Page 74 of Girl Lost
Something he never could have pulled off.
They reached the last door on the right. A neat, handwritten nameplate was taped to the open door. Amanda Dunn. He tapped his knuckles against the frame before he stuck his head in.
The office was an efficient mess. Stacks of files lined one side of an L-shaped desk. A computer monitor dominated the other. Ceiling-high file cabinets lined three walls, each drawer meticulously labeled with color-coded tabs. He wouldn’t be able to function in this kind of organized chaos.
The woman standing behind the desk fanned herself with a file folder. She was in her late forties, he guessed. Short, with blond hair dyed a shocking pink on top. One side of her head was shaved, the pink hair sculpted into a wave. A rhinestone glittered in her nose piercing. Thick black glasses framed intelligent blue eyes. A small fan oscillated on her desk.
“Come in, come in! Hot flashes all day long. I swear, I’m melting. And the AC in this building is a joke.” Amanda gestured to thestacks of files on her desk. “Heaven forbid I takeonevacation day to give Mom a ride to the VA in Coco. Dermatologist appointment.” She stopped fanning and planted a fist on her hip. “Do you know how hard it is to get appointments there? Months! And of course, it had to be the week I was supposed to reorganize the entire billing system. So now...” She waved a hand. “Chaos. But anyway, what can I do for you?”
“I’m Special Agent King with the FDLE, and this is my partner, Agent Rosati. It’s about a patient.” He tried to channel Luna’s charm, the easy smile that could melt glaciers. “Trinity Brown. We’re concerned family friends. And, well, has anyone told you that you look amazing today?” He stumbled, the words tangled in his mouth. He was failing miserably.
Amanda raised an eyebrow. The corner of her lip twitched. “Family friends, huh? That’s what the last two said. And the ones before that.” She plopped down in her chair and leaned back, eyes magnified behind her thick glasses. “You law enforcement boys really need to work on your cover stories if you want medical records without a warrant.”
He felt heat creep up his neck. Busted. “Okay, you got me. We’re investigating a missing person case. We need to access Trinity Brown’s medical records.”
“No can do, Agent King. Not without a warrant,” Amanda said, shaking her head. “I’m the gatekeeper of these records. Patient confidentiality is sacred to me. I take my job very seriously.”
“Believe me, I understand.” He was so not good at this. Not like Luna. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Trinity’s a juvenile. She’s in the Warrior program—”
“Oh, that program’s amazing!” Amanda exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “A few years back ... three ... maybe four. Wait, has it really been five years? Anyway, my friend’s sister’s nephew was in trouble with the law, facing serious jail time. But then he got into that Warrior program, and it turned his whole life around. He’s gota job now, a wife ... it’s a miracle, really. He had this awful rash on his back, the poor kid, and—”
“Yeah, that same program turned my life around.” For someone so worried about confidentiality, she was sharing details about a complete stranger pretty easily.
But fine, if flattery wouldn’t work, maybe honesty would. “That’s why I’m so worried about Trinity. She’s been ditching the program, hasn’t been seen in days. And we just learned she has some serious medical problems. I just ... I need to make sure she’s okay.”
“Oh, that’s so sad,” Amanda said. “It breaks my heart to see those kids struggling. We get teenagers here all the time. Even little ones. It’s just not right. But...” Her face hardened. “My hands are tied. I can’t give you anything without a warrant or a parent or guardian’s consent.”
While Corbin spoke, Luna stood quietly beside him. She’d picked up a framed photo from Amanda’s desk and studied it. A young girl with a bright smile, holding a dog with floppy ears.
“Actually, the program has legal guardianship of Trinity,” Corbin said, hoping this would be the magic phrase.
“Oh, well that’s different.” Amanda’s eyes brightened. “Let me see the paperwork.”
Luna unfolded the document Harlee had printed, the crisp paper crackling in the quiet office. She slid it across the desk.
Amanda scanned the document, her brow furrowing. “Hmmm ... this names a Stryker King as the guardian. Any relation?”
Stryker King. His father figure. The man who’d saved him from becoming a statistic, from following in his own father’s footsteps. The man who was like a father to him in every way that mattered. They shared a last name, yes, but only because Corbin had changed his because he couldn’t bear to carry the weight of his biological father’s name, the name that reeked of violence and betrayal, for the rest of his life.
He could lie. Say yes, just to get another shot at the file. Buthe couldn’t do that. He’d rather wait for Jett and Harlee to find something. “No. We’re not related.”
“Too bad,” Amanda said. “I could probably make an exception for a close relative. You know, father, brother, sister, mother...”
Luna returned the framed photo to Amanda’s desk. Pushed one corner with a finger to straighten the position. She clasped her hands behind her back.
This was a dead end. A waste of time. “Well, thank you anyway. We really appreciate—”
“I’m her biological mother,” Luna said.
Corbin was shocked into stillness.
Luna was ... Trinity’s mother? How ... what...
March 5th. The date.
He tried to speak but couldn’t. Words wouldn’t form.
And he was pretty sure his mouth hung open.
