Mr. And Miss Anonymous Page 6

  Lily nodded as she flexed her fingers. While she wasn’t as proficient on the computer as she knew Pete was, she knew her way around the Internet.

  An hour later Lily sat back in disgust. So much for her computer expertise. Other than the names of some of the staff, she was unable to come up with telephone numbers or addresses. She didn’t discount the fact that maybe the staff lived at the academy since it seemed to be a boarding school of sorts, and from what she’d been able to gather, the students lived there, too. She was about to get up to search for Pete when she saw him striding toward her. She threw her hands up to indicate she’d had no luck.

  “Marty’s on it. So, if you’re up to it, let’s hit the town hall and see who owns what. As in the clinic and the academy. We’ll probably come up dry, but what the hell, it beats standing around here sucking our thumbs. My notebook is on the way. One of my guys will pick it up when the flight gets in. I want to find a TV, too. You okay with this, Lily?”

  “I’m okay with it. Let’s do it.” But she wasn’t okay with it, and she knew it. She wished Winston was with her, so she could hug him, and she didn’t know why she suddenly felt the need to have someone close to her even if it was an animal.

  Thirty minutes later, Pete and Lily entered the hall of records.

  “It smells almost like the library, but I can also smell coffee brewing somewhere,” Lily said.

  She was struck again at how young everyone looked. It was obvious that those with the gray hair, glasses, and potbellies were the ones in charge. All of the others looked like part-time Berkeley students. Everyone looked harried, and the lines for assistance were out the door. Both Lily and Pete patiently waited their turn.

  Two hours later, the couple looked at one another in disgust.

  “Corporations within corporations, holding companies within holding companies,” Pete said. “Everything is over the top and out the kazoo. We need a map just to follow all the companies involved in that academy and the clinics. In the end, it will be some group of wealthy investors offshore or someone in Switzerland behind it all. It must be a bigger cash cow than I first thought.” He shrugged.

  Lily’s heart fluttered in her chest. She could tell Pete was starting to get angry. Her voice was a bare squeak when she said, “For someone to go to all that trouble… They must be hiding something, and for some reason I don’t think it’s just money. That’s my take on it anyway.”

  “I’ll put Marty on it. He’s better than a junkyard dog. The guy never gives up until he has the answer he’s looking for. If anyone can find a bona fide name or legitimate corporation, it’s Marty. I say we cruise by the clinic. We might as well get everything that we can done while we’re here. I’m all for going in and announcing myself and rattling some chains. What’s your feeling, Lily?”

  Her feeling was she wanted to run like hell. “Let’s do it, 8446!” Good Lord, how brave that sounded.

  “Oh, my God, you remembered my donor number?”

  “Yep! And mine is 1114. Do you think we might be expunged from their records by now? It was all a long time ago.”

  “Trust me, we’re in their archives somewhere,” Pete said, his voice sounding ominous.

  Yes, the big guy standing next to her was definitely getting angrier by the moment.

  Lily leaned in closer to Pete and whispered, “What about Zolly and your other security? What are they going to think?”

  Pete shrugged. “They’re paid by PAK Industries to protect me, not to think about where I go and what I do. They all signed confidentiality agreements.” He shrugged again, then laughed uproariously when he said, “By six o’clock tonight everyone at PAK Industries will know the boss went to a sperm bank with some chick.”

  In spite of herself, Lily laughed. “When we get there, what are we going to do?”

  “Be brazen as hell and go for the gusto. I know that was my kid we saw on television. And if we can find him, DNA will prove it. Just so you know, Lily, I don’t plan to hide behind anonymity. At this stage of my life, I don’t care if the world finds out I sold my sperm to get an education. That kid is what’s important. You’re a woman, so it’s different for you. You deal with children in a sense. Am I off the mark here?” he asked anxiously, his eyes sparking dangerously.

  This was her out if she wanted out. Did she? Part of her said yes, and part of her said no. She had to stop this ridiculous waffling. She squeezed Pete’s arm and smiled. “No anonymity for me either. Right now the only important thing on our agenda is the two boys.” Suddenly, Lily felt like a hundred-pound weight had been taken off her shoulders.

  They were back in the Suburban, with Winston doing his best to get between them. He was like a puppy as he vied for attention from both Pete and Lily. When he finally calmed down, Pete rattled off the address of the sperm bank. Zolly keyed it into the GPS, and they were off.

  Lily squirmed under the constraints of her seat belt. She felt so wired, she thought she would explode. They were apparently going to march into the clinic and demand answers, if she understood Pete correctly. She poked Pete on the arm, and whispered, “Do you think we might be tipping our hand by going to the clinic first? Maybe we should have gone to the academy first.”

  “I think it’s one of those either/or things. Don’t you think someone at the academy would call the clinic if they’re involved? At this point, we are just assuming the sperm bank and clinic are tied together. We’ll know soon enough once we see their reaction to our demands.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  Sensing her indecision, Winston whined. Lily stroked his big head, and he calmed down immediately.

  “Boss, it says here the address you gave me is a sperm bank. Are you sure it’s the right address?”

