Free Blood of Innocence (Sloan Skye) by Tami Dane Page A

hall. “I think something’s wrong.”
    I slid off the table and rushed toward the open door. Several nurses were all dashing toward the same room, down at the end of the hall. Another shriek came from that direction.
    “Great timing,” I mumbled.
    The nurse who ushered us into the room caught sight of us and sprinted over. “I’m sorry. Dr. Rosenstein is going to be busy for a while. Is there any chance you can come back later?”
    “What’s going on?” I asked, having some notion, but knowing my assumption could be wrong.
    “A patient’s delivering.”
    I wasn’t wrong.
    JT pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to the nurse. “If you’d please let him know we’d like to talk to him as soon as possible? It’s regarding one of his patients.”
    “I’ll deliver the message.” Off she ran.
    And off we headed, to doctor number two.
     
     
    Dr. Patel’s practice was much like the first. The waiting room was packed with women sporting swollen bellies. The nurses bustled around, escorting patients to rooms, checking blood pressures and weights. Roughly twenty minutes after we arrived, a nurse called out JT’s name and asked us to follow her. As we walked past the administration area, I eyeballed the huge wall of file drawers. There were perhaps a half-dozen people working back there, several nurses and maybe three administrators. None of the faces looked familiar, not that I expected them to be. I figured it was safe to assume there was no way for the same person to work at all three offices.
    This time—thank God!—we were taken to a small office. Not an examination room. We sat in the chairs facing the desk and waited for Dr. Patel to find his way back to us.
    “I have a feeling we’re wasting time here,” I said.
    “We don’t know that yet.”
    “We can pretty much rule out the doctors—” I cut myself off as the man I presumed to be Dr. Patel came strolling in. I stood. So did JT.
    After exchanging pleasantries and introductions, we all three sat down.
    “How can I help you?” the doctor asked with a mild accent.
    “We’d like to talk to you about one of your patients,” JT explained. “Katherine Jewett.”
    His expression remained unreadable. “You realize her medical files are protected.”
    “We’re not interested in accessing any private medical information,” JT told him.
    The doctor leaned back in his chair. “Then what kind of information are you looking for?”
    “First, I’m sorry to tell you that Mrs. Jewett is dead,” JT said. “Murdered.”
    The doctor’s reaction was expected. He looked surprised and saddened. “This is very unfortunate news. Surprising too.”
    “Yes, it is.” JT gave the doctor a moment before continuing. “We’re working with local police to profile her killer. To do that, we need to gather as much information about both the killer and the victim as possible. Which leads us to why we’re here. Mrs. Jewett is the second victim in a series of recent killings. All three women were pregnant and within weeks of delivery. We’re trying to find a common thread among them. They weren’t all your patients, but I’m wondering if you employ personnel who might work in multiple locations?”
    The doctor’s eyes widened. “You think the killer may be one of my employees?”
    “Or perhaps an employee contracted by another company to provide some kind of service?” I offered.
    “Hmm. Let me think. There’s the ultrasound technician. She travels from office to office and would be the only one who might have contact with my patients. There’s also the cleaning crew—we contract an outside company for that. And some administration tasks, such as billing.”
    “That’s excellent,” JT said. “Is there any way you could provide a list of the companies you contract, along with contact information?”
    “Absolutely. Anything I can do to help. Agents, should I be warning my other patients about the danger?”
    JT leaned toward the doctor,