Page 10 of Her Last Warning
"Or both," Novak suggested, his attention caught by a framed photograph of what appeared to be Yorke receiving some kind of medical award."Sometimes a wake-up call like that can make or break a career."
The door opened before Rachel could respond.Dr.Brian Yorke entered with the confident stride of a man comfortable in his domain.He was younger than Rachel had expected, perhaps early forties, with prematurely silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses that gave him a scholarly air.His white coat was crisp, but his sleeves were rolled up, suggesting a man who balanced professionalism with practicality.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting," he said, settling behind his desk.His tone was perfectly pleasant, betraying no anxiety at finding FBI agents in his office."I do have to say, though, that it’s not every day that I have federal agents come by for a visit.What can I do for you?"
Rachel met his steady gaze."We’re currently working a case that involves the death of one of your recent patients.Robert Hayes."
The change was instant.Color drained from Yorke's face, his professional demeanor cracking."My God.How?"
"Murdered," Novak said bluntly."In his home.Four days later, the same thing happened to a woman named Marcy Connors.The only connection we've found is that both had recently received unexpectedly positive medical news.What Millie Hayes, Robert’s wife, was referring to as a miraculous recovery."
Yorke's hand trembled slightly as he reached for his Gandalf bobblehead, seemingly seeking comfort in its familiar weight."Robert was...his recovery was remarkable.Unprecedented, really.I'd never seen anything like it.The kind of improvement he showed...it just doesn't happen.Not with that condition.Not that quickly."
"We understand you were quite vocal about doubting his initial positive diagnosis," Rachel said."That you refused to assist with the book he was writing.We'd like to know why."
Yorke was silent for a long moment, his fingers still worrying at the bobblehead.Finally, he set it down with deliberate care."I made a mistake," he said quietly."Not a medical one—at least, not this time.But I let my...personal issues...cloud my judgment."
He stood, pacing to the whimsical bookshelf.He let out a deep sigh and said: "You have to understand.After those allegations years ago, I became perhaps overly cautious.When Hayes first showed signs of improvement, I couldn't believe it.Wouldn't believe it.The type of heart condition he had...spontaneous improvement just doesn't happen.Or so I thought."
"And the book?"Novak prompted.
"That's...complicated."Yorke turned back to face them, leaning against the wall near the movie poster."I'm part of a research group, you see.Led by Dr.Katherine Walsh.We've been documenting medical anomalies for the past year.Cases that defy conventional explanation.I was worried that being associated with Hayes's book might compromise the scientific integrity of our work."
Rachel leaned forward."These anomalies—you're talking about miracle recoveries?"
"Yes, but I am very careful not to use the word 'miracles,'" Yorke said quickly, pushing off from the wall to pace the length of his office."From time to time, doctors do see things that defy logic and can't be explained, but...you understand that the word 'miracle' could be damning to a doctor, right?We need to maintain scientific credibility, especially with cases like these."
"What sort of things are you talking about?"Novak asked."Are they all like Hayes?"
"Some are even more remarkable."Yorke's eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm, his earlier nervousness temporarily forgotten."Just last month, we documented a case in Salt Lake City—a woman with advanced multiple sclerosis.Complete neural degradation, wheelchair-bound, cognitive decline.Her family had already begun making arrangements for long-term care.Then one morning, she simply...got up and walked.All symptoms gone, as if they'd never existed.Our tests showed complete neural regeneration, something that's supposed to be impossible."
He moved to his bookshelf, pulling out a thick folder, its edges worn from frequent handling."And there was a case in Miami—a six-year-old boy with an inoperable brain tumor.The size of a golf ball, pressing against his brain stem.”Rachel felt a sting of tears touch her eyes right away and did her best to push them away.She could not get emotional at a time like this.“The family had already begun palliative care, were making their final memories together,” Yorke went on.“During a routine scan, the tumor was just...gone.No trace of it had ever existed.No scar tissue, no evidence of surgical intervention.Simply vanished."
His voice took on an almost reverent quality."We've documented dozens of cases like these.People walking away from conditions that should have been terminal.Diseases vanishing without treatment.The human body doing things that medical science says are impossible.And we’re trying to understand it.Trying to make the impossible make at least some sort of sense."
Rachel watched him carefully, noting the way his hands moved as he spoke, the passion evident in his voice."These cases sound remarkable,” she said.“But I have to ask—how many of these 'anomalies' turn out to be misdiagnoses that doctors want to quickly categorize as unexplainable?Has Dr.Walsh ever had such a case?"
The change in Yorke was immediate and dramatic.He shoved the folder back onto the shelf with enough force to make the Enterprise model sway on its string, its shadows dancing erratically across the wall."I'm sorry, but...this conversation is over for right now."He nodded toward the door, his earlier enthusiasm replaced by barely concealed anxiety.His hand shook slightly as he adjusted his glasses.
Rachel saw Novak tense, ready to press further, but she touched his arm lightly and shook her head.Whatever they'd stumbled onto, this wasn't the moment to push.Besides…they now had.Name to pursue a bit further up the chain: Dr.Katherine Walsh.
“Thank you, Dr.Yorke,” Rachel said.“We’ll leave you to your work now.”
He nodded briskly as she and Novak left his office.As soon as they’d stepped away from his door, Novak looked over to Rachel and said, “So, you think it’s a dead end?”
"I don't know yet.But he did give us name a bit higher on the ladder than he is.I'd like to talk to Dr.Walsh…see if she can maybe point us toward some people who might feel threatened by these miraculous recoveries."
"You think he's hiding something?"Novak asked as they stepped into the elevator.
Rachel looked back down the hallway and caught a final glimpse of Yorke’s door—now closed."I don’t think so.A man who worked so hard to rebuild his reputation…to murder people wouldn’t make sense.”
As they waited for the elevator, something in her gut told her that Dr.Walsh's research might be more significant to their case than Yorke's nervous reaction suggested.She'd seen enough miracles—and enough tragedies—in her own medical journey to know that the line between unexplainable recovery and false hope was often razor-thin.
And she knew the devastation and loss of family members who stood on it for so long, only to fall off.
CHAPTER NINE
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the dashboard as Rachel slid into the passenger seat of the car.Her fingers moved automatically to the search bar where she typed in an address for Dr.Katherine Walsh.She then plugged in the address of her place of business, a private office from the looks of it, into the maps app on her phone.It was located in Glen Allen, just a thirty-minute drive, assuming traffic cooperated – which, given the time of day and the rush hour and sea of brake lights surely waiting for them on I-95, seemed increasingly unlikely.
