“Rosalyn Lee. She said you knew her sister. Maybe you should meet with her, she looks pretty distraught.”
Malik shrugged. “All right.” He followed Victoria to the door. Tank stood and trailed behind him, but Malik snapped his finger and pointed to the padding in the corner on the other side of his desk. “Stay.”
“Ms. Lee? I’m Malik Lewis,” he said, stepping outside his office. He assessed the short, middle-age woman who reared her head back to look up at him. He stood six-foot-eight and people were often caught off-guard when meeting him for the first time. She pushed her red-rimmed glasses up on her nose and extended her hand.
“Hi Mr. Lewis, I’m sorry to stop by without calling first, but I really needed to speak with you.” Her voice was raspy, as if she’d been crying.
“Sure, come on in.” Malik tilted his head toward his office. “I have a few minutes before I need to leave.” He followed behind her, taking in her attire. Considering she was probably in her early forties, she dressed as if she were much older. Her long, straight gray skirt that stopped mid-calf appeared to be two sizes too big, and the black, thread-bare sweater looked as if it had seen better days.
“Why don’t you have a seat on the sofa,” he said and closed the door. “What can I do for you, Ms. Lee?” He sat down in a paisley upholstered chair across from her.
Rosalyn ran thin fingers through her thick black curls before dropping her hands to her lap, toying with the hem of her sweater.
“Mr. Lewis, I’ve been on a mission’s trip for the past eight months, returning a couple of weeks ago. I found out my sister, Susan, died five months ago … during child birth.” She sniffled, swiping at her sudden tears. “I didn’t know,” she sobbed. “She was all alone. Besides some very distant cousins, we don’t have any other family.”
Malik stood, grabbed a box of Kleenex, and handed it to her. A flicker of anxiousness curled in his gut. He didn’t do well with women crying.
Upon closer perusal, he had to admit that there was something familiar about this woman. Susan, Susan, he tossed the name around in his head, trying to connect the name of Rosalyn’s sister with a face. Oh crap! He suddenly knew whom she was referring to. Sue died during child birth? He hadn’t seen her in well over a year and even then they had only hooked up on occasion.
“Ms. Lee, I’m sorry to hear about your sister, but—”
“Please, call me Rosalyn.” She wiped her face and crumbled the tissue in her hands. “I’m sorry. Of course you’re probably wondering what this has to do with you.”
The thought had crossed my mind.
“When I returned and found out my sister had passed away, I obtained her death certificate. This past week, while going through her things, I ran across one of her journals. Inside, she mentioned her pregnancy.” Rosalyn wiped at her eyes again. “Mind you, I didn’t even know she was pregnant. After more digging, I went in search of a fetus death certificate for the baby, but came up empty handed.” She stopped and stared at Malik expectantly.
He tilted his head, wondering why she stopped. “Go on.”
“I’m told that the baby didn’t die, but was taken into foster care. When I contacted the state, they have no record of the child.”
Malik shrugged, totally not understanding what this had to do with him. “I’m sorry, Ms. Le— I mean Rosalyn, but missing persons is not my expertise. I can give you the name and contact information of a good P.I.,” Wiz immediately came to mind, “but there’s nothing I can do for you.”
She straightened and cocked her head, her gaze studying him intently. “What if I told you the baby was yours?”
“I think Dr. Halsey is killing new mothers.”
Hospital Chief of Staff, Natasha Lockham, glanced up from the document she was reading and stared at her head nurse. There was no way Natasha heard her correctly. Apparently, her migraine was affecting her hearing.
“Layla, I think I misunderstood you.” Natasha closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, praying the throbbing in her head would cease. Especially since she needed to ensure the document in front of her was perfect for the finance department. “I thought I heard you say that Bob was killing women.”
Silence filled the office space and Natasha slowly opened her eyes and lifted her head. Unspoken agony was evident and glowing in Layla’s light-brown eyes. Oh God. Dread spread through Natasha’s body like a California wild fire, scorching every nerve ending along the way. The youngest chief of staff in the hospital’s history, Natasha had been in her new position for six months and felt like a firefighter at times. She put out more fires than she cared to admit.
She gripped the edge of her mahogany desk, using it as a brace to keep herself steady as she slowly pulled herself into a standing position. Feeling like crap for the majority of the day, she really should have left and gone home hours ago. Now she wished she had.
Natasha and Layla had been friends for years. Layla was by far one of the most skilled nurses she had ever worked with, so there was no way her friend would come to her with an accusation without just cause.
“I assume your comment is based on fact.” Natasha leaned forward, palms down on her desk. “Because I don’t have to tell you … that’s a serious charge.” Her voice trailed off. She prayed that Layla would tell her that she had misunderstood, but she remained silent.
Layla glimpsed back to ensure the door was closed and then stepped closer. “You know I wouldn’t come to you with something this serious without a good reason.” The quiver in her voice matched the erratic rhythm of Natasha’s heartbeat.
“Risk management hasn’t said anything to me,” Natasha said, her voice just as low as Layla’s, despite the closed door. The fact that her admin assistant had already left for the day, and none of the other offices were near hers, didn’t make her feel any more comfortable discussing this particular topic. “Surely if risk management suspected anything they would have started a root cause analysis of questionable deaths.”