  “I’m sure, Zolly,” Pete said cheerily.

  Lily turned away so Zolly couldn’t see her amused smile in the rearview mirror.

  Fifteen minutes later, when Zolly pulled the Suburban to the curb, the others falling directly behind, Zolly looked into the rearview mirror. “Ah…boss, is this one of those…?”

  “Uh-huh. Stay in the car, Zolly. There’s only one way out of this place, and you’re looking right at it. Give me Winston’s lead. I’m taking him with me.”

  “Oh, jeez, boss, I thought…never mind what I thought. Winston, huh?”

  Pete couldn’t resist tormenting his protector. “No, it’s not for Winston. I’m taking him for protection. I mean it, Zolly, stay in the car.”

  A moment later, Pete, Winston, and Lily were striding up the walkway to the entrance of the sperm bank.

  Lily did her best not to look to the left, where the entrance to the egg donor clinic was. It was déjà vu all over again. She swallowed hard and was right behind Pete and Winston when they walked through the door.

  This is a mistake. This is a mistake. This is a mistake.

  “Pete,” she hissed, as he was about to walk up to the receptionist. “If we do this, our lives are never going to be the same. You know that, right?”

  Pete turned around and pierced her with his level gaze. “Yes, Lily, I know that. I have to do this. I really do. You don’t. Right now you can turn around and walk out that door. Your call.” He waited, hardly daring to breathe, for her answer. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. At the same moment, Winston tried to wiggle his way between them.

  Lily looked up to see something change in Pete’s eyes. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew right then, at that very second, that he wanted to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him.

  Winston, sensing the mood swing, slapped two big paws on the countertop. The sound was louder than a gunshot. A sharp woof, then an ominous growl drew the receptionist’s attention.

  No more waffling. Lily squeezed Pete’s hand so tight, her knuckles turned white as she stepped up to the plate and stood beside Pete when he spoke to the receptionist.

  Lily’s heart fluttered wildly when she heard what Pete was saying. “I’m Donor Number 8446, and this is Don
or Number 1114,” he said, pointing to Lily, “and we have some questions for whoever owns this joint.”

  Chapter 6

  At the sight and sound of the massive dog, the office receptionist, a thick-around-the-middle woman trying to look nineteen, screeched, “Dogs are not permitted in this clinic. Remove that animal immediately.”

  Winston whined, his huge paws still on the countertop.

  “See, now you’ve hurt his feelings. I’d like to speak to the owner of this clinic,” Pete said nonchalantly.

  “So would hundreds of other people. We deal in confidentiality, sir. Take that dog outside immediately!”

  A door opened to the right of where Pete was standing. A young man emerged, a blank look on his face. Pete swung around and eyeballed him. Even though he kept his voice low, Lily and the receptionist could hear every word he said.

  “Kid, if I ever see you here again, I’ll kick your ass all the way to the Nevada border. Now, get your butt back in that room and retrieve your donation. NOW! Here,” he said, pulling three hundred-dollar bills out of his pocket. He jammed the crumpled bills into the pocket of the young man’s IZOD T-shirt.

  “Now see here. You cannot…”

  Winston took that moment to back up to the doorway. With a running start, he cleared the counter with ease, at which point he sat back on his haunches and watched the woman whose hands were fluttering wildly.

  Pete was back at the counter. “Winston, your manners are appalling. Shake hands with the lady. Now, as I was saying, we would like to speak to your superior. Or if that’s plural, we can handle that, too. Today is not a good day to try my patience.”

  “I can’t help you. There’s no one here but the staff. All communications are done via computer, fax, or phone. I don’t even know who owns this clinic.”

  The young man in the IZOD shirt, a panicked expression on his face, raced out the door and didn’t look back.

  “Now, see here, you cannot be interfering with our business. I’m going to call the police. Right now!”

  Pete shrugged. Winston growled.

  “I’m going to need a contact number. You won’t mind if I use your computer, will you? A yes would go a long way in keeping Winston happy.”

  “Obviously, I can’t stop you, but this will all go in my report to the police. This is highly irregular. We go through channels here. We do not deviate. That’s why we’ve been in business all these years.”

  “I totally understand,” Pete said as he opened the door to enter the receptionist’s lair, Lily right behind him. Within minutes he was in another world, clicking away at the speed of light. He spoke once. “Where are the old files? Where are they archived?”

  Winston growled, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

  “I don’t know. I swear to God I don’t know. I’m allergic to dogs and dander. I’m also afraid of dogs.”

  “You should work to overcome those fears,” Lily said. “I’d also consider another line of work if I were you.”

  The receptionist gaped at her. It was Lily’s turn to shrug as Winston offered up his paw. The woman ignored it. Winston growled. He offered up his other paw.

  Lily said, “I think if I were you, I’d shake his paw.”

  Tentatively, the woman touched the big dog’s paw, then withdrew her hand as though she’d just touched a snake. Winston barked happily.

  “What you’re doing here is illegal,” the woman said. Suspicion ringing in her voice, she addressed her next comment to Pete. “Don’t I know you?”

