Born to Die - Lisa Jackson [141]
“This clinic. What was it called?”
“I don’t know. We always referred to it as the clinic. I can’t see that this matters.”
“It probably doesn’t. I just want to be sure. Can you tell me anything more about it?”
She exhaled and then inhaled and exhaled once more before saying, “This is ... I don’t know. Information you don’t need, I suppose, but all I know is the donor’s number, seven-twenty-seven. My husband and I always remembered because he was a pilot and that was the type of jet he flew when he worked for the airlines. We always thought it was lucky.”
“How did you pick the donor?”
“He was a medical student with dark hair and blue eyes. He was the same height as Keane, and he was athletic. We wanted our children to resemble us both.” Her tone said: “Is that so much to ask?”
“I understand.”
“This other woman ... the one who fell?”
Alvarez didn’t want to start answering questions since she didn’t know where they would lead. Needing to cut her off quickly, she said, “I don’t have all the background on Miss Wallis, but I know she was a teacher in Grizzly Falls and very well liked.”
“Like Elle.” She sighed. “I was a teacher, too. It’s all so hard, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am. It is.” Alvarez meant it, and the older woman heard her unspoken sympathy.
“If Elle was killed . . . if that’s true, you’ll find them and let me know?”
“Yes. I will,” Alvarez promised.
“Thank you,” she said.
Alvarez sat perfectly still for several moments after Brenda Morris hung up.
A sperm donor.
Could it be?
Were these women truly related? It was the theory that had been circling around that no one wanted to really believe. Could Elle Alexander and Shelly Bonaventure and Jocelyn Wallis and Leanna O’Halleran and maybe Kacey Lambert, and God knew how many others, actually be related ? Have the same father? That was the connection?
As fast as she could, she grabbed up her cell phone and punched the button for Pescoli, who answered on the fifth ring, sounding pissed.
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got something.”
“Uh-huh.”
“No, I’ve really got something,” Alvarez told her. “Can you get back to the station?”
“I have a lot of screaming left to do here,” she said abruptly. “A lot of screaming,” she yelled loudly to someone or someones on her end.
“Make it quick screaming,” Alvarez told her, then clicked off, her mind already spinning ahead.
Could all these women—these victims—have been conceived at the same fertility clinic? Could their mothers have all used the same sperm donor? Donor 727?
But what did that mean? Even if it was true, what did that mean? Why were they dying? Why were they being killed?
If...
If they were being killed.
But that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? There’s something here. You know there’s something here. Whether Pescoli believes you or not.
She grabbed up her phone and called the lab, annoyed when she was given the runaround. Hanging up with them, she called Ashley Tang direct and said, “I need some DNA results yesterday. Isn’t there someone at the lab you can lean on?”
The forensic investigator answered, “They’re getting to it. You know how it is.”
“I don’t care how it is! I need answers.”
“Well, I’ve got one for you. Not DNA, but an explanation of sorts.”
“Hit me.”
“The poison found in Jocelyn Wallis’s system? We believe it was administered in the coffee grounds.”
“Put there on purpose? It wasn’t something picked up by mistake, somehow.”
“Most likely it was deliberate.”
“Was it meant to kill her?”
“Doesn’t look like it. The dosage was too small at this point, but then, there might be a lot more left in the coffee. We haven’t tested it yet.”
Alvarez jumped ahead to Kacey Lambert. The microphones. Maybe Jocelyn had been bugged, too? But the killer removed them before her place was examined?
“I’m going to check some other coffee, too,” Alvarez said. “Thanks. I’ll get it to you.”
This time when she hung up, she could feel her pulse racing and her breathing was rapid. Was Dr. Lambert in a killer’s sights?
It sure felt that way.
“Pescoli. Get back here!” she said aloud.