Layla ran her hands down her face and released a ragged breath. “Tasha, risk management might not know. I don’t know if anyone knows. You’re the first person I’ve mentioned this to.”
Seconds ticked by. They stared at each other, neither saying a word. Natasha could hear her father’s words ring in her head. Don’t ask a question unless you’re prepared for the answer. Though she would hate the response to any questions asked, there was no way she could ignore this damaging allegation.
“Maybe you need to start at the beginning.” Natasha reclaimed her seat, staggering a bit in the process from the pressure in her skull and now the anxious butterflies knocking around in her stomach. She pointed to the upholstered chair in front of her desk. “Sit. Tell me what happened?”
“There’s a baby missing.”
Chapter Two
Natasha sat in her office, the overhead lights dimmed and her desk lamp providing a sliver of illumination. Why would five of Dr. Halsey’s patients die after giving birth? She rested her head against her forearms on top of the desk, the constant throbbing and light-headedness taking its toll. She had temporarily forgotten how bad her migraines could get. The afternoon conference calls and the conversation with Layla hadn’t helped.
Natasha couldn’t wrap her brain around Layla’s suspicions of Dr. Halsey, a well-respected doctor, not just in Illinois, but also in New York and Texas where he’d worked years earlier. Why would he intentionally take the lives of his patients? None of the women had preexisting conditions.
Natasha slowly lifted her head and opened her eyes, glad the nausea had passed. Standing, she gathered her purse, briefcase, and jacket. She had contacted risk management and filled them in on her conversation with Layla. The fact that five of Dr. Halsey’s patients died within the last two months from pregnancy related complications was enough to raise concern. Layla didn’t have solid proof of any wrong doing. The baby boy she thought was missing had been officially signed out. However, the relationship of the person who he was released to
wasn’t clear.
Thankfully, today was Dr. Halsey’s last day of work before he left for a two-week vacation to Acapulco. That would give Natasha enough time to do some digging of her own.
She clicked off the desk lamp and eased toward the door, having second thoughts on whether or not she was in any shape to drive. After doing a mental catalog of everything she’d eaten that day, she hadn’t come up with anything that might have triggered the ache in her head. All she knew was that she couldn’t wait to get home and take something.
Her cell phone rang.
That was all she needed—an excuse to sit back down and close her eyes for a minute before leaving.
“Hello,” she answered, her voice barely a whisper. She sat on the sofa in the far corner of the office, placing her bags and coat down next to her.
“Tasha, what’s wrong?” her ex-husband, Martin Lockham, asked, concern evident in his voice. “You don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”
Divorced for nearly ten years, she and Martin were still good friends. They had first met in grade school and started dating in high school, only to marry during her residency. Turns out it wasn’t the best decision, considering they were divorced a year later. Her eighteen hour workdays, and the desire to be the best surgeon ever, didn’t help in nurturing her marriage. It also didn’t help that Martin had cheated on her.
“Hey Marty. I’m all right, just suffering from a migraine.” She leaned back against the sofa and rested her head, her eyes still closed. She fiddled with the diamond charm hanging from a platinum chain around her neck. It was the last gift from her father before he was killed during his combat tour in Kuwait. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your phone call?”
“Sorry to hear about the migraine. I know how debilitating they can be. Well, I’m not going to hold you long. I don’t know if you remember, but this Saturday would’ve been our tenth year anniversary.”
Natasha had remembered, though the thought fleeting.
“I called to invite you to dinner. Maybe we can also go dancing or to a show afterwards.”
She would always love Martin, but she wasn’t in love with him and wondered if she had ever been truly in love. Since their divorce, birthday presents from him arrived every year, and he invited her to dinner on their would-be wedding anniversary. Her family and friends couldn’t understand how she could forgive him for cheating on her, but they didn’t understand the friendship they’d established well before saying ‘I do’. Besides, he claimed loneliness from her absence for his reason for cheating. Although it was no excuse, she understood. Things were different now. For the first time since their divorce, she wanted more.
Thoughts of Malik Lewis and their one night of incredible sex came to mind. Her cheeks heated reliving the number of times he’d made her come. Until that evening, she had no idea she was capable of such passion and wanton behavior. The icing on the cake was when he cooked for her the next morning … well, technically that next afternoon. She hated cooking. To have a man whip up a brunch with little or no effort had earned him huge points.
“Tasha?”
Her eyes flew open and she bolted upright, only to groan and grab her head when the room started spinning. Pushing her long tresses away from her face, she fought to keep the bile that rose to her throat down and steadied herself.
“Tasha, where are you?” Martin’s anxious voice rang out. “Are you still at the hospital? Do you need me to come and get you?”
“No, no I’m fine. I moved a little too quick is all. I’m still at the hospital, but I’ll be heading out soon.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive. If your migraine is as bad as the ones you used to have, then I think you should stay put. I’ll pick you up.”
