Unintended Consequences (13 page)

Billy nodded.

Tommy thanked Cornwall before leaving the director’s office, and followed Billy as he wound his way around the corridors to the elevator. “How long have you been working here, Billy?” Tommy asked, just to make conversation.

Billy stopped to think about the question. “A long time.”

“You like it here?”

He nodded. “I like the children. I like making them laugh.”

They took the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way through another labyrinth of corridors to Room 521. “Here’s Dr. Samson’s office,” Billy said before leaving. “He’s a real nice man.”

The door was open, so Tommy knocked once to announce his arrival and stepped inside. A thin man, who looked to be in his early fifties, with sprouts of gray hair at his temples and wire-rimmed glasses over his eyes, sat behind a desk. The small office contained only a metal desk at the far end, two chairs in front of it, and file cabinets along a side wall.

“You must be Mr. Noorland,” the doctor said as he looked up from his papers.

“Please, call me Tommy.”

“How can I help you?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost sad.

It must be the worst specialty for a doctor, Tommy thought. Having to deal with children with cancer. The tragedies he saw every day had to take a toll, and the doctor’s hunched back and expressionless eyes seemed to confirm Tommy’s expectations.

“I understand you treated Angelina Calhoun,” Tommy said as he sat down and slid a signed medical release over to Dr. Samson. “It was way back in ’89, maybe ’90. I was hoping you might remember something about her condition and, well, how she did.”

“I remember Angelina very well. I treated her for leukemia.” Tommy thought he detected moisture in the corner of the doctor’s left eye. “Every child I treat here is special to me, the ones I save and the ones I lose,” he continued, his voice barely audible. “But some get to me deep inside.” He paused and shook his head. “Angelina was such a beautiful child, always smiling, always brave. All of the staff here were so taken by her. They talked about taking up a collection to help pay for her treatment, but it never would have been enough. I waived my fee, but the hospital wouldn’t. I lobbied hard for that, but they’re a business and you know how it is with businesses, always looking at the bottom line. Her parents were hard-working folks, but they didn’t have health insurance. It’s different now. The times have changed. Now, with the Cover All Kids program in Pennsylvania, they’d have been able to get health insurance for her, if not for free then for a very low cost. But back then…” He stopped speaking and stared out the window.

After a few moments, Tommy asked, “What happened to her? Did she die?”

Samson turned back to Tommy. “I’ve often wondered that myself. I assume she did. I never heard from her parents after the hospital turned her down for treatment, so I couldn’t tell you with certainty. But even with treatment…” He shook his head. “Her prognosis wasn’t good.”

“I don’t suppose you still have her medical records.”

Dr. Samson shrugged. “I’m sure I do, somewhere. I’ve moved the older files to my garage.”

“Do you think you could take a look for Angelina’s?”

The doctor nodded. “If I find them, I assume you’d like a copy?”

“You’ve read my mind.” Tommy stood up to leave. “Thanks, Doc. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Wait a moment. You can’t go off without explaining why you’re asking me these questions. Do you know something about Angelina Calhoun? Is she alive?”

Tommy sat back down. “That’s the million-dollar question, Doc. Her father is facing execution in five weeks for murdering her.”

“My God! That’s impossible. He was devoted to that child. Both her parents were.”

“Yeah, well, he says he didn’t kill Angelina. Claims he and his wife drove her to the Mayo Clinic and then left her there with all her medical records, hoping they’d treat her for the cancer.”

“I suppose that’s possible. She would have been turned over to Child Protective Services. If they couldn’t find her parents and knew of her medical condition, the state would have paid for her treatment. But—leaving a sick four-year-old alone in another state and just walking away? I can’t imagine the Calhouns doing that.”

Tommy chuckled softly. “You know, Doc, I couldn’t imagine it either. I thought he had to have made up this nutty story. And maybe he has. But he told the truth about Angelina being sick and him not being able to pay for her care. And I’ll be damned, but I’m starting to believe the crazy son of a bitch.”

As he made his way through the hospital corridors and out to the street, the doctor’s words kept running through Tommy’s head. He’d been so certain Dani had sent him off on a fool’s errand. Now, for the first time, he entertained the idea that George Calhoun might be telling the truth. There were still many unanswered questions, but foremost was the one that would be hardest to answer: Who was the little girl found buried in the woods nineteen years ago?

Tommy walked toward the sea of vehicles in the parking lot.
Now, where’s my damn car?
When driving his own car, he always found it easily: his dark-blue pearl Lincoln Navigator stood out tall and proud above the other, mostly small, gas-saving vehicles. He felt entitled to a big car; five children and a wife took up a lot of room. Now, though, he had a rental car, a silver-gray Hyundai that looked like every other car in the lot. And how the hell could he be expected to remember the license-plate number? He walked in the direction from which he remembered coming and took out the remote, pressing the emergency button. A piercing sound came from his left, and as he turned in that direction, he saw flashing headlights. “There you are,” he muttered to himself as he strode over to it. He reached for the door before noticing a white paper flapping under the windshield wiper. Expecting to see a flyer for some business, Tommy pulled it out and began to crumple it into a ball. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the red ink scrawled on the page, unfolded the sheet, and read: “IF YOU WANT TO STAY ALIVE, DON’T STICK YOUR NOSE WHERE IT DOESN’T BELONG. THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING.”

He opened his briefcase, pulled out a plastic evidence bag and, holding the tip of the paper with a tissue, carefully slipped the note inside and sealed the bag. He scanned the parking lot but didn’t see anything unusual, just rows of empty cars. He looked out to the street, and again nothing caught his attention. As he turned back around, he glanced toward the hospital entrance and caught sight of Billy leaning against a tree, a cigarette dangling from his lips, staring right at him. Tommy considered confronting him with the note but thought better of it.
He may be a man, but he has the mind of a kid.
He got into his car, but before starting it, he took out his cell phone and dialed Dani.

