash twice a month. I have to keep meticulous records. We don’t have a petty cash drawer. If I need to buy a lightbulb or something, I have to use my own money, get a receipt, and I’m reimbursed with my check.”

“How many people work here?”

“Right now, two nurses. In the fall and winter, when we’re really busy, it can be as many as three doctors and four or five nurses. Six-hour shifts. None of them are friendly.”

Lily decided it was time to weigh in. “What do you know about the fertility clinic?”

“Absolutely nothing. I’m not lying,” Jones said at Lily’s skeptical expression. “The fertility clinic is totally separate from the sperm bank. There’s a full staff over there, and the only reason I know that is I see them coming and going. They never come in here, and I’ve never been over there. That is the God’s honest truth. I don’t believe this is happening,” Ina wailed dramatically.

“You’ve been here eight years, you said. During that time do you remember anyone coming here who might be involved in the company? Think carefully. Did you ever hear the doctors or nurses say anything that might help us?”

“No. Never. This is really a boring job. It’s the same thing every single day. The routine never changes. Like I said, fall and winter are busy, with more donors coming through the doors.”

“Where are the personnel files?” Lily asked.

“I don’t know.”

Pete knew there was nothing more to gain from interrogating Ina Jones. He picked up the CD he’d copied and stood up. “Thank you for your help, Ms. Jones. You can call the police now if you want to. I’d call that number I just called before you do that, though.”

Ina Jones started to cry. She was dabbing at her eyes when the phone rang. The trio looked at one another. “Answer it and use the speaker button,” Pete said.

“Berkeley Sperm Bank,” Ina said in a jittery voice.

The rich baritone snarled a greeting. “Are those people gone? What did you tell those people?”

Ina closed her eyes. “They’re gone, and I didn’t tell them anything because I don’t know anything. I told you, they had a killer dog with them. They copied everything that was on the computer. I quit. I’m leaving right now.”

“You will do no such thing. Do you hear me?”

Pete’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at the threatening tone he heard coming from the speakerphone. To his and Ina’s surprise, Winston licked her hand.

“I guess you didn’t hear
me.
I said I quit. I’m going to lock the door, leave my key in the mailbox, and go, depart, vamoose. I will also turn out the lights. Good-bye, whoever you are.”

The phone rang almost immediately the moment the connection was broken. Ina ignored it as she set about turning out lights and gathering up her purse and other belongings.

Ina ran her fingers through her hair as she turned off the computer and straightened the calendar blotter to the middle of the desk. She looked Pete in the eye, and said, “I’m going to cash my check before they stop payment on it. Please, follow me out.” Pete and Lily had no other choice but to trail behind her. Winston followed, his eyes alert.

Ina was at her car, a maroon Honda Accord, when she turned to Pete. “I really hope you’re wrong about all this. I’m going to have a very hard time of it if I find out you’re right and I was even an unknowing part of this. I wish I wasn’t afraid of dogs. Winston seems like a nice one.”

Winston barked happily at the mention of his name.

The engine running, the window rolled down, Ina had one more thing to say. “I know I know you from somewhere. I never forget a face. It will come to me,” she muttered to herself as she drove away.

For the first time, Lily realized it was drizzling. “It’s raining!” How brilliant was that? “Now what?”

Pete looked down at the woman standing in front of him. Even with all that was going on he wanted to kiss her. Lily, reading his intentions lifted her head slightly. The world tilted, rocked, then tilted again. She knew she’d waited all her life for this moment. She said so when they finally drew apart.

“Damn!” was all Pete could think of to say. “Well, damn!”

Lily laughed. She linked her arm with Pete’s as she led him up the walkway to the fertility clinic.

What looked like a hastily printed sign that said
CLOSED
was taped to the door. Pete tried the door handle. It didn’t budge. He gave the stout metal door a hard kick. When nothing happened, he cursed under his breath.

“We could sit out here and wait for people to leave,” Lily said. “They can’t stay in there forever. There are eighteen cars in the parking lot. Staff, donors? Do we want to waste our time here? This is just a guess on my part, but I think the procedure at this clinic is the same as the one at the sperm bank. In short, Pete, we aren’t going to get any information. Maybe we should try the police or the FBI to see what if anything we can find out about the school. What do you think?”