Page 103 of Another Girl Lost

Dawson parked in front of the hospital and walked through the main entrance doors. Inside, he found the receptionist desk, showed his badge, and located Ms. Yeats’s floor.

“Can you ask her to come to the lobby?” he said to the receptionist.

“Sure.” She lifted the phone and quickly relayed his message.

A tall woman with mousy-brown hair pulled into a ponytail pushed through the swinging doors. She was wearing scrubs, white sneakers, and a name badge that readLynn Yeats. It struck him that she wasn’t what he’d considered Tanner’s type. Sandra and Scarlett had blond hair. Tiffany was a redhead but young, long, lean, and attractive. Maybe Lynn was the kind of woman Tanner thought he needed to cover for his secret life.

Lynn’s gaze was cautious as she looked at Dawson. When he raised his badge and introduced himself, her flat lips deepened into a frown. “Are you here about that woman?”

Dawson asked, “What woman is that?”

“I don’t know, and no one got her name. She came by the hospital and said my house flooded. I left a patient and raced home. There was nothing wrong with my house. It was all bull.”

“Not cool,” Dawson said. “Why would someone do that?” If he were Scarlett, he’d pull a similar stunt to find out where Lynn lived.

“I’ve no idea why people do what they do.”

“Having trouble with anyone? Boyfriend? Neighbor?”

“No. At least not that I’m aware.”

Dawson shook his head. “I’m not here about that. I came to ask you if you remember a Tiffany Patterson or a Sandra Taylor.”

Lynn groaned, shaking her head. “This is about Tanner, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve had nothing to do with anyone associated with him for a decade. I’ve worked hard so people forget I was the girlfriend and alleged accomplice who helped him brutalize those women. I had no idea what he was doing.”

“You’ve not spoken to Tiffany at all?” Dawson asked.

“The cops asked me about Scarlett, Della, Tiffany, and this Sandra chick, but like I told them years ago, I never met any of them except for Tiffany, briefly.”

“Did the officer show you any pictures of these women? Did he say anything about them?”

“He showed me pictures, but I didn’t know any of them.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her pale-blue smock. “The media linked me to Tanner, and that story rolled around the internet for years. Tanner did a fantastic job of screwing up my life. You know how many men want a woman who dated a guy like that?”

“I don’t know,” Dawson said.

“A lot. And they’re all weird as hell. One boyfriend wanted to simulate strangulation with me. Another asked if I liked being tied up.”

He shifted. “Must have been rough.”

“You’ve no idea. What kind of guy likes tying up a woman?”

He stilled. “Did you ever meet Scarlett Crosby?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Why would she and I meet?”

“I looked over your old interviews. Did Tanner call youScarlettonce?”

Her face reddened. “Once. He realized what he’d done immediately and apologized. Said it was a volatile ex. Said what he loved about me was that I was so normal. I was mad, but I never could stay angry at him long. The bastard was charming.”

“Scarlett Crosby never reached out to you?”

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