“What’s your pleasure? Good news first or bad?” he asked when she answered the phone.

“Take your pick. No, good news. I need to hear something positive.”

“I found the doctor who treated Angelina Calhoun. He confirms she had leukemia and her folks couldn’t afford the treatment. He says he doesn’t know what happened to her after he sent them away.” Tommy filled her in on the rest of his conversation with Dr. Samson.

“That’s great news,” Dani said. Tommy could hear the excitement in her voice. “Does he have records for us? I’ll need them for our appeal.”

“Well, it’ll take some time to find the hospital records. If they exist at all, after so many years, they’d be in deep storage. The head administrator here promised me they’d put the search on a priority status, but it could still take weeks. And then no guarantee they’ll be found. The doc has his own records, though, stashed in his garage, but again, no guarantee Angelina’s are there.”

“If that’s the bad news, I can deal with it. We’ll get an affidavit from the doctor.”

“No,” Tommy said. “The bad news is that somebody wants us to back off.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—” he looked around to make sure no one was nearby—“I mean someone is following me. And he or she isn’t happy about my being here.”

C
HAPTER

13

H
e watched as the investigator retrieved the note from the car’s windshield, saw his eyes widen as he read the words. He knew it wouldn’t scare him off, but still, it had made him feel better writing it. Made him feel in control. He knew the man was trouble. The words he spoke didn’t matter. It was about the child’s death. That’s why he had come. He knew that from the detective, his friend now, always forthcoming when he called asking about new developments in the child’s death.

The investigator scanned the parking lot before taking a briefcase from his car. He took something from the case and then the note disappeared. The man got into his car and just sat there. Had he made a mistake leaving the note? He’d always been careful, meticulous in covering his tracks. Could his fingerprints be lifted from the note? He hadn’t worn gloves, but so what? Even if the investigator took the note to the police, even if they found fingerprints, it wouldn’t lead back to him. His fingerprints weren’t in any file.

The parking lights of the investigator’s car were turned on, and the car was slowly backed out of its spot. He waited until the investigator’s car turned toward the exit before sliding into his Honda Civic. He started the motor and, keeping his distance, followed him. He stayed two cars behind, careful to avoid detection. When the investigator turned onto Highway 28, the man thought he might be headed to the airport. He dropped back behind another car; it was easier to see up ahead on the highway. Besides, he knew the exit for the airport. He could move closer to the investigator’s car when he approached the exit.

He’d been right. The investigator drove straight to the car-rental return at the airport and then boarded the shuttle bus. The man stayed behind the bus and watched for the investigator’s terminal. United Airlines. They flew all over the world. The investigator could be going anyplace, but the man supposed he was returning to New York because he knew that’s where he’d come from.

There was nothing more for him to do. He didn’t even know why he’d followed him to the airport. The investigator’s showing up at the hospital had told him everything.

C
HAPTER

14

D
ani felt both elated and confused. The missing piece was now in place, evidence that Angelina Calhoun had been gravely ill. That was the information she’d needed to confirm her belief in George’s innocence. She knew Tommy might still say that it got them only so far, that it was a leap from knowing she’d been sick to believing George and Sallie had abandoned her at a distant hospital. And sure, maybe they were both crazy and killed their daughter because of her illness. Listening to George tell his story, seeing the heartache written on his face almost twenty years later, Dani believed him. He didn’t seem crazy to her. Just sad. Overwhelmingly sad.

But the note left on Tommy’s car? She didn’t understand why anyone would try to stop their helping George. She’d have to think about it. Later, though. Now, she knew, she had her work cut out for her, trying to get a court to hear HIPP’s appeal.

She walked to Bruce’s and Melanie’s offices and filled them in on the news. “I’m going to do the brief,” she said to Melanie. “I need you to work on the record on appeal.”

Melanie looked at her soberly. “Do you really think it’s possible? That Angelina is alive?”

For a moment, Dani let her fantasies run wild and pictured Angelina Calhoun, now a grown woman, accompanying them to the Supreme Court and smiling beatifically as she told the nine justices, “Of course I’m alive, thanks to the enormous sacrifice of my parents. It’s horrible what they’ve had to endure. If only I’d known, I’d have come forward sooner.” The picture in her head faded and she answered Melanie, “Probably not. The doctor said her condition was grave. Even with the best care—I just don’t know. But if we can find someone who remembers a child with leukemia abandoned at the hospital, that would be a home run. And even though it’s twenty years later, it’s not something they’d likely forget.”

They finished their conversation and Dani settled in to work. She glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was five o’clock. Damn. She hadn’t called Katie to let her know she’d be late, and Jonah no doubt wondered where she was. At least Dani liked to think he wondered. More likely, he’d lost himself in his own world of music, playing the piano as he composed new sonatas, preparing himself for his summer at music camp. Although he hadn’t received official word on his application, the camp director had assured Dani there would be room for him.

She called Doug. “Want to stay in the city for dinner tonight?” she asked when she reached him at the law school.

“Sure. What’s the occasion?” Doug knew she usually preferred eating at home during the week.

“I thought it’d be nice for a change. Besides, I’m still here at the office. With this god-awful rain, traffic will be a mess now.”

“Well, I have about an hour’s worth of work left. Let’s meet at Cuccina’s at 6:30, okay?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

Dani hung up and called Katie to let her know about the changed plans.

“No problem, Dani. You deserve a night out. And don’t hurry home. Whenever you get back is fine with me.”

Yes, she acknowledged to herself once again, Katie was a godsend.