“No. That’s not necessary.” Sometime she hated that she wasn’t in love with Martin. The short time they were married, he was a good husband. Until he cheated. Now, as good friends, they talked at least a couple of times a week and for the most part, she enjoyed spending time with him. Then why am I trying to think of an excuse so that I don’t have to go out with him Saturday night?
Natasha stood and began gathering her things again. She knew why she didn’t want to go out with him. She wanted more. At thirty-five, it was way past time that she started thinking about remarrying and having a family. With no prospects, if her Mr. Right didn’t come along soon, she would miss her window of opportunity to have a couple of kids before she was too old.
“Marty, I’m getting ready to leave.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to pick you up?”
“I’m sure, but thanks. As for Saturday, I think I already have something planned. Let me double check and get back to you.”
After a slight hesitation he spoke. “All right. Well, let me know. And I’ll check on you this evening to make sure you made it home okay.”
There is no getting rid of him. “Okay.”
Natasha left the wing of the hospital where most of the offices were located, finally making it to the lower level that would lead to the parking lot. She blinked several times to focus, the pressure behind her eyes causing blurriness.
Maybe driving isn’t such a good idea.
She switched her Michael Kors bag to her opposite shoulder and headed for the doors that would lead her out of the hospital personnel only area. Apprehension swept through her and she stifled a groan as the busy sounds of the hospital grew louder the closer she got to the main area. The evenings were the most hectic and she really didn’t feel like dealing with crowds, but she needed to stop by the nurses station before heading out.
A wave of dizziness assaulted Natasha. She reached for one of the double door handles and the door flew open.
“Whoa!” A tall man grabbed her by the elbow, keeping her from falling into a heap on the floor. “Are you okay?” He led her to a bank of chairs and helped her sit down. “Should I get a nurse or a doctor for you?”
The stranger’s heady scent—a mixture of sandalwood and leather—was the first thing that caught Natasha’s attention, but it was his deep, sexy voice that caused her to look up at his face. The constant pounding in her head and her unfocused sight didn’t detract from his handsomeness.
When he cracked a smile, revealing perfectly straight teeth, she realized she’d been staring. “Lo siento. Muchas Gracias.” She adjusted her handbag and briefcase, planning to stand, but wobbled on the way up.
He smiled. “I see you speak Spanish.” He extended his hand and pulled her up.
She frowned. “Huh?”
“Spanish. You said I’m sorry and thank you in Spanish.”
Natasha didn’t know what she said. All she knew is that she needed to lie down before she passed out. “My father was Hispanic.” She cast a glance at him again, feeling more comfortable than she should considering he was a stranger. “Every now and then Spanish slips out. What about you? I take it you speak the language.”
He shrugged. “I have some Mexican friends. I’ve picked up a few words here and there.”
Natasha swayed again and he grabbed her around the waist. “Maybe you should sit for a moment. You don’t seem too steady on your feet. Are you sure I can’t get someone from the hospital staff, Ms. …”
“Natasha. Natasha Lockham.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ray Newton.”
Malik hadn’t planned on stopping by the hospital to see Natasha, but after his visit from Rosalyn, he had an excuse. There was no way he was the father of Susan’s baby. The timing might have said otherwise, but he believed in practicing safe sex. There were no slip-ups. Besides, he knew they weren’t exclusive. The only reason he was still thinking about the conversation was that he had promised Rosalyn that he would look into the situation. Maybe Natasha could give him more information regarding Susan’s death and the whereabouts of her baby. Assuming there was a baby.
“May I help you?” the receptionist asked when he approached the hospital’s help desk. She looked up at him in sile
nt awe, which happened a lot because of his height.
“I hope so. I’d like to speak with Dr. Natasha Lockham. Do you know if she’s here?”
“I can check for you. Your name?”
“Malik Lewis.”
While she dialed the number, Malik glanced around the sitting area. A doctor approached the waiting room and a group of family members leapt from their seats and surrounded him, tossing out questions faster than the doctor could answer. When one of the women burst into tears, Malik knew he had seen enough. He turned back to the receptionist, but his attention diverted to the nurse standing near the copy machine, who openly stared at him as if she knew him.
He might forget a name, but rarely did he forget a face, and she didn’t look familiar. Shorter than the average woman, her heart-shaped face displayed very little makeup, except for her cherry-colored lips. Her light-brown eyes held his attention, bright and friendly.
“I’m sorry, sir, but Dr. Lockham is not answering,” the receptionist said, reclaiming his attention. “She might be—”
“Is there something I can help you with?” the woman previously staring at him asked, moving closer to the desk.
“This is Malik Lewis,” the receptionist said. “He’s looking for Dr. Lockham, but she isn’t answering. Normally I see her when she leaves.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s still here.” The nurse peeked at her watch and then back at Malik. “She actually should be on her way down. We were supposed to meet here five minutes ago.” She walked around the counter and approached Malik, her hand extended. “I’m Layla.”
“Nice to meet you.” Malik shook her small hand.
“Let’s head toward her office. We might run into her.”
“Thanks.” Malik strolled along side of her. “Have we met before?” he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
She laughed, taking four steps to every one step he took. “Not exactly, but Natasha has mentioned you.”
Truth or Consequences Page 2
