BLOODY BELL

by Jeremy Waldron

  While we waited for Kristi to return, I took the liberty of browsing the framed family photographs on the dining room hutch and shelves. Their house was comfortable. Lots a plants, full of bright colors, and toys scattered over the floor.

  “Cute family,” Erin said.

  I was bent at the waist staring at one photograph in particular. “There is no doubt Tommy has his mother’s eyes, but can you see any relation to his father?”

  Erin took a closer look. “Maybe that’s where her story begins.”

  Kristi came back to the front without her son and seemed noticeably lighter in spirit. We could hear him fussing in the back but like the seasoned pro Kristi was, it didn’t faze her. “I’m sorry, I forget,” she held one hand up, “did you say you wanted something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

  “We really can’t stay long, Mrs. Patterson,” Erin said, shaking her head.

  “Please, call me Kristi.” She smiled and guided us to the living room. She perched herself in the corner of the couch, Erin opposite her, and I made myself comfortable in an armchair.

  “The reason I called was because of your podcast,” Kristi reminded Erin. “While not the same as my story, it was eerily familiar for both Tony and me. We thought that our story would also be of interest to you.”

  “I’d like to hear it,” Erin turned to me, “from the beginning so that Samantha could hear what you said to me last night on the phone.”

  Kristi licked her lips and was sitting up with her hands clasped between her knees. It was clear she was nervous, and perhaps a bit insecure, when she began telling us her difficult journey to conceive.

  “Tony and I knew from the beginning that we wanted to be parents. He talked about having four children; I wanted two.” Her smile reached her eyes when she took the trip down memory lane. “Anyway, soon the excitement waned as nothing happened. No matter what we did, our efforts kept failing us. Tony remained supportive in the beginning, but I took it personally—like there was something wrong with me. We kept trying to conceive, and it nearly destroyed our marriage.”

  “But you now have Tommy.” I smiled.

  “Yes.” Kristi lowered her chin and mirrored my smile with one of her own. “We have Tommy.”

  “Tell us how that happened.”

  “One day I was having lunch with my mother—she lives not far from here—and mentioned I should consider IVF. When I got home, I looked into it. I had sticker shock. The cost was astronomical and the results weren’t guaranteed. I let a couple of days pass before bringing it up with Tony. He wanted to take the risk—even if it would have drained our savings—and it worked. The embryo held.”

  “And that was how you got Tommy,” Erin confirmed.

  Kristi’s eyes watered with joy as she nodded. “My pregnancy with Tommy was horrendous. I never felt as awful as I did during those months I was pregnant.” She paused and set her eyes on Erin. “Are you a mother?”

  Erin shook her head. “Samantha has a boy.”

  “Teenager,” I said, raising a single eyebrow.

  Kristi shared a knowing look before continuing. “I didn’t feel myself. I was moody and Tony received the blunt of my emotions. Then, toward the end of the pregnancy, I was put on bedrest. And, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.” Kristi laughed, her eyes popping with disbelief. “I was in labor for fifty grueling hours before Tommy finally decided he wanted to come out.”

  My eyebrows raised and I felt sorry for her.

  Kristi rolled her neck and let her gaze travel to the back of the house where Tommy was now quietly sleeping. “But we have him.”

  “At what point did you start to think that Tommy wasn’t yours?” Erin asked.

  Kristi turned her attention back to the room, her lips curling into a frown. “After Tommy’s first birthday Tony began asking questions.”

  I gripped my knee cap and asked, “Was he blaming you for having an affair?”

  “No.” Kristi’s chin trembled. “Nothing like that. At first, I couldn’t admit that his concerns were valid. I never told Tony, but I began seeing it from his perspective and realized there was just…something…about Tommy. I mean, he was fine physically—a healthy little boy—but he didn’t seem completely ours. My husband kept at it and I told him to let it go.”

  “Did he?”

  “I tried to make up excuses for Tony. I told him it was stress from work that was making him think Tommy wasn’t ours, that he was exhausted from being a first-time father. But no matter what I said, Tony just couldn’t convince himself that Tommy was his.”

  “I can imagine that was hard on your marriage.” Erin was direct in her delivery.

  “Extremely.” Kristi pressed her hand over her heart. “But I knew Tommy was mine.” She paused and let her gaze lock on a family photo across the room. “I thought this was Tony’s way of pushing me and Tommy out of his life. I knew our journey to becoming parents wasn’t how Tony imagined it would be. So, one day, he surprised me and demanded we request Tommy’s charts from the clinic. You know, to see if he was ours.”

  “And did you get them?”

  “I would do anything for my husband to keep my family together. Yes, I agreed to go along with Tony’s plan and finally see the proof of Tommy’s genetics. I just needed to move on with our lives. By now, I didn’t care if Tommy didn’t share our genes because he was still ours no matter what. But when we requested the chart from the clinic, the doctor refused to hand it over.”

  My brows pinched as I shared a look with Erin. Her spine was ramrod straight and I felt myself scoot my bottom to the edge of the chair with sudden interest. “What did you do?”

