Animal Instinct by Rosenfelt, David (novels for students TXT) 📕

reaction. Also my second and third. Why don’t you come over at two; Eddie Dowd will be bringing it here. I’ll have Sam here as well.”

With time to kill, Dani, Simon, and I head out to an outdoor brunch. We don’t talk about the trial or case at all, or how next week at this time I could be sitting in a cell. But even with that hanging over our heads, it’s a pleasant respite and Simon seems to have a great time being doted on by two people.

The brunch ends early when it starts to rain. “Maybe this is an omen,” I say.

Dani frowns. “Or maybe it’s just rain.”

I arrive at Andy and Laurie’s just before two with low expectations, and they are met. Eddie Dowd had gotten here a little early, and they’ve gone over copies of Doris Landry’s medical information.

Nothing is obviously out of order; Landry had a series of medical issues throughout her life. Back surgery, a torn Achilles, various infections … nothing that one wouldn’t expect from someone who had already lived more than seventy years.

According to the records, her pancreatic cancer was diagnosed less than six months before her death. If that is true, then there would have been no issue in disclosure to insurance companies on a policy that was taken out well before that.

“That’s that,” I say. “So much for my germ of an idea.”

Andy shakes his head. “Not necessarily. If we think they’ve manipulated the data once, then maybe they’ve done it here. Sam, Hackensack Hospital is the one who provided the information on the cancer diagnosis. Can you get into their system and find out if what they provided matches what is here?”

“I don’t see why not,” Sam says. “Give me a couple of hours.”

He leaves, and thus begins the longest two hours of my life, or at least the longest since the other day during jury selection. The phone finally rings, and when Andy sees on caller ID that it’s Sam, he says, “You take it.”

I answer and Sam’s news is quick and painful. “The hospital information matches what we got from Ardmore. It’s legit.”

IT’S rained on and off most of the night and into this morning.

An outdoor brunch is therefore out of the question, and an indoor one eliminates Simon’s attendance, so that is equally unacceptable. So, Dani makes French toast for breakfast. It’s not her specialty; actually, Dani doesn’t have many cooking specialties. I haven’t told her that, but I suspect she knows it because she’s eating her efforts as well.

I’m still aggravated that yesterday proved to be such a nonevent, but that hasn’t stopped me from thinking that the source of all that has happened is somewhere at Ardmore. Somehow, according to the already disproven theory that I can’t let go of, they are screwing around with the data.

My current suspect in all of this is Richard Mahler, the head of IT, who replaced Don Crystal. Mahler obviously has the expertise and access to have done it, and that this all began when he was brought in is too much of a coincidence. I also think Jason Musgrove might be engineering the entire enterprise, but I’m nowhere close to proving that either of them is culpable.

I decide I should speak to Stephanie Downes about this, partially because she has the information I am looking for, and partially because she seems to be the only one willing to talk to me. I have no way of reaching her on Sunday because I only have her office number. I check the company website to see if I can email her; maybe she checks her emails on weekends.

I catch a break when I see that she is doing another seminar today at noon; this one is at the Saddle Brook Marriott, just ten minutes from my house. I don’t know how long the seminars last, but I certainly don’t want to sit through the entire thing. I’m guessing that it can’t be less than an hour, so I arrive there at one o’clock.

The setup seems to be the same as last time, although Carol Ayers is the only woman at the desk outside the meeting room. It’s possible her colleague left already, since obviously the crowd has long ago gone inside and gotten settled.

“Hello, Mr. Douglas,” she says.

“Seventy-five bucks to have you take my picture?”

She smiles. “No charge and no picture this time; you missed most of the event.”

I start to go in, but then stop. “What did you do when Gerald Kline and Stephanie held events in different places at the same time? How did you choose which one to work at?”

“They never did that; they would alternate.” Carol smiles. “They probably didn’t want to pay another employee.”

I go inside, and sure enough, about fifteen minutes later Stephanie Downes finishes her spiel to substantial applause. Unfortunately, that is not the end of it. The attendees surround her afterward, trying to get her attention and make an impression. She stays gracious throughout and occasionally takes notes about what they say. She gives them all her card.

When it’s all over, she walks over to me. “Sorry that took so long.”

“No reason to apologize. You’re a medical services rock star.”

She laughs. “Not hardly. They want me to recommend them for a job. That’s why they’re here.” Then, “But I’m guessing that’s not why you’re here. You’re here for more information.”

“That’s uncanny.”

Another laugh from her. “So what is it this time?”

“There’s another person that I want to know if Gerald Kline recommended for his job.”

“As I told you, I wouldn’t necessarily have that information, but I might. Either way I won’t be able to access it until tomorrow when we get in the office.”

“I understand.”

“Who is it?”

“Richard Mahler.”

“Oh, that one is easy. I didn’t get involved because I’ve known him forever; we literally went to high school together. Gerald handled it so that there wouldn’t be a conflict, especially since it was such a top-level position.”

“So Kline recommended him for that job?”

She