you came to the park?”
“I don’t know Amy Ross,” he said matter-of-factly.
Josie felt a small flare of anger. She’d had just about all she could take of cryptic answers. “A seven-year-old girl is missing, Dr. Graham. Her life is in danger. I’d really appreciate it if you could cut the crap and speak frankly with me.”
He folded his hands over his stomach. “I’m well aware of what’s going on in this town.”
Josie’s phone chirped. She held up a hand, indicating for him to give her a moment. A quick glance showed a text from Trinity. She opened it.
Her name was Tessa. Renita doesn’t remember her last name. Amy met her at the laundromat. She was homeless. Dorothy let her move in. I’ll see what else I can get from Renita but she doesn’t remember much after all this time.
Josie tapped back a response.
Amy said she used to live in Buffalo?
Trinity’s reply came back instantly.
On it.
Josie set her phone on the table and turned her attention back to Dr. Graham. “Amy Ross told me that you treated her for several years.”
“I did not treat Amy Ross,” he said.
“How about if I have a look at your patient files and then we’ll talk again after that?”
His smile faltered. “You can’t do that. There are privacy laws. You can’t just—I won’t give you permission to look at them.”
“I can get a warrant,” Josie argued.
“No, I don’t think you can. I have no involvement in the case you’re working on. I never even met Lucy Ross.”
“You have no alibi for the day Lucy went missing. Someone broke into your house to call her mother and make a ransom demand. I think that’s enough of a connection.”
“I thought I was here because it wasn’t safe for me to return to my home. Are you telling me I’m a suspect now?”
“I don’t know, are you?”
“I most certainly am not,” he shot back, shifting in his chair. He leaned forward, hands on his knees.
“Tell me about Amy Ross.”
“I don’t know Amy Ross.”
Josie leaned back in her chair, staring at him. Her fingers trailed across the table until they found her phone. She picked it up and placed it into her jacket pocket. His eyes followed her movements. He opened his mouth as though to speak but then decided against it, clamping his mouth shut and looking away from her.
Josie said, “But you do know Tessa, don’t you?”
Forty-Three
Bryce Graham’s mouth hung open. Josie waited for him to speak and when he didn’t, she said, “Tell me about your patient, Tessa.”
“I can’t. The privacy laws… I—”
“You can confirm for me that she’s a patient. That doesn’t violate privacy laws,” Josie argued.
He sighed and looked away from her, lips pursed. Then he gave her a nod.
Josie leaned forward. “You’re confirming that you have a patient named Tessa?”
“Yes,” he said softly.
“Tessa what? I’m going to need a last name.”
“The trust that I have with my patients is critical to my practice, Detective Quinn.”
Josie stood up and leaned over him. “Let me say this again because apparently you didn’t hear me the first time: there is a seven-year-old girl out there in the hands of a cold-blooded killer. Every second of my time that you waste in this room is a second I could be out there trying to bring her home. Are you really going to put the privacy of one patient—of this girl’s mother—above the life of Lucy Ross?”
“My patient’s privacy has nothing to do with Lucy’s abduction,” Graham said.
Josie turned away from him. “We’re done here. I’ll get a warrant, and I will get one. I’ve got a missing girl being targeted by someone who is out to destroy her mother. Said mother has lied about her identity and failed a polygraph. Said mother has also admitted to being a patient of yours. Our investigation has revealed that her real name was Tessa, and you’ve admitted to having a patient by that first name. Given that we don’t know what else Tessa—or Amy—is hiding, a judge will rule that whatever’s in your files could be important to the investigation. You’ll be in protective custody until we’ve apprehended Lucy’s kidnapper.”
“Detective,” he called after her. “Please. If my patients think the police have gone through my files, it would greatly undermine my practice.”
Josie turned back. “Then tell me about Tessa. You tell me what you know about her and then I don’t need to search your office.”
“I didn’t know her name was Amy Ross,” he said. “She never used that name.