less common form.”
Tommy handed Dr. Jeffreys a stack of papers. “These are copies of her medical records from Pennsylvania. It shows her treatment before the cancer reoccurred.”
Dr. Jeffreys leafed through the papers.
“So how about it, Doc? Can you take a look and see if Sunshine Harrington was treated here? And if she matches up with Angelina’s records, can you share it with me?”
“I’ll check with our lawyers, but I think that should work. Why don’t you get back to me tomorrow?”
Tommy grimaced. “You know, most of the time when someone says, ‘Every minute counts,’ it’s bullshit, but in this case it’s true. If I’m right about Sunshine, then in nine days a man’s going to be executed for murdering someone who’s now married with a child of her own. I don’t want to live with that. You got to help me, Doc.”
“I’ll do my best. Give me a call at five o’clock.”
The drive to Minneapolis took a little over an hour. Tommy drove directly to the address he’d been given for the third Nancy Ferguson. The new-looking high-rise apartment building had no doorman and no security, something unheard of in New York City. He searched the mailboxes for her apartment number and then rode the elevator to the twelfth floor. He followed the winding corridor to her apartment and knocked. No answer. He banged harder. No answer, but this time he thought he heard a cat meow. She can’t be far gone if she left her cat behind.
As he’d done on Aspen Road, Tommy began knocking on her neighbors’ doors. He got lucky—or maybe it was unlucky—with the first one. The woman who answered the door knew Nancy Ferguson. “Nancy’s on a little trip right now,” she told Tommy. “I’m taking care of her cat for her. She’ll be back next week.”
“Do you have a number where you can reach her?”
“Well, I have her cell number, but she’s on a rafting trip, on the Colorado River. I don’t expect there would be cell service there. It’s something she always wanted to do but kept putting off. Then a good friend of hers died a week and a half ago and she said to me, ‘I’m not going to put anything off anymore. Life’s too short.’ She up and went, just like that.”
“If she calls you, would you give her my phone number? It’s extremely urgent that I speak to her as soon as possible.”
Tommy handed her his card and the woman looked it over. “As I said, I don’t expect to hear from her, but if I do, I’ll give her your message.”
One more dead end.
Just before five o’clock, Tommy dialed Dr. Jeffreys’s number. When Mandy answered, Tommy asked, “Is the Doc in?”
“He had an emergency come up, but he gave me a message for you. He got the go-ahead on searching the records, but because it’s so long ago, it’s not on the computer. One of the file clerks is doing a manual search, but so far—nothing. He’ll give you a call if he finds something.”
Tommy felt as if he was continuously butting up against a wall. Each morsel of information led to a dead end and further frustration. There wasn’t any more reason to stay in Minnesota. Time to go home.
CHAPTER
26
God had watched over him again. Or maybe it was just dumb luck, his calling the detective at just the right time and learning that he was heading to Minnesota. A nurse knew something. A lead. From the beginning, he’d known it was important to make the detective his friend. Now he pumped him for more information, learned where and when the meeting with the nurse would take place. He got there first and waited. A pasted-on mustache and sideburns helped to disguise him. He was good at waiting. Security probably thought he was a distraught parent who just needed some air.
He didn’t know what he’d learn when the investigator arrived. He only knew he had to prevent him from exonerating George Calhoun. That was his salvation. George’s death for a crime he’d committed meant he’d remain free. If the lead was good, if it proved George’s innocence, he had to stop the investigator before he acted on it. He thought about killing him. It would only delay the information—someone else would probably follow up with the nurse—but delay was all he needed. Eleven days. Surely, eliminating the investigator could buy him eleven days.
Tucked away in his inside jacket pocket was his brother’s badge. Even though Charlie had