Free Mr. And Miss Anonymous by Fern Michaels Page A

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