Page 78 of Water's Edge

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m a virile specimen of a man.”

They both laugh. I let them have their fun. To be in law enforcement, you can’t be offended by every remark or look. It comes with the territory.

“We need to look at some records, Jimmy.” Clay becomes the serious, no-nonsense Clay again. “Think you can pull up some past patient records for us?”

Jimmy leads us a few feet further away from the receptionist. “Confidential stuff. I like it.” He takes out a notebook. “Give me the names and dates of birth.”

I use his notebook and pen and write down all three victims’ information from memory. He and Clay exchange a look and Jimmy grins.

“Clay said you were sharp, Megan. Maybe some of those smarts will rub off on his ignorant ass.”

Clay stays silent. He’s in total Clay mode now. It’s good to see he can be both serious and funny. Comes in handy when you’re trying to obtain illicit confidential information that you would otherwise need a court order or a warrant to get. I came prepared to lie and/or promise a fake document. This is so much simpler.

“This will take a few minutes,” Jimmy says. “The crap-a-teria, and I do mean crap, is down the hall to your left. They have decent coffee and Krispy Kreme donuts, and by the look of you two you’re in serious withdrawal.”

How can I say no?

Clay and I head down the hall.

“I apologize for Jimmy,” he says.

“Nothing to apologize for. He’s doing a lot for us. I hope he doesn’t get in trouble with the hospital administration.” I really don’t give a crap. I just want the information without going through a lot of paperwork and maybe ending up getting permission denied.

I looked around the front lobby when we came in and saw no less than three surveillance cameras. Going down the hall now, I turn around and see the cameras could cover the hallway. There are two more here. One in each corner of the cafeteria. Another is behind the counter, pointed at the cash register.

There should be a sign on the register:Trust no one.

And an all-seeing eye.

“There’s a lot of surveillance cameras,” I say as we get our coffee and donuts. “Maybe Jimmy can get us video footage?”

Clay looks somewhat skeptical. Maybe he doesn’t want Jimmy to take that kind of risk. Maybe I’ll have to find a way to hack into their system. I’ve done it before—not here, and not for a few years, but I’m pretty sure I can figure it out. If not, I can schmooze someone else at the hospital.

“Forget I asked, Clay. Probably nothing anyway. I’m just crossingi’s and dottingt’s.”

He chuckles at my little joke that was meant to cover a lie. I am getting better at hiding my true thoughts from him because he nods.

“I admire that about you.” He takes a bite of a donut and talks with his mouth full. I think he looks disgusting, but I don’t say it. I don’t show it. “You don’t give up. You’re like a hound on a scent.”

I sip at the coffee while he goes on.

“What do you smell here? What do you expect to find with these records?”

I tell him I’m trying to establish that the victims may have crossed paths. That maybe they had the same doctor. Came to the same hospital.

“Anything that would give us a pattern.”

I don’t tell him I’m doubly interested in the birth certificates. I don’t tell him that I know for a fact that my own birth certificate didn’t have a father’s name or my own name on it. My mother had thoughts of giving me away.Like Dina did.Maybe like Margie would have done. Neither Larry nor Clay have dug that deep. On my birth certificate I was just Infant, another fatherless child. I wanted to see the birth certificates of Leann’s and Dina’s babies.

I tell him I want to see the exact dates and times of the births. I want to get the names of the doctors that attended and maybe I will find the nurses that were on duty. Someone has to have seen something. If not, I will have at least tried. Clay seems like a seasoned investigator, but it looks like a lot of Dina’s investigation fell through the cracks. And Larry… Larry hasn’t missed a meal on Margie’s behalf. I feel like both victims were deemed losers. They were promiscuous. They were single mothers. So what? Why were they less deserving of a full-on investigation?

My mother and several other sixteen-year-olds were victims. She had lied about being kidnapped before the real thing happened. According to my aunt Ginger, Mom had run off to spend time with a boy. Then she got kidnapped for real, tied up and raped. When she tried to tell the police, they demeaned and then ignored her claim. Even her own parents dismissed her story. A cloud of disbelief and suspicion followed her and made her the perfect target for Rader.

The same seemed to be true for Dina Knowles and Margie Benton. They were dead. They had no one to speak up for them. They couldn’t tell their side of the story. That’s why I’m here.

It’s taking Jimmy longer than expected to access the records. I hope he didn’t have to get permission. Or maybe the receptionist hindered him?

In the past, I might have come up with a way to get what I wanted without anyone knowing. But I know someone who can make this easy. I excuse myself, go to the bathroom, and call Sheriff Gray. I ask him to get a court order from his judge friend.

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