by Bonnie Vanak
This photo showed Anna without her teddy bear, wearing a green-and-white shirt and white shorts. She was cleaner, smiling and clearly not afraid.
Either she knew the person taking the photos or...
Hidden camera.
Recognizing the sky blue wallpaper with the clouds, she dropped the photo and raced into Exam Room 4, the room where they treated pediatric patients on overflow days. Cabinets faced the long exam table. She opened each one, pawing through the contents.
The cabinet below the sink was locked. She didn’t have the key. Clint would and so would Mike, and perhaps George.
Maybe she should call her brother. Her mind whirled with the implications.
This was not good for the clinic. There would be more media attention, fingers pointed at her illustrious family and more stress and pressure for her parents.
All of that mattered little. Finding Anna and the other missing girl mattered most.
But Clint needed to know this. Discover the truth from her and not get sidelined by the media or interrogation from the FBI.
Her brother answered his cell phone on the first ring. When she told him what she’d found, he went silent for a moment.
“Clint...did you know about this?”
Everything rebelled against asking that difficult question. Clint was family, and in her family, they came first. The Norths had a sterling, impeccable reputation. But Belle had to know.
“Damn it, Belle. I can’t believe you would ask that,” he finally said.
“I have to know. You’re the foundation director and you’re responsible for what happens here.”
“It wasn’t me,” he snapped. Then he sighed and swore softly.
“Then is it Mike?” she persisted. “Someone must know about this who was in charge. You can’t have this kind of activity taking place under everyone’s noses!”
“Why not? You had no clue.”
“Not fair.” She bit her lip. “It took place in Exam Room Four, the room Mike wanted painted, the room he liked to use. Is that why?”
“I don’t know.” Clint exhaled a sharp breath. “I’ll talk to him.”
“No, Clint, you need to wait for the FBI...”
Click. The phone went dead.
Now she’d done it. Put family first and Clint would alert Mike, and if Mike had a clue of the whereabouts of the missing girls, he’d clam up.
Time to pay the piper...
Belle called Kyle. “It’s me.”
“What’s wrong?” The deep timbre of his smoky voice reassured her, centered her in the crazy spinning reality of what she’d just found.
Belle took a deep breath to steady herself. “I found something hidden in my office at the clinic. There’s something you need to know...”
* * *
Half an hour later, the team from the FBI, along with the local police, combed over the clinic grounds and interior.
This time, they searched every square inch of every single room.
Kyle helped in the search. He was methodical, but brisk and professional. His angular jaw tightened as he examined the photographs, his fingers covered with a fresh pair of latex gloves.
He had said little to her since arriving. As if she were to blame for this.
“I called you as soon as I found the photos. I didn’t take them,” she told him as the police tore apart her office.
In his gaze she saw the silent condemnation.
“What made you come here early in the morning?”
Oh, he was direct all right. Belle bit her lower lip, not wanting to get Mike in trouble. Still, if he had done this...
Hard to believe a doctor with such high social standing could sink so low. Was Mike dealing in child pornography? Was that why Anna had been kidnapped?
“Dr. North, what made you come here this morning?” he repeated.
Back to last names again. Kyle had turned from the friendly man with the discerning attitude and the sexy smile to the cold, impersonal FBI agent.
Belle gave an inward shudder. She’d hate to be on his bad side. Well, now she was viewed as the bad person. The suspect. “I talked with Mike, Dr. Patterson, last night.”
He listened as she revealed everything about the conversation, and how she’d found the key and eventually, the hidden compartment.
“You didn’t call me after talking with him.”
Condemnation in that deep voice. Belle drew in a breath. “I wanted to check things out for myself first and not waste your time.”
A partial truth.
“No, you wanted to protect your family name first.”
“I did call you.”
“And you alerted your brother first?”
His keen blue gaze searched her face. Belle sighed. “Yes, I told Clint. The foundation oversees the operation of this clinic. He deserved to know.”
Kyle’s jaw tightened. “You should have called me before telling anyone else what you found. This doesn’t put you in a good light, Dr. North. You might be considered an accessory after the fact, especially if we can’t locate Dr. Patterson.”
Belle reeled. Her gaze whipped from the papers stacked up on the filing cabinets as police tore through the files, to the desk, to the light bulbs detectives removed from the overhead fixture. “Excuse me—I did call you. I could have tried to hide this. I want to help you catch whoever took Anna.”
Lifting a few photos, he let them drop onto the desk. “Even if this implicates someone close to you, like Michael Patterson? Or your own brother?”
Clint. Surely he couldn’t be involved. Belle lifted her gaze to him. “I want to help you find Anna.”
It wasn’t an answer, and they both knew it. His expression shuttered. “Do you recognize the room where these were taken?”
“Exam Room Four. It’s not often used.” She hesitated. “I did look inside and found a locked cabinet. I don’t know...where the key is.”
“Show me,” he directed.
