Page 47 of Tear Me Apart
“What can I help you with?”
“I’m sorry to bother you so early. I’m looking for information on Dr. Soledad Castillo. She was an OB there in 2000.”
“Who’s this again?”
“My name is Juliet Ryder, CBI.”
“Well, ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you this. Dr. Castillo is no longer with us.”
“Do you have any forwarding information?”
“You might try Fairmount Cemetery.”
Juliet groans. “Seriously? She’s dead?”
“Yes, ma’am. Dr. Castillo passed away...gosh, it must have been in 2000. Yes, that’s right. I remember because it was my first year here. It was a big deal at the time. She was a kind woman.”
“Tell me, are her records still in the hospital archives?”
“I’m sure they would be, but—” his voice takes on a peculiar tone. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to access them without a court order. Sorry I can’t be more help.”
“Thanks anyway.”
She hangs up and runs her fingers along her forehead, tapping against her temple to unseat the light ache that has taken hold there.
Dr. Castillo is dead. Damn. That will make things much more difficult. Exhuming a living doctor’s patient file is hard enough, but one who’s been dead for so long? The guy in HR isn’t wrong; she’ll have to get a court order, without a doubt. Even if the doctor’s files at Swedish were easily searchable, assuming Castillo was doing things off the books, as Lauren claims, then she’s out of luck, again.
Her tea is cold. She pops it into the microwave, taps her fingers along the counter ledge, thinking.
How to find a teenager who gave birth around the time of Mindy’s birthday—August 3, 2000—who doesn’t want to be found.
A teenager who was desperate to give up a baby.
She probably used a false name; she could be anyone, anywhere.
The odds of Juliet finding her are slim to none. Without DNA, that is.
Surely, though, there has to have been a lawyer involved. Lauren said she agreed not to contact the mother, ever. That the adoption was closed. The doctor couldn’t have been facilitating private adoptions without a lawyer, could she?
Oh, this is ridiculous. There is a simple way to handle this, the shortcut of all shortcuts. It is illegal, unethical, and if anyone ever finds out, she’ll absolutely lose her job, but there is a way.
Cameron said he was willing to help. He has Mindy’s DNA coded already. If Juliet asks—begs, pleads, promises her firstborn?—he can upload it into CODIS and see if there is any kind of match, familial or direct. Not to be a jerk about it, but she knows the life of a teenager who got pregnant and gave up her kid could have led somewhere dark instead of being a way out. She sees it all the time. All the time.
And if there is a match in the system, direct, or even a brother, a father, a cousin, then they’ll have that shortcut they need to get Mindy a donor.
She sits at her desk and leans back in her chair. The very idea of doing this makes Juliet sick to her stomach. She flashes back to the conversation she had with Cameron, lets his voice ring in her ears.
It goes against everything you believe in...
She could lie...
“Screw it.”
She picks up the phone and dials Cam’s lab. He answers on the first ring.
“I got permission. Run the DNA.”
“Juliet, as always, your wish is my command.”
