firm, and he gripped her hand almost without moving it. “Thanks for coming.”
“Is there an actual Lake Warren someplace in the world?” he asked, his eyes curious. They were a soft blue, Lake noticed.
“Probably,” she said. “But I haven’t heard of it. And as far as I know I wasn’t conceived there.”
He kicked his head back and smiled.
“Well, even if you were, it’s nice of your parents not to tell you. Kids hate hearing that kind of stuff.” He looked at her glass. “What are you drinking? I’m going to have a beer.”
She hesitated and then said she’d have one, too. She needed Archer as her ally and wanted to get in sync with him. After snagging the bartender’s attention with just a lift of his chin, Archer ordered their beers and turned his attention back to her.
“I wish I had more time,” he said. “I’m supposed to be up in the ballroom for some kind of photo op in fifteen minutes. But until then I’m all yours.”
“Then I’m going to be perfectly honest with you,” she said, holding his gaze. “I don’t have much to go on. But I have a vague sense that something weird might be happening at the clinic.”
“Weird how?”
Lake’s left shoulder shot up instinctively.
“I’m not sure.”
He raised his beer bottle to his lips, not bothering with the glass. She sensed his impatience, though he was doing his damnedest to contain it.
“Was it something you saw—or overheard?” he said after taking a long drag of beer.
“As I said on the phone, I’m a marketing consultant for the clinic. While I was doing research there last week, I found a copy of the article you wrote about the fertility business. I was carrying it around, planning to read it later, and one of the partners saw me with it. He grabbed it away from me—like he didn’t want me to see it.”
Archer raised his eyebrows. They were white, like his hair.
“Is that it?” he asked.
She hesitated and looked off to the side. Her concerns were also based on the “snag” Keaton had mentioned. But she couldn’t tell Archer that. She watched him take another swig of his beer. His hands were large, huge really, and slightly ruddy, like his cheeks. No wedding band. When he set the bottle down, he looked directly at her.
“Yes,” she said. “Like I said, I don’t have much to go on. I just thought if you could tell me what irregularities might exist, it would help me figure out if something was actually going on.”
Her whole body had begun to prickle with anxiety. She’d not only just betrayed the clinic but suddenly she had the sense that she’d left herself exposed.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, clearly picking up on her discomfort.
“I’m worried I’ve opened a can of worms—perhaps for no reason.”
He watched her for a moment and then shook his head.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Because you’re not the first person to suggest there’s something bad going on there.”
16
HER MOUTH PARTED in surprise. It was a validation of what her gut had been telling her and yet his words were still a shock.
“Who else told you that?” she asked.
“First tell me about this Dr. Keaton,” he said. “Did you know him?”
At the mention of Keaton’s name, she could feel the blood rush recklessly to her face. She reached for her beer bottle, which she’d left untouched so far, splashed a little into her glass and took a sip. The coldness soothed her raw throat.
“Just in passing,” she said, avoiding his glance as she set the glass back down. “I’ve only worked at the clinic for a few weeks.”
“Do you think someone from the clinic might have killed him?”
Lake was slightly surprised by his direct question, but also relieved not to have to beat around the bush.
“It’s possible,” she said. “We learned yesterday that he’d given one of the nurses a set of his apartment keys and she’d left them in her desk. Someone could have swiped them and made copies.”
“Do you think there could be a connection between his death and the suspicions you’ve had about the clinic?”
“I’ve definitely worried about that. Though this all could just be a coincidence,” she said.
“You know what I’m going to say, of course,” he said with his eyebrows raised. “As a reporter, you learn there are few coincidences.”
“Can you please tell me what you’ve heard about the clinic?” Lake urged.
“Okay. About two months ago a woman called my producer Rachel out of the blue.