Police swarmed all over the clinic, removing photographs from the hallways, even tearing off the cheerful animal wallpaper in one exam room. Belle fisted her hands in her lab coat pockets. They were tearing the clinic apart, but how could she blame them?
After what she’d found, she would have done the same. Who knew if finding the hidden photos might have come too late?
Kyle swept his cool blue gaze over the counter. He seemed distant, cold and professional.
Everything looked in place. A jar filled with tongue depressors, disinfectant and a tray of instruments.
“When was the last time you used this room to examine children?”
Children, not patients. Belle searched her memory. “Maybe two months ago.”
“You haven’t been in here since, except to look around after you found those photos?”
A faint flush heated her cheeks. “I used it two weeks ago to change into workout clothes. The room was empty and had more space than my office and the bathroom.”
Belle pointed to the locked cabinet. Squatting down, he removed a tool from his pocket and jimmied the lock. A click followed. He opened the doors.
Boxes crammed the shelves. He opened each one. Each one contained medical supplies, from syringes to medication.
No camera.
“Those photos were taken in this room,” she insisted. “I recognize the clouds on the wallpaper. One of them had a heart drawn in the middle, courtesy of a bored nurse.”
Kyle dug deeper into the cabinet and withdrew a round black wireless speaker. “Do you recognize this?”
Not that she’d used this room often. Belle preferred the front room, with its softer lighting and larger area to work in. This one was too cramped. “It’s a speaker for Bluetoothing music. Some of the doctors and nurses use it with frightened children to soothe them. We can program it from our phones.�
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“Do you use it?”
She shrugged. “The nurses might have turned it on the few times I’ve used this room, but I have other means to calm children.”
“That’s not all this is used for.” Squatting down, he gestured to a small dot in the speaker’s middle. “See that?”
Belle’s heart dropped to her stomach as he unscrewed the top, revealing the mechanism inside. The hidden camera.
“You can buy these at any electronic store online,” he muttered, his expression stormy. “It was right here in front of you.”
“I never use it. It’s always been there, like the tongue depressors. I use Boo to calm the children because...”
Judging from his cool look, Agent Kyle Anderson had placed her under suspicion again. Belle lifted her chin. “Dr. Patterson bought it for the clinic.”
Oh, this was so not looking good for Mike. Inwardly, she cursed him. How had they been so blind?
Because he’s a family friend and a distinguished physician.
“How long has this been here?”
She tried to remember. Her volunteer time had usually been during the week. “I guess about a month.”
“One month.” His jaw tightened. He went into the hallway, called to the crime-scene techs, “I need this room swept for prints, everything.”
Belle backed out of the way, her throat tight with emotion. Bad enough she felt partly responsible for Anna’s disappearance. Now the clinic was obviously the base where Dugin had operated in collusion with someone working here. All those days she’d been here, examining patients, working alongside the staff and she had never suspected anything.
“Your team will need to dust the photos and my office, as well,” she said quietly. “My medical journal I use to record notes about patients is also missing.”
Towering over her, he stared down with the same analytic coolness displayed yesterday on his arrival. “You’ve known there was a Bluetooth speaker in this room and never questioned it? Never inventoried it or recorded anything about it? Never inspected it yourself? This is your family’s charity? How much damn control does your family exert, anyway? Or don’t you even care?”
Resentment filled her. Belle sidestepped a man wearing an FBI jacket in the hallway and flattened herself against the wall. “I’m not in the habit of checking every single thing my coworkers do or the items they bring to the clinic, Agent Anderson.”
“Maybe you should have.”
How could she argue with such logic, when it was clear someone on staff had fooled them all along? Belle gritted her teeth. “You have the keys and the computer in my office is on. You’re welcome to sort through all the files. Do you need me for anything else?”
“No.” He turned his back on her, heading for Exam Room 4.
Fishing her phone out, she called her brother. Clint didn’t answer, so she left a voice mail, alerting him to what happened.
She peered out the front door and saw news vans outside in the parking lot. The media crush had begun outside, but that was the least of her worries.
Belle popped her head into the room and saw Anderson dismantling the speaker. “When you’re all finished here, drop the keys off at my house.”
“It will be a long time before we do.” Blue gaze filled with contempt, he shook his head. “Don’t leave town, Dr. North. And tell your staff and your family not to leave, either. This clinic is now officially a crime scene. It’s closed until further notice.”
Chapter 13
The day had progressed from bad to worse.
Stale cigarette smoke clung to the jacket of the crime lab cybertechnician. Walls of the darkened room of the computer lab seemed to close in around him. Kyle hated this crypt-like room, with its buzz of computers and machines, lacking sunshine and daylight. But this kid was a whiz at Quantico, so they’d flown to Virginia to have him analyze what they’d found.
The room was a perfect place for vampires to hang out. And arrogant computer whizzes who thought they were invincible.
Kyle wrinkled his nose. “Dude, you should give up the cancer sticks. Nasty habit.”
