Kate White - Hush

As soon as she pulled into the driveway she understood why Rory felt so afraid. The house was down a long driveway and there wasn’t another house in view-not even the main estate house that the gatehouse must have once been a part of.

After turning the car off, Lake twisted her body and surveyed the area. Rory’s gatehouse, she saw, was two stories and made of stone. The first floor was brightly lit and a security light above the small garage illuminated the driveway. The garage door was open, showing the front of a small car butting out. There was no sign of anyone outside, and yet Lake knew that with all the trees and hedges on the property, it would be easy for someone to lurk in the shadows.

Before climbing out of the car, Lake called Rory’s home phone number.

“It’s me out here,” Lake said when Rory picked up. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the door.”

As Lake tore across the yard, the muddy ground sucked at her clogs. Rory flung open the front door just as Lake reached the top step of the porch.

Rory’s blond hair was held back in a simple ponytail today. She was wearing stretchy black capris, obviously pregnancy pants, and a matching maternity tunic. It was the first time Lake had seen her without makeup, and on her left cheek there was a patch of inflamed skin that looked as if it had been picked at worriedly.

“I’m so sorry,” Lake said as Rory relocked the door. “Because of the rain I had to drive at about fifty most of the way. Are you okay?”

“I just got another hang-up,” Rory said. She shook her head back and forth quickly, as if that would make everything stop. “It’s like they’re trying to figure out if I’m here or not.”

“Okay, let’s talk about what to do.”

“Why don’t we go into the kitchen? I can make us some tea.”

“All the other doors are locked-and the windows?” Lake asked.

“Yes,” Rory said. “Everything.”

Lake followed Rory from the hall into a living/dining room. It appeared as if the interior had been gutted to make the space more modern. The walls of the living room were white, with a wall of sleek built-in bookshelves and cabinets. The couch and armchair were covered with white canvas and the only color in the room was from the blue-and-green area rug and the blue throw pillows on the couch. There wasn’t a single picture on the wall.

“Like I told you, we haven’t been here all that long,” Rory said, as if guessing Lake’s thoughts. “We’re still fixing it up.”

Rory led her into a small, pristine kitchen. It was clear from the gleaming pots hanging from the wall and the shelves of spices that Rory liked to cook. Lake remembered Rory saying she’d made jams.

“Do you want milk in your tea?” Rory asked, filling the kettle.

“No, thank you.” Lake said. She glanced around, wondering where the files were.

“Let me just get this started and then I’ll show you the files,” Rory said, as if she’d read her mind again.

“Good,” Lake said. “I also think we need to figure out a place for you to stay until your husband gets back.”

Rory’s shoulders drooped. “But where ?” she asked. “I don’t want to stay with a stranger.”

“You could stay with me,” Lake said.

“But you said someone tried to kill you.”

“At least I have a doorman. I think you’ll feel safer there.”

Lake peered out the window. They were on the other side of the house from the garage and all she could see was total blackness. There was no way she could leave Rory alone here. Off in the distance, a bolt of lightning sliced the sky. From inside she could hear drops of rain begin to spatter in the yard.

“Do you really think someone was outside the storage room?” Lake asked. She wondered if Rory, in her anxiety, was being paranoid.

“Yes-I could hear that kind of squishy sound people’s footsteps make on the carpet.”

“Who was still at the clinic then?”

“Dr. Levin. Dr. Sherman was probably in his office but I never saw him, but I did see Dr. Hoss in the lab along with one of the other embryologists. Brie was around. Oh, and Dr. Kline.”

“Dr. Kline?” Lake asked, surprised. She’d thought Harry had told her in the park that he wouldn’t be returning to the clinic that day.

“Yes,” Rory said. The kettle screeched and she flicked off the burner. “He walked out with me and asked what I was doing this weekend. He told me I should probably savor my time alone since I wouldn’t have much afterward. Why don’t I get the files now? I have to let the tea steep.”

Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky and a clap of thunder followed a second later. The cell of the new storm was moving their way. Rory walked back into the living room, and as Lake took a seat at the kitchen table, she saw Rory pull a handful of files from a cabinet.

“I didn’t have time to go through very many,” Rory said, returning. “But at least I found some.” She handed Lake the stack, all still in their hanging files.

The one on top was the Hunt file and Lake slowly opened it. On the basic information form, by both Alexis and Brian’s names, was a faint scribble of letters: BLg and BLb . The other charts, as Rory had promised, all had the codes, too, and it was clear Lake had been right-they all corresponded to hair and eye colors.

“Had you ever noticed these notations before?” Lake asked.

“No, but I rarely look at that page,” Rory said. “It’s just for basic information-nothing that matters so much in their treatment.”

As Lake studied the files, Rory set their cups of tea in front of them. A butter cookie was cradled next to the cup in each saucer.

“I hope you don’t mind herbal tea. Once I got pregnant I threw out everything with caffeine so I wouldn’t be tempted.”

“No, that’s fine, I’m wired enough,” Lake said distractedly and took a sip. There was honey in the tea, which she hated, but she didn’t have the heart to tell Rory.

“Are the letters a code-something that has to do with the embryos?” Rory asked.

“Yes. I can’t explain right now, but I will later, once I get more information.”

“Do you really think this is why Dr. Keaton was killed?”

Lake tore her eyes away from the files and looked at Rory.

“I think it’s definitely possible. If Dr. Keaton learned about this and threatened to expose the clinic, that would be a very big motive.”

Rory seemed to look through her, distracted, and Lake wondered what she was thinking. Suddenly she was jostled by a thought. She recalled an odd little pause when she’d spoken to Rory about Maggie’s desk.

“Do you have any ideas, Rory?” she asked. “Did you ever see anyone near Maggie’s desk?”

“Well,” Rory said. She sat down at the table across from Lake and took a long, slow sip from her cup.

“Rory, please,” Lake urged. “Tell me.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. But one day-it was just kind of odd. I saw Dr. Kline there. He doesn’t usually come by the nurses’ station.”

“Harry?”

“Um-hm. And he seemed kind of surprised when I came up behind him. He said he was looking for a pencil sharpener.”

Lake felt as if someone had shoved her from behind.

“I almost told you the other day,” Rory added. “But I didn’t want to upset you. I can tell you…you know-like Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Lake asked.

“I thought you two might even be dating.”

Lake shifted her body in surprise. Clearly Rory had picked up the interest on Harry’s part and thought it went both ways.

“I like Harry as a person,” Lake said. “But we aren’t dating.”

“Oh, my mistake, then. I think Harry’s great, too. I know he had problems with Dr. Keaton, but I can’t imagine him ever hurting him.”