Free Mr. And Miss Anonymous by Fern Michaels Page B

pay for a receptionist—$980 a week clear after deductions.”
    “I’m also the office manager,” the woman said defensively.
    “You pay the donors in cash. Where does that money come from?”
    “It…it’s in a separate envelope with the payroll checks. I get cash twice a month. I have to keep meticulous records. We don’t have a petty cash drawer. If I need to buy a lightbulb or something, I have to use my own money, get a receipt, and I’m reimbursed with my check.”
    “How many people work here?”
    “Right now, two nurses. In the fall and winter, when we’re really busy, it can be as many as three doctors and four or five nurses. Six-hour shifts. None of them are friendly.”
    Lily decided it was time to weigh in. “What do you know about the fertility clinic?”
    “Absolutely nothing. I’m not lying,” Jones said at Lily’s skeptical expression. “The fertility clinic is totally separate from the sperm bank. There’s a full staff over there, and the only reason I know that is I see them coming and going. They never come in here, and I’ve never been over there. That is the God’s honest truth. I don’t believe this is happening,” Ina wailed dramatically.
    “You’ve been here eight years, you said. During that time do you remember anyone coming here who might be involved in the company? Think carefully. Did you ever hear the doctors or nurses say anything that might help us?”
    “No. Never. This is really a boring job. It’s the same thing every single day. The routine never changes. Like I said, fall and winter are busy, with more donors coming through the doors.”
    “Where are the personnel files?” Lily asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    Pete knew there was nothing more to gain from interrogating Ina Jones. He picked up the CD he’d copied and stood up. “Thank you for your help, Ms. Jones. You can call the police now if you want to. I’d call that number I just called before you do that, though.”
    Ina Jones started to cry. She was dabbing at her eyes when the phone rang. The trio looked at one another. “Answer it and use the speaker button,” Pete said.
    “Berkeley Sperm Bank,” Ina said in a jittery voice.
    The rich baritone snarled a greeting. “Are those people gone? What did you tell those people?”
    Ina closed her eyes. “They’re gone, and I didn’t tell them anything because I don’t know anything. I told you, they had a killer dog with them. They copied everything that was on the computer. I quit. I’m leaving right now.”
    “You will do no such thing. Do you hear me?”
    Pete’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline at the threatening tone he heard coming from the speakerphone. To his and Ina’s surprise, Winston licked her hand.
    “I guess you didn’t hear me. I said I quit. I’m going to lock the door, leave my key in the mailbox, and go, depart, vamoose. I will also turn out the lights. Good-bye, whoever you are.”
    The phone rang almost immediately the moment the connection was broken. Ina ignored it as she set about turning out lights and gathering up her purse and other belongings.
    Ina ran her fingers through her hair as she turned off the computer and straightened the calendar blotter to the middle of the desk. She looked Pete in the eye, and said, “I’m going to cash my check before they stop payment on it. Please, follow me out.” Pete and Lily had no other choice but to trail behind her. Winston followed, his eyes alert.
    Ina was at her car, a maroon Honda Accord, when she turned to Pete. “I really hope you’re wrong about all this. I’m going to have a very hard time of it if I find out you’re right and I was even an unknowing part of this. I wish I wasn’t afraid of dogs. Winston seems like a nice one.”
    Winston barked happily at the mention of his name.
    The engine running, the window rolled down, Ina had one more thing to say. “I know I know you from somewhere. I never forget a face. It will come to me,” she muttered to herself