Page 50 of So Lethal

The morning brought better news. Faith woke to the feeling of Michael shaking her awake. She frowned, but when she saw the excitement in his face, she came straight to alertness and sat up. “You have something?”

“Yep! I woke up an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I started digging into the victims’ histories again. And guess what I found?”

“A connection between all four?”

“A solid connection.”

Faith squealed and threw her arms around Michael, hugging him tightly for a moment before releasing him. “What do you have?”

“An otolaryngologist.”

“A what?”

“Otolaryngologist. An ear, nose, and throat doctor.”

“All three at once?”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you want to discuss medical specialties, or do you want the lead?”

She got to her feet and brushed hair out of her eyes. “The lead. What is it?”

“Who is it,” Michael corrected. Faith frowned, and he quickly added, “Amanda Hayes. Apparently, she’s one of the leading researchers on hearing loss treatment in the Bay Area. She has a practice in Palo Alto.” He grinned. “Guess who four of her patients were?”

Faith squealed again and gave Michael another embrace. “Hell yeah!” she cried. “Good job.”

“I’m the best,” Michael said. “Obviously, she’s not a suspect since she’s not a guy, but she can probably point us in the right direction.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Faith replied.

Turk barked, and Faith turned to see him looking quizzically at his humans, probably wondering why they were awake. Faith walked over and gave him a hug too. He endured the hug, then growled softly. Answer me!

Faith laughed and ruffled his fur. “We got a lead, buddy.” She looked at Michael. “What time does the practice open?”

“Eight A.M.”

“Perfect. Enough time for showers and breakfast. Then we head straight there. I want to be the first people through the door.”

***

Palo Alto was an affluent community northwest of San Jose in the renowned Silicon Valley region of California. The city was wealthy even compared to the other very wealthy cities of the Bay Area. The streets were all landscaped beautifully, and the buildings ranged from Spanish mission-style to ultramodern glass walls. All of them looked expensive, even the chain stores and restaurants. The cars were all late-model luxury sedans, most of them high-end even for that class.

Faith had toured Wall Street before and was awed by the wealth she saw there, but this place screamed a different kind of wealth, a casual superiority that was so far removed from the struggles of the working class that such problems wouldn’t even register. It struck her as odd that anyone privileged enough to live this life would want to risk it killing people, but then again, wealth brought power, and power made people believe they were untouchable.

Dr. Hayes’ practice was in a medical center that looked like it had been pulled off of the cover of a magazine. The circular building was designed for artistic appeal more than practicality. The windows were curved glass that reflected the sunlight almost painfully. The upper floors were terraced and lined with exotic plants that draped over the lower floors and mitigated the glare of the highly reflective windows somewhat.

The people walking into and out of the center were an odd mix of people dressed in extraordinarily expensive business suits and absurdly casual outfits. One man around Faith’s age walked in with a white t-shirt, khaki shorts, and flip-flops.

“Gotta love NorCal,” Michael said.

She was about to crack a joke, but when she saw the nostalgic smile on his face, she curtailed it. Well, everyone has reasons to love their hometown.

The receptionist’s reaction only further illustrated the difference between this place and other parts of the country. Typically, people reacted to the arrival of federal agents with wariness or fear. This receptionist—a man in his mid-twenties dressed like the maitre’d of a Michelin Star restaurant, looked them up and down and frowned with not-so-slight contempt.

He allowed the frown to remain on his face just long enough to ensure the agents saw it, then plastered a fake smile on his features. “Good morning. What can I do for you two?”

“We need to speak to Dr. Amanda Hayes,” Faith said.

“Of course. Do you have an appointment?”

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