  Pete half-turned in his chair. “I doubt it. People say that about me all the time. Now, which one of these e-mail addresses is for the person you have the most contact with?”

  The receptionist pursed her lips. “I’m not telling you anything. Furthermore, I signed a confidentiality agreement when I was hired. I have no desire to be sued. I need this job and the benefits.”

  His face buried in the computer, Pete said, “Winston, take care of it.”

  Before the woman could gasp, Winston had her arm in his mouth and was leading her toward Pete. He gently released her arm when Pete said, “Thank you, Winston.” The big dog took up his position next to the receptionist.

  Pete swiveled around and locked his gaze on the woman, whose nameplate said she was Ina Jones. “Listen to me very carefully, Ms. Jones. I want my old donor records, and so does my friend,” he said, pointing at Lily. “I never take no for an answer. Having said that, I now want to give you a heads-up on what’s going on. I’m sure you saw the news and the massacre at the boys’ school.” Pausing for a second, Pete continued by laying out for the frightened woman what he was increasingly becoming sure was correct. “Those youngsters originated in this…this place. Now, where are the old files?”

  The woman started to wail. “I told you, I don’t know. I just collect the specimens, keep the records, and create the files. And I pay the donors. That’s the total of my job description. I’m sure you’re wrong about what…what happened at that school.”

  “What do you do with the files, say, for the past month?”

  “A courier picks them up the first of every month. There weren’t many lately. Spring is always a slow time. Actually, both spring and early summer are slow.” Ina was babbling now, her face mottled with fear.

  “Do you call the courier, or does he just show up?” Pete asked.

  “He comes on the first Monday of every month. I always have the package ready for him. He signs a slip and leaves. I have no idea what he does with the files or who he gives them to. I wouldn’t …I wouldn’t work for a firm that wasn’t ethical. What you’re implying is absurd.”

  “Where are the donations?”

  “That’s none of…”

  Winston growled.

  “In the clinic. There are two nurses back there who handle the specimens. Talk to them.”

  “I will. Where is the emergency number you call if something goes awry?”

  “What…how…?”

  “Winston.” The one word was a command the shepherd acted on.

  “All right, all right.” Jones rattled off a number that Pete committed to memory.

  “Call the number now and tell that person there are two people here demanding their donor information because they say that information has something to do with the shooting at the school.”

  Ina Jones sighed as she picked up the phone.

  “Speakerphone, please,” Pete said.

  The woman pressed a button. A rich baritone invaded the room. Winston’s ears perked up as he tried to figure out where the voice was coming from.

  “This is Ina Jones at Unit Four.” Pete watched as the woman kept her eyes on Winston. “There are some…there are two people and a killer dog standing right here in the office who are asking for their donor files. He said…he said their…donations have something to do with that private school shooting. Here,” she said, thrusting the phone at Pete.

  “And you would be who?” Pete asked coldly. “Me? I’m Donor 8446. My friend is Donor 1114. The dog doesn’t have a donor number. Police? That’s probably the best idea I’ve heard all day. If you don’t call them, I will.” Pete listened, his expression stoic. He finally interrupted the rich baritone. “Scratch the police, I think the FBI would be a better bet. Yeah, well, that was then, and this is now. You led me to believe I would be helping childless couples back when I made those donations. The media said the kids gunned down at that school were orphans. Right off the bat, you people lied to me, and you probably lie to every other donor who walks through these doors. I saw my kid at that massacre, and I sure as hell am going to want a DNA sample.”

  Pete turned to Lily when the telephone unit emitted a high, keening sound. “The bastard hung up on me!” His eyes accused Ina Jones, who clasped both her hands over her heart, fear showing in her eyes.

  Lily reached down to scratch the shepherd’s head. She could feel his huge body tremble against her leg. Clearly, the dog was reacting to the stress in his
master’s voice.

  “If there’s anything you know, anything at all, this would be the time to tell us.”

  “What…what…you said just now… Is it true? Was one of those boys your son? How…how can you know that for sure?”

  “I know,” Pete said. “He’s one of the ones who got away. At least I think he got away. What if anything do you know about that private school?”

  “I don’t know anything. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This is just a run-of-the-mill job. There’s no stress, the pay is decent, and it provides good benefits. It’s an eight-to-six job, with plenty of time for me to catch up on my reading.”

  “Where does your check come from? Who pays the bills? Who signs those checks?”

  Tears were rolling down the woman’s mottled cheeks. “I don’t know who pays the bills. I assume some management company. My check and those of the staff come by UPS overnight every Friday. I hand them out. The bank is First Sovereign here in town. I can show you my check since I haven’t deposited it yet. I was going to do it yesterday, but I didn’t get to the bank on time.”

  “Let’s see the check,” Pete said.

  Ina bent down to open one of the desk drawers to get her purse. She pulled out her check and handed it over. Pete eyed the amount, then the signature, which was illegible. It didn’t matter. The bank would have the signature on file. He copied down the account number. “Nice pay for a receptionist—$980 a week clear after deductions.”

  “I’m also the office manager,” the woman said defensively.