The thin, wiry kid—hell, he had to be no more than twenty—didn’t even look at Kyle, but kept studying his computer screen. “You should criticize. Ever think of getting a new aftershave and stop borrowing from your father?”
At least I’m not setting one foot in the grave before I’m thirty. “I don’t wear aftershave, and hurry up with that film. If you spent less time smoking on your break and more time processing, maybe we could get our work done.”
The camera he’d found in the exam room had a sweet little SD card. They’d taken it back to the office, but the card was encrypted, protected by some complex code.
Code that Genius Boy boasted he could crack in no time. So what the hell was the holdup?
“You done yet?” he snapped at the tech.
“This baby has a virus attached and the wrong password could wipe out the entire card. Unless you’d care to try,” the kid muttered. “Maybe you gorilla types should go back in the field, beat your chest some more instead of bothering the hell out of me.”
Roarke strode into the darkened room. “Ease up,” he murmured. “It’s a delicate process extrapolating the information to get the right password.”
Kyle shrugged off his partner’s hand. “I’ll ease up when this case is solved. We should have immediately ordered the clinic searched from top to bottom.”
“Dr. North didn’t appear to have anything to hide.”
Right. Except for her family’s involvement. Finding the photos made him aware that the clinic had a sinister underbelly, a purpose that dovetailed straight into trafficking children. Need a photo of a cute kid so you can determine which one is best to abduct and send overseas? Why, step right into this room.
“She has plenty to hide,” he countered.
“If she did, why would she call us?”
But Kyle wasn’t in the mood for logical arguments. He’d let himself be distracted by a pretty face and a sparkling personality and pale, smooth skin as touchable as velvet. He’d wondered what it would be like to kiss her...her mouth so ripe and warm, tasting sweet, the softness yielding beneath the subtle pressure of his own.
He gave a disgusted snort. Served him right for thinking with the wrong brain.
Damn, he was upset with the world today, upset with himself and angry at Belle. He’d thought she was decent, started to have faint hope he could trust her.
Faint hope that she’d put the welfare of endangered children ahead of her own needs, including those of her family.
But instead, she’d lied to him. She’d deliberately caged the truth to give her brother time to get word to their chief physician so he could cover his ass.
They’d have a hard time finding the doctor now. Bastard was probably on his way to Indonesia by now, or another country prohibiting extradition.
Doctors always banded together to protect each other. Just as cops did and so did the military. Only he’d thought Belle was different from the physicians who’d screwed up with his daughter.
Should have known better.
His nerves frayed, he tapped his fingers on the desktop. “Any time now...”
The kid snorted. “You field agents have no respect for the delicacy of my work. One does not recreate a masterpiece in minutes.”
Masterpiece? “This isn’t art school. Get to it.”
Roarke tugged him away from the desk. “Let him work. And you, cool down. You’ve been grouchy as a toddler at nap time. Give it a break.”
Toddlers, naptime. Cute little girls, their dark curls tousled and held in place by bright pink butterfly barrettes. “No nap.” Scowls. “No tired, Dada.”
How many naptimes had he missed? How much time had he spent brushing his daughter’s hair, or singing her bedtime lullabies to smooth
away that scowl?
How many times had he just plain missed spending time with her, all because he was on the fast track to a brilliant career?
The job always came first.
But family mattered. No matter what, he had to reunite Anna with her mother.
Kyle paced the small room, his thoughts in a maelstrom. “How could we have missed the camera? If we’d dug deeper, gone over every square inch in the search...”
“We had no reason to suspect the clinic. The security guard/maintenance guy had an alibi and Belle North was on the level.”
“Not on the level. She’d lie to protect her precious family name and their rep.” He rubbed a hand over the bristles on his chin.
“Maybe. Let’s see what Junior comes up with on the film.” Roarke perched on a stool, gnawed on a granola bar. He offered a piece to Kyle. “Lunch?”
He shook his head, half admiring, half impatient with his partner’s ability to down food at the most stressful of times. Who could eat when they had a promising, hot lead right before them?
Then again, Roarke was a former SEAL. The man learned to refuel every chance he could.
The SD card could contain more photos of children who’d visited the clinic. Incriminating evidence. Maybe even documents or memos leading to the SOB who’d taken Anna.
If they were real lucky, they’d catch a break and have the good Dr. Patterson speaking into the microphone, saying how he orchestrated all of this.
Until Junior cracked the code, they didn’t know what they had.
“Got it.”
Whirling, he made it over to the desk before Roarke could finish cramming the last bite of granola into his mouth. Kyle leaned over the tech’s leather chair as the video popped up on the wall-mounted widescreen.
Grainy footage at first. No, the room was dark. On the screen, a light snapped on. Kyle expected to see a nurse entering the room with a young patient.
Instead, Belle walked inside, carrying a gym bag. She dropped the bag on the floor, stretched.
His heart raced. Oh damn, please don’t tell me she’s involved. Did the bag contain money? Something else suspicious?