revelation about the keys. But they’d also asked about Keaton’s work at the clinic in L.A. That seemed to mean that they were pursuing other theories simultaneously. And surely by now Levin must have told them about the gambling issue. As she scratched down these notes, Lake recalled their question about Dr. Hoss. What had that meant? she wondered. Did Hoss have a short fling of her own with Keaton—and was it possible she murdered him because he’d dumped her? She didn’t look like the type to accept rejection easily.
But the most disturbing thing had been what they’d said at the end: that someone had reported that Lake had seemed upset since the murder, not herself. The only person who had appeared to pick up on that was Harry. She couldn’t understand why he would have betrayed her. Did he really suspect her? Had he just been pumping her on Sunday, not really concerned about her well-being? She wondered if the cops had bought her explanation for her display of nerves. Or did they already suspect her of having been the one in Keaton’s bed that night? They’d seemed intent on rattling her, going in circles with their questions.
She had to reach Kit Archer. If there was something going on at the clinic, there was a chance he knew what it was. And who else could she ask? She reached for the phone but this time she knew she had to leave a message and pray he called back. So it was a total shock when after three rings, a smooth, deep voice said, “Archer.”
“Mr. Archer,” she said, caught off guard. “My name is Lake Warren. I read the piece you wrote on fertility clinics. Do you have a minute?”
There was a pause as he digested what she’d said.
“Okay,” he replied. “What can I do for you?” He sounded mildly receptive, like a reporter who knew that sometimes leads came from cold calls like this one.
“I was hoping to speak to you—about the same topic.”
“Are you a patient at a clinic?”
“No, I work at one—as a marketing consultant.”
As soon as she said the words, it hit her. She was violating the trust of her employer. But she had no choice, not if she wanted to learn the truth.
“Which one?”
“I—I’d rather not say over the phone. I was hoping we could meet in person.”
“But what exactly do you want to talk about? You’ve got to give me a little more to go on here.”
She hadn’t thought this far ahead. What did she want to talk about? Simply the fact that she’d come across his article in a file? That would sound silly.
“You brought up some interesting points in your article,” she said, scrambling. “I’m just worried that there could be irregularities at the clinic I’m working at.”
“What kind of irregularities?”
“Again, I’d prefer not to get into it over the phone.”
“Well, we’d be happy to hear what you have to say. Can I have my producer give you a call and she can arrange to meet with you?”
Damn, she thought. She had to keep trying.
“But I’d really prefer to talk directly to you—and as soon as possible.”
“Why the rush?”
“There’s a certain urgency. I can explain when I see you.”
“Why don’t you tell me the name of the clinic? Otherwise we’re going to be just pussyfooting around.”
“You won’t be going anywhere with it at this point, right?”
“Nope—we’re just talking.”
“It’s called the Advanced Fertility Center—on Park Avenue.”
There was a pause, and she could almost hear him thinking.
“One of your doctors met a pretty ugly death last week,” he said.
She caught her breath. Of course, she thought. Because of Keaton’s connection to a fertility clinic, Archer would have found the murder particularly noteworthy.
“Yes,” Lake said quietly.
“I’d be willing to talk,” Archer said, “but I’ve got some scheduling problems. I leave town on Wednesday for a story, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone. Maybe just a couple days, maybe more.”
“Is there any way you could meet today, or tomorrow?”
“Today’s totally out,” he said. “But I could probably meet you tomorrow. I’ve got an event in the early evening but I should be able to steal a few minutes right before then.”
Archer suggested they meet at five-thirty at the Peacock Alley bar in the Waldorf-Astoria, right before his event, which was in the ballroom there. He rattled off his cell phone number; and she offered a brief physical description of herself and gave him her own cell phone number.