Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green Page 0,82
she ever did.
CHAPTER
30
The Final Week
The phone rang in Tommy’s office and he picked it up immediately. Everyone was on edge this week, waiting—no, praying—for one of the various lines they had floating out there to pop up with the missing answers. “Tommy Noorland here.”
“Tommy, this is Dr. Jeffreys, from the Mayo Clinic.”
“Doc, please tell me you found something.”
“Yes, finally. Sorry it took so long, but it was buried in our closed-files room. I hope it’s not too late.”
“We got a reprieve. Just for one week. So tell me, is it the same girl?”
“There’s no way I could tell you that definitively without DNA testing, but I can tell you this: Their medical records are identical. Same type of leukemia, and the medical history entered into the charts is exactly what’s in the medical history you got from Angelina Calhoun’s doctor.”
If they’d been in the same room, Tommy would have gotten down on his hands and knees and kissed the doctor’s feet. “Doc, I owe you big time. You ever need anything from me, just call and it’s yours.”
“Just let me know how it turns out, okay?
“You got it, Doc.”
Tommy walked to Dani’s office.
“You’re smiling like a Cheshire cat, Tommy.”
“I just got word from Dr. Jeffreys. The medical histories match. They’ve got to be the same girl.”
Dani leaned back in her chair and frowned.
“I thought you’d be ecstatic.”
“I am. I just don’t think it’ll be enough for the governor. They need the girl. Or woman, now, I guess.”
“The mother’s friend, Nancy—she’ll be back from her trip soon. She’s got to know where the daughter is living. After all, somebody had to contact Sunshine when her mother died, and it was probably Nancy.”
“When is she due back?’
“Tomorrow.”
“And you left a message on her voice mail to call? In case the neighbor forgets?”
“All done.”
“Then we just have to wait.”
“We’ll find her, Dani,” Tommy said,
“I hope so.”
By Friday, Tommy still hadn’t heard from Nancy. Everyone in the office was on edge. Each ring of the phone on his desk felt like a jolt of electricity to his nerves. He fumed each time it turned out to be someone other than Nancy. He was of no use to anyone, including himself, and decided to get out of the office. He’d left his cell-phone number on the message to Nancy. She could reach him wherever he went.
Before he left, he made one more call, a call he’d made every day that week. When Cannon picked up the phone, Tommy said, “Hey, it’s me again. Any news?”
“Yeah, he got back late last night. I’m going over there today to speak to him.”
“Hank, I know I sound like a broken record, but what’s the harm in getting a judge to sign a court order? If it’s not done today, then it’ll be Monday before anything happens, and that’s too late to get DNA testing done.”
“The harm is what it’ll do to that family. They’ve suffered enough without having suspicion turned on them for their daughter’s disappearance. Before that happens, I want to make damn sure there’s good reason.”
“Isn’t the fingerprint enough of a reason?”
“Look, I’ve been working with that family for eighteen years. I’m the one who cleared them as suspects. I need to look Mickey in the face and ask him about it. I’ll know whether he’s lying to me. And in my book, a partial fingerprint showing up on a piece of paper could be something or nothing at all.”
Tommy knew he wouldn’t convince him otherwise. All week he’d tried, to no avail. “Just do me a favor and call me after you speak to him, okay?”
“Sure, I’ll do you that favor. One cop to another.”
Tommy let Bruce know he’d be out for the rest of the day and took the subway up to Central Park. He entered at 59th Street and began walking north. Joggers, bicyclists and roller bladers of all sizes and ages scooted past him. The smell of summer was in the air even though it wouldn’t officially arrive for another month. The fragrance of the spring flowers mixed with the warm air. Despite the hordes of people in the park, it was a place Tommy could go to ease the tension. And he was filled with tension.
He headed along the east side of the park to The Dene, an area with rolling hills and valleys. Carolina silverbell, a white flower shaped like a bell, was in bloom. The flower always reminded him of weddings. At 76th Street he started walking to the