The Stolen - Jason Pinter [54]
The woman rolled her eyes at me, said, "Suit yourself,"
and took the papers. When I returned to Amanda, she was
buried in a copy of Parenting magazine.
"Wow," Amanda said, eyebrows raised. "Did you know
that the World Health Organization recommends breastfeeding your child until they're at least two years old, and
sometimes until they're four?"
"Why not?" I said. "Nothing brings a mother and her
child closer than reading, writing and breast-feeding."
Amanda snorted a laugh, causing the other mothers to
sneer at her in unison. She went back to reading the
magazine. I did a cursory search through the reading
material available. Since I had no aching desire to sift
through a Learning Annex pamphlet or a four-month-old
issue of Cosmopolitan, I just sat there and waited.
Finally after a two-hour wait, the receptionist called,
"Mr. and Mrs. Parker."
I looked at Amanda, her face suddenly nervous. We
stood up and followed the receptionist down a woodpaneled hallway into an examination room.
"Dr. Petrovsky will be with you in just a moment."
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Jason Pinter
When she left, I turned to Amanda and said, "Here
we go."
"You really think this guy knows anything about Danny
and Michelle?"
"That's why we're here," I said. "I just want something
to prove to Wallace this story deserves looking into, regardless of what some stuffed shirt says."
We sat there waiting for fifteen minutes. I looked around
the room. Nothing out of place, and because we were in a
simple examining room rather than Petrovsky's office, it
prevented me from snooping around his framed degrees.
Then the door opened, and a fifty-something barrelchested man walked in. He was about five-ten with a thick
gray beard and a white coat that barely concealed his protruding midsection. Beneath the beard his cheeks were
slightly red. He walked with a slight limp. I guessed he'd
undergone a hip or knee replacement surgery recently.
"Mr. and Mrs. Parker, I am Dr. Dmitri Petrovsky." He
spoke with a thick Russian accent. I took his extended
hand, as did Amanda.
"Thanks for seeing us on such short notice," I said.
"It is my pleasure. Now, if you will do me one more,
please, have a seat." Amanda sat down on a small metal
chair. Petrovsky laughed. "No, not there. Here."
Petrovsky approached the examining table. He reached
underneath, fiddled around for a few seconds, and then
pulled up a pair up stirrups which he latched into place.
He then slapped the green cushion and said, "Mrs. Parker,
if you please."
He put his palms together and then opened them as if
he were reading a book.
Amanda's eyes went wide. "Oh, hell no. Henry, this is
where I get off the train. Good luck."
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155
"Mrs. Parker?" Petrovsky said. He turned to me. "I do
not understand. This is a routine part of a first examination."
Time to come clean. Or at least cleaner.
"Dr. Petrovsky, my name is Henry Parker, and I'm a
reporter with the New York Gazette. Now, first off, I want
you to know that I'm here in the best interests of two
children. All I want to do is ask you a few questions. We
don't want to make any trouble, I promise. And I would
appreciate your complete candor. It's vital in our investigation."
"Investigation?" Petrovsky's eyes were frightened,
but I couldn't tell if it was from the surprise or something
else. "Please, I do not understand. You lied to Maggie at
reception?"
"Not exactly, Doctor. I just needed to speak with you. If
after we talk you think my motives aren't genuine, you can
do what you want. But please, just hear me out. I mean well."
Petrovsky folded his arms. I took that to mean he was
listening.
"I'm investigating the disappearance of Daniel Linwood,"
I said. "The records show that Daniel Linwood was born in
this hospital, and that you were the attending during the
birth. In conjunction with Daniel Linwood, we're investigating a similar disappearance, a girl named Michelle Oliveira.
Michelle also was born here, under your supervision.
"Daniel Linwood," Petrovsky said, his eyes yielding