milkshake. Cholesterol to feed the brain. She ate it all while sitting in a corner booth, keeping an eye on the dining room. At that hour, the other patrons were mostly the post-movie crowd, teenagers on dates, and here and there a few depressed-looking bachelors. No one even seemed to notice she was there. She finished every last French fry, then left.
Before she started the car, she made a quick survey of the parking lot. No van.
At ten-fifteen, she arrived home to find that Mark was already in bed and the lights were out. She was relieved that she would not have to answer any questions. She undressed in the dark and climbed under the covers, but she didn't touch him. She was almost afraid to touch him.
When he suddenly stirred and reached out to her, she felt her whole body go rigid.
'I missed you tonight,' he murmured. He turned her face to his and gave her a long and intimate kiss. His hand slid down to her waist and caressed her hip. Stroked along her thigh. She didn't move; she felt as frozen as a mannequin, unable to respond or resist. She lay with her eyes closed, her pulse roaring in her ears, as he pulled her into his arms. As he slid inside her.
Who am I making love to? she wondered as he thrust again and again, their hips colliding with brutish force.
Then it was over, and he was sliding out of her.
'I love you,' he whispered.
It was a long time later, after he'd fallen asleep, that she whispered her answer.
'I love you too.'
At 7.40 a.m. she was back in Medical Records. Several of the desks were now occupied by physicians cleaning up paperwork before making their morning rounds. Abby requested five more charts. Quickly she took notes, gave the charts back to the clerk, and left.
She spent the morning in the medical library, looking up more articles for Dr. Wettig. It wasn't until late that afternoon that she returned to Medical Records.
She requested ten more charts.
Vivian finished off the last slice of pizza. It was her fourth slice, and where she put it all was a mystery to Abby. That elfin body consumed calories like a fat-burning furnace. Since they'd sat down in the booth at Ginelli's Abby had eaten only a few bites, and even those were an effort.
Vivian wiped her hands on a napkin. 'So Mark still doesn't know?'
'I haven't said a thing to him. I guess I'm afraid to.'
'How can you stand it? Living in the same house and not talking?'
'We talk. We just don't talk about this.' Abby touched the sheaf of notes on the table — the notes she'd been carrying around all day. She'd been careful to keep them where Mark wouldn't find them. Last night, when she'd returned home after McDonald's, she had hidden the notes under the couch. Lately it seemed she'd been hiding so many things from him, and she didn't know how long she could keep it up.
'Abby, you've got to talk to him about this eventually.'
'Not yet. Not until I know.'
'You're not afraid of Mark, are you?'
'I'm afraid he'll deny everything. And I'll have no way of knowing if he's telling the truth.' She ran her hands through her hair. 'God, it's like reality's completely shifted on me. I used to think I was standing on such solid ground. If I wanted something badly enough, I just worked like hell for it. Now I can't decide what to do, which move to make. All the things I counted on aren't there for me any more.'
'Meaning Mark.'
Wearily, Abby rubbed her face. 'Especially Mark.'
'You look awful, Abby.'
'I haven't been sleeping very well. I've got so many things to think about. Not just Mark. But also that business with Mary Allen. I keep waiting for Detective Katzka to show up on my doorstep with his handcuffs.'
'You think he suspects you?'
'I think he's too bright nor to.'
'You haven't heard anything from him. Maybe he'll let it slide. Maybe you're giving him too much credit.'
Abby thought of Bernard Katzka's calm grey eyes. And she said, 'He's a hard man to read. But I think Katzka's not only smart, he's persistent. I'm scared of him. And weirdly enough, fascinated by him too.'
Vivian sat back. 'Interesting. The prey intrigued by her hunter?' 'Sometimes I just want to call Katzka and blurt out everything. Get it all over with.' Abby dropped her head in her hands. 'I'm so tired. I wish I could run away somewhere. Sleep for a whole week.'
'Maybe you should move out of Mark's house. I've got an extra bedroom. And my grandmother's leaving.'
'I thought she was a permanent house guest.'
'She makes the rounds of all her grandkids. Right now I've got a cousin in Concord who's bracing herself for the visit.'
Abby shook her head. 'I don't know what to do. The thing is, I love Mark. I don't trust him any more, but I love him. At the same time, I know that what we're doing could ruin him.'
'It could also save his life.'
Abby looked miserably atVivian. 'I save his life. But I destroy his career. He may not thank me much for that.'
'Aaron would have thanked you. Kunstler would have. Certainly Hennessy's wife and baby would have thanked you.'
Abby said nothing.
'How certain are you that Mark's involved?'
'I'm not certain. That's what makes this so hard. Wanting to believe in him. And not having any evidence to tell me one way or the other.' She touched her notes. 'I've looked at twenty-five files so far. Some of the transplants go back to two years ago. Mark's name is on every one of them.'
'So is Archer's. And Aaron's. That doesn't tell us anything. What else have you learned?'
'All the records look pretty much the same. Nothing to distinguish one from any other.'
'OK, what about the donors?'
'That's where things get a little interesting.'Abby glanced around the restaurant. Then she leaned towards Vivian. 'Not all of the charts mention which city the donor organ comes from. But a number of them do. And there seems to be a cluster. Four of them came from Burlington, Vermont.'
'Wilcox Memorial?'
'I don't know. The hospital was never specified in the nurses' notes. But I find it interesting that a relatively small town like Burlington ends up with so many brain-dead people.'
Vivian's gaze met hers in a stunned look. 'There's something really wrong here. We were hypothesizing nothing more than a shadow referral network. Donors who are simply kept out of the registry system. But that doesn't explain a cluster of donors in one town. Unless…'
'Unless donors are being generated.'
They fell silent.
Burlington is a university town, thoughtAbby. Full of young, healthy college students. With young, healthy hearts.
'Can I have the dates on those four Buffington harvests?' said Vivian.
'I have them right here. Why?'
'I'm going to check them against the Burlington obituaries. Find out who died on those dates. Maybe we can identify the names of the four donors. And find out how they ended up brain dead.'
'Not all obits list the cause of death.'
'Then we may have to go to the death certificates. Which means a trip to Burlington for one of us. A place I've been dying to visit. Not.'Vivian's tone of voice was almost breezy. That warrior woman bravado again; she had the act down pat. But this time it wasn't enough to hide the note of apprehension.
'Are you sure you want to do this?' said Abby.
'If we don't, then Victor Voss wins. And the losers are going to be
