The woman scowled. “The doctor’s name isn’t on it?”
“No. Weird.”
“Let me see it.”
Hunter slapped at pockets she didn’t have. “Oh, I left it in my car...”
The woman sighed. “I don’t remember anyone diagnosing a blind baby.”
Another nurse walked behind the desk area, and Hunter recognized her as the older woman whose car she’d been searching. The partying wiener dogs gave her away.
“Hey, Jill, do you remember any of the doctors diagnosing a blind baby—” The administrator looked at Hunter. “Recently?”
“Couple of weeks ago?”
The woman’s scowl lowered another notch. “There’s no date on the paperwork?”
“Nope.”
“But you’ve had them for weeks?”
Hunter did her best to look shamed. “I know, it’s terrible. I had it in my car and kept forgetting to bring it up.”
The older nurse was already slowly shaking her head. “I don’t remember anything like that.”
Hunter sighed. “Alright. I’ll go get the papers. Maybe you’ll be able to figure it out from those.”
The woman behind the computer offered her a crisp nod. “I’m sure we will be.”
Hunter turned to leave, but not before she put a hand on the wiener-dog nurse’s arm. “Hey, you like mysteries, don’t you? Maybe ones with a sense of humor? You should try Amy Vansant. Really good stuff.”
The nurse’s eyes opened wider and she smiled. “Oh, yes, okay, thanks.”
Hunter left the hospital and retrieved her shorts from the planter wall. She hopped over the low, useless fence guarding the northern end of the gated parking area and returned to her own car waiting for her in a bank parking lot. She retrieved her notebook and a pen to scratch out the name of the hospital behind her.
“One down, four to go.”
Hers wasn’t the most thorough plan, but running through the pediatric units at this rate could drop them a notch on her list of possibilities pretty quickly. Maybe she’d get lucky and find a nurse who remembered the blind child.
She checked her phone and saw she had a missed call.
Who could be calling me?
Voicemail.
Spammers, probably.
She played the message expecting to hear a robocall running through its paces.
“Hey, Hunter, this is Charlotte. Just a heads up, I’m following a suspicious minivan that rolled past the Bennetts’ house. I’ll let you know when I know more.”
Charlotte.
Hm. I need to log her in as a contact so I know it’s her and not a robocall.
The girl had stationed herself outside the house as directed.
Good.
Hunter checked the tracing app on her phone. It looked as if Charlotte was parked not far from the hospital. She hadn’t returned to the Bennetts’ house fifteen minutes after leaving her the message, so she must have seen something interesting.
Maybe I’ll swing by.
Chapter Thirty-Four
When the sun finally rose, Charlotte checked her face in the rearview mirror of her Volvo.
I look like a crazy person.
Between getting up too early and not sleeping well the night before, she looked as if someone had dotted both her eyes.
It didn’t help surveillance was her least favorite part of being a detective and not the recipe for staying awake when already tired.
She closed her eyes and lowered her chin to her chest.
I’ll rest my eyes for a second...
She vowed to open her eyes on every count of ten.
…nine, ten.
She looked up. Nothing. Just like the last four hours.
…nine, ten.
Eyes harder to open that time. She looked up.
Nothing—oh, hold on...
A minivan turned on to the Bennetts’ street and Charlotte steeled herself to be bored to tears again. The false sense of excitement that bubbled every time a random vehicle appeared had worn her down.
She slouched down in her seat.
The minivan rolled down the street at a crawl, piquing Charlotte’s interest.
Why would anyone move that slowly?
Maybe the driver lived on the street and was about to pull into a driveway…
Nope. Still coming.
The vehicle rolled past the Bennetts’ house, slowing until it nearly stopped. After a weighty pause, it lurched forward and picked up speed as it departed.
The driver turned her head toward Charlotte as she passed.
Whoops.
Charlotte sat up a notch and squinted, realizing the rising sun beamed down on her face like a spotlight no matter how far she tried to fold herself into the seat.
The opposite side of the street had no parking, so the situation had left her little choice. Figures the first suspicious vehicle to go by would arrive right at seven a.m. when the sun sought her out like a laser pointer.
In the rearview, Charlotte watched the minivan roll through a stop sign at the end of the street and make a hurried left.
Headed for the bridge? Staying on the island?
She fired up the Volvo and made a U-turn to follow, careful to stay back in case the driver was on high alert for her vehicle after possibly spotting her inside.
Looking left at the stop sign, she watched the back of the minivan as it crossed to the opposite side of the main artery running parallel to the Bennetts’ street and drove toward the bridge.
Charlotte followed, slowing twice as fast as her quarry as it approached the traffic light to allow cars to file in between them. The minivan pulled into the turn lane that led toward the bridge and off the island, but missed the signal. It rolled to a halt instead of blasting through the red light, so Charlotte decided whoever was driving wasn’t in a full-blown panic anymore. The way the woman had lurched and rolled through the stop sign had caused Charlotte to expect a high speed chase.
Charlotte slowed to allow for more early-morning traffic to insert themselves between herself and the minivan in the
