Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green Page 0,72
may have told me where, but frankly I don’t remember. And if she told me her son-in-law’s name, I don’t remember that either. I saw Sunny last week, when she was here for her mother’s funeral, but we never talked about where she lived now. Oh, and she has a daughter. Rachel. She’s almost 3. Trudy never told me she adopted Sunny, so whether she could be your Angelina Calhoun, I have no idea.”
“Do you know any of Trudy’s friends? Anyone she might have confided in?”
“There was one woman, Nancy Ferguson, used to live right next door to her. She moved away four or five years after I bought this house. They were real tight. Nancy was here last week, too. I’m pretty sure she handled the funeral arrangements.”
“Do you know where Nancy lives now?”
“Up in Minneapolis.”
“And her husband’s name?”
“Gone. Left ten years ago. She and Trudy used to travel together, since both were singles.”
“That’s a help.”
“If Trudy confided in anyone, it would be Nancy. Find her and you may get your answer.”
Tommy thanked her and left. Before he pulled away, he called information. There were two Nancy Fergusons in Minneapolis and one in a nearby suburb. Tommy reached two by telephone, neither of whom knew Trudy Harrington. At the third number, he got a machine. He left a message, stressed the urgency of a return call and headed back to his hotel, where he planned to get good and drunk.
The ringing of Tommy’s telephone woke him. The bedside clock read 8:30. “Shit.” He’d missed his 8 a.m. appointment with Jeffreys. Normally an early riser, he shook himself awake and grabbed his cell phone.
“Hello.” His voice sounded thick.
“Mr. Noorland? This is Mandy, Dr. Jeffrey’s assistant. You had an appointment with him at eight this morning.”
“Mandy, I screwed up and overslept. I can get there in thirty minutes. Any chance he can squeeze me in?”
“He’s got appointments all morning. But I told him what you were looking for and he said he could squeeze you in at lunchtime, say around 12:30?”
“You’re a sweetheart. I’ll be there.”
His head ached from tying one on last night, something he hadn’t done in years. When he was at the Bureau, the guys would go out drinking on Friday nights, and he always downed quite a few those evenings. He left that behind when he joined HIPP. He shuffled to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower. He brushed his teeth while the room steamed up and then stepped into the tub. The hot water streaming down his face and body felt good, and gradually the ache in his head subsided.
He’d expected to see Dr. Jeffreys first and then drive up to Minneapolis. There wasn’t enough time to reverse the order. He’d just have to wait to try to find Nancy Ferguson. He tried calling the third number one more time and still got only her voice mail.
Before he knew it, the morning had disappeared and he made his way to the Mayo Clinic. He arrived with time to spare for his meeting with Dr. Jeffreys. Mandy ushered him into the office with a promise that the doctor would be back soon. She was good to her word. Five minutes later, Dr. Jeffreys walked in.
“Sorry about this morning, doc. I appreciate you rescheduling.”
“Not a problem. Sorry you had to wait two days. So tell me, how does Sunshine Harrington fit in with Angelina Calhoun?”
Tommy filled him in on his conversation with Jody. “So there’s a real possibility they’re the same person.”
“It’s possible. The problem I have is getting around the patient privacy laws.”
“I’ve got the signed release from her father.”
“Yes, but we don’t know he’s her father. And won’t know unless I show you her file, which gets us back to the privacy problem.”
Tommy thought for a moment. “Were the privacy laws in effect twenty years ago?”
Dr. Jeffreys hesitated. “Probably not as federal law, as it is now. But we still had a policy of respecting a patient’s privacy.”
“We know that Angelina was treated for leukemia back in Pennsylvania. If Sunshine’s the same age and was treated for the same thing, isn’t it probable that they’re the same person?”
“Leukemia is pretty generic. And it’s the most common cancer in young children.”
“Wait a minute.” Tommy opened his briefcase and riffled through a copy of the medical records for Angelina Calhoun that he’d received from Dr. Samson. “Here it is. She had acute lymphoblastic leukemia, pre-B-cell. Does that help?”