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“The baker didn’t show up for work today, and her parents just tried to file a missing person report.”
“Oh! Wow. That’s awful,” Laura said, moving away from the crowded storefront.
The baker, Lily, had dated Dan Chua until the previous May. Everyone, including Laura, had thought they were an incongruous couple—handsome, testosterone-ridden Dan and prudish, unattractive Lily.
The Italian bakery in the next block sold coffee, so she walked over to get a cup. The sidewalk café was still set up despite the nip in the air, and she took her cup of coffee outside to sit.
“You’re the last person I thought I’d run into today.”
She looked up into the face of Jake Stevens, the other PI in town and her former boss, headed inside to get coffee.
“Great disguise,” she muttered, shaking her head in disgust. “I’m trying to do surveillance.”
Sputtering, Jake backed away. “I’ll leave you, then,” he said. “Good luck!”
And then, as so often happened, just as Jake went away, she spotted the psychiatrist across the street, alone, carrying a white paper bag and a cup of coffee. Quickly standing, she threw her coffee in the trash and ducked behind a tree, watching him pass by. His office was on the opposite side of the street, and he looked both ways before jaywalking. Following him, Laura saw an ordinary guy with his bagged lunch, not a lothario on his way to an afternoon delight. But she’d been wrong before. Like the wife had said, something could be going on in the office when they were closed for lunch.
She snuck up to the building and saw the hours printed in gold paint on the glass door. Patients were seen until three o’clock on Mondays. Checking the time on her phone, she decided she’d return in two hours. It would be interesting to note who left the office and at what time.
In the meantime, she snuck around to the parking area behind the shops and, making sure she wasn’t observed, stuck a magnetized GPS tracking device under his car.
***
Will Peterson’s domain in the basement of the medical center was quiet. His focus was on breast tissue, so with a Do Not Disturb sign hanging on his office door, only his lab assistant and the runner with tissue samples from the OR were allowed access to him. Sample after sample of lymph nodes made their way to his knife for dissection and then to the microscope, seven patients in all that day, most with good news: lymph nodes were clear of disease. But it only took one positive report to throw Will into a state of despair, imagining the patient on the receiving end. No matter how long he did this job, he’d never get used to the human-suffering aspect.
Solving crimes was more to his liking, finding the answers to questions about the last moments of a person’s life. In the meantime, while his countdown to retirement unfolded, he planned on doing everything he could to help Laura in her quest to build an investigation business.
Finishing up his last specimen for the day, he meticulously entered all the information into the logbooks before doing his final dictation. When that was completed, he called Laura.
“Tell me, are you sitting at a sidewalk café hiding behind a book?”
“How’d you know? Actually, Jake Stevens knew who I was, even with my hair under your Mets hat.”
“You’re wearing dreads?” He squeaked out a laugh.
“I was,” she answered. “It didn’t work. But the husband doesn’t know he’s being followed, so I was safe.”
“Did you get the GPS in place?”
“I did. Now I’m clock-watching until two forty-five. His office closes at three on Mondays.”
“Fingers crossed,” Will said, really wanting to say,Be carefulorI wish I could go with you.
“I’ll send you a text when I’m on my way,” she said, as though sensing his longing. “Love you, Will.”
“Okay. I’ll be home early. Let me do dinner tonight.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet, but I can pick something up while I’m out.”
“No, I insist,” he said. “You’ve done dinner all month.”
After they said goodbye, Laura got into her car, making the trip back into town. She parked in the Organic Bonanza lot again to wait with binoculars trained on the doctor’s office. The first person to leave the building was a woman holding the hand of a small boy. Laura was awful at estimating children’s ages, but she thought the kid might be around four years old.
Ten minutes later, the doctor walked out, and Laura waited for an alert from the GPS under his car, but nothing happened. Minutes later, a woman exited, but she stopped to lock the door. This must be the doctor’s office assistant.
Laura drove across the street, staying on the side street, where she’d have a view of the doctor’s car. The assistant didn’t walk around to the parking lot, however. Getting out the binoculars again, Laura spotted her at the bus stop in front of the drugstore.
Checking her watch, she saw it was three fifteen. The doctor’s car was still in the lot, with no sign of the doctor.
