the ideas I have.”
“I get your point,” Levin said, “but there have got to be some ideas worth implementing now—like the new website.”
“At least let us hear what all the ideas are,” Hoss said. “It would be good to have something else to focus on besides this horrible business.”
“As I said, let me check on my other obligations,” Lake said. “I have to leave now, but I’ll be in touch later.”
She hurried from Levin’s office, and out through reception. As soon as she was outside on Park Avenue, she wiped the fake smile from her face. Surely Levin remembered that the deal was for her to present her ideas next week—they’d discussed it several times, and she’d confirmed the date with Brie. She wondered if there was some ulterior motive behind his pressuring her to present them sooner. Maybe this was another way to discombobulate her—even though it wasn’t in the same league as nearly skinning her cat. Regardless of his intentions, she had to play along and try to seem nonchalant. And she had to find a way to concentrate and bolster her presentation, which was so meager at this point.
It was hot and sticky outside, but she barely noticed as she hurried toward Lexington Avenue. At the corner she took a right and headed south until she located a Starbucks several blocks away. She bought a coffee, found a table, and after sweeping it clear of spilled sugar, popped open her laptop. Once again she pulled up the article by Kit Archer.
The piece wasn’t pretty. It described how fertility clinics had become a big business these days but were still unregulated. Although the CDC required clinics to report their success rates, there was no way to enforce that or audit what was reported. That meant there was room for abuse. Archer also reported that some clinics had been accused of encouraging patients to try procedures that had low success rates but high price tags.
Lake had read through articles on fertility clinics when she first took on the project, but she’d never seen this particular one. She kept waiting for the name of the Advanced Fertility Center to pop up—because otherwise why would Archer be such a thorn in Levin’s side? But the article was from a Washington, D.C.–based magazine and most of the clinics mentioned were in the Washington area.
So why hadn’t Levin wanted her to see this piece? Perhaps one of the doctors at the clinic had once been affiliated with one of these D.C. clinics. Lake dug through her tote bag for the folder with all of the doctor bios and thumbed through them. None of them had ever worked near Washington.
But the article had to be significant. Maybe Archer was working on a follow-up piece and Levin had gotten wind that his clinic was going to be highlighted. Or maybe the article referenced dubious practices that Levin’s clinic was engaged in, too, and Levin didn’t want to arouse Lake’s suspicions.
Lake Googled Kit Archer himself. He was an award-winning journalist who had segued back and forth between print and television. He was now working as a correspondent for Reveal, an investigative news show. It was possible that Reveal was looking into the clinic as part of a story and that was why Keaton had gotten cold feet about joining. No doctor with a good reputation would want to find himself suddenly mired in that situation.
Lake touched the fingers of both hands to her forehead, thinking. She had sensed from the beginning Levin’s ferociousness about the clinic—in their initial meeting he had boasted of its record, dismissed some of the other East Side clinics, and said he was hiring her to get the attention they deserved. If Keaton had challenged Levin—about excessive rounds of IVF, for instance—or stumbled on abuses and threatened to expose him, Levin would have been livid and quick to defend his empire. Who was Keaton, after all, to get in the way of his glorious mission? She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Levin sneaking into Keaton’s apartment and drawing a knife across his throat. She couldn’t picture it.
But he might have hired someone to do it. And Levin had just enough arrogance to keep up pretenses during a dinner in Keaton’s honor, playing the gracious host while knowing that Keaton would soon be dead.
Next Lake went to the Reveal website and clicked on Archer’s bio there. Archer looked as if he was in his early fifties, with the rugged, square-jawed good