  “Well, now I was convinced Tony had been right all along.” Her lips pinched. “We threatened legal action if the clinic didn’t give us Tommy’s records.”

  “And did they comply?”

  “Eventually our request was met.”

  “Was the information you were looking for included in what the clinic provided?”

  Kristi gave a hesitant nod. “Yes. But the information seemed forged.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like it had been doctored to say what we wanted to hear.” Kristi swallowed. “Now I was convinced Tony was right. So we did our own maternity and paternity tests.” Her eyes hardened. “Tony had been right all along. Tommy doesn’t share Tony’s DNA. Only mine.”

  I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and sighed. Erin was still openly staring, trying to make sense of the story we had just been told.

  “If it wasn’t your husband’s sperm,” Erin’s brows were knitted, “then whose was it?”

  “We suspect it was the doctor’s, but we could never prove it. We put our life savings into the IVF treatment and have nothing left. I’m sure the doctor knew that from the beginning. Without a lawyer to sue, or the money to hire a private investigator, we had no other options but to keep living our lives. Then I heard your podcast,” Kristi turned to Erin, “and I called you.” Kristi nodded to Erin and pleaded with her eyes. “I can only imagine how busy your schedules must be, but maybe you could use your platform to tell our story as well?”

  Erin didn’t budge. Her body was frozen as she stared into the eyes of a desperate mother looking for answers.

  “Will you investigate this clinic for me? For my family?”

  Erin flicked her gaze to me and, without speaking, I let her know it was her call. I’d have her back no matter what she decided. It was certainly an interesting story.

  Erin turned her attention back to Kristi. “May I see the files?”

  Kristi’s eyes watered with relief as she left for the kitchen. “Everything is inside,” she said as she came back to the room. “The details of my pregnancy and the data we believed to be forged are highlighted in green.” She spread the papers down on the coffee table. “All my notes are attached.” She pointed to the name at the top of the page. “This is the fertility clinic.”

  Kristi lifted the paper and handed
it to Erin. I could see it all the way from where I was sitting. The familiar logo and the emotions that came attached with it. My heart beat itself up against my ribcage as I felt my blood boil once again with sudden feelings of anger.

  “That’s where you had your IVF?” I asked, trying not to sound as tense as I felt.

  Kristi turned to me with a questioning look lining her brow. “Yeah. You know it?”

  North Denver Reproductive Medicine, the same clinic whose packet my sister brought home with promises of riches. “Yeah, I know it.” My eyes hooded with regret and my voice sounded rough like gravel. “But I wish I didn’t.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Tracey Brown felt her baby kick for the very first time. She sat up in bed and placed one hand on her belly where she’d felt the tiny movement, like a butterfly’s wings opening. She closed her eyes and felt her lips curl into a closed-lip smile. Her body tingled with a sense of euphoria she had never felt before.

  It didn’t matter if her eyes were open or closed because the room was dark. To her, it was all the same. Not even a sliver of light worked its way beneath the door.

  Tracey only assumed it was night once the lights had been shut off. Either way, it didn’t matter. With each hour that slipped by, Tracey’s sense of time lost all meaning.

  Tracey lowered herself back down onto the bed, hoping to feel another flutter of life inside her. She stared into the dark abyss, thinking about her parents. She missed them dearly, regretted the last argument she’d had with her father. Her life had changed so quickly these last few months and everything seemed to have twisted out of control before Tracey had time to process her future—the future she knew her father wanted her to imagine.

  I’m sorry, Daddy. Tracey’s soft voice whispered past her lips. I hope you will forgive me.

  Tracey reasoned that it was because of their last argument that her parents still hadn’t bothered to visit. Her mom was siding with her dad, and her dad was a stubborn old mule. Regardless, she missed them. She wanted to call them but Dr. Cherub told her that he had done it for her—Tracey needed the rest to keep the baby healthy.

  Rolling to her side, Tracey curled herself into a ball and hugged her knees to her chest. She felt sick and wasn’t sure if it was because of her hormones from the pregnancy, something she ate, or the stress of isolation taking its toll.

  She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wanted to go home. This place wasn’t what she thought it was. It was darker, more depressing, and not a friendly place anyone would want to stay. Her fear had increased when she was abruptly woken by more screams from another room.

  Tracey was certain that was what woke her baby as well. The woman’s piercing wails sounded like torture. Tracey could feel the pain in her cries that came through the walls.

  Tracey didn’t know the woman—didn’t know how many were here in the facility with her—so could only assume that she was another pregnant woman the clinic had picked up.

  Then, the strangest thing happened. Everything stopped. The building went still. One second, screams of bloody murder shook the walls. Then, the next, dead silent.

  Tracey’s heart beat steadily inside her chest. Her eyes were wide and alert. Her breaths were shallow and she remained hidden beneath her bed sheets, afraid to come out.

  Now, as Tracey lay there without the lights, she wondered if she would ever make it out of this place alive. Her mind wandered to the deepest and darkest parts of her imagination. Her skin was taut with goosebumps. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape her mind’s torment of what happened to make the woman stop screaming. It had been so sudden, Tracey couldn’t help but consider two options—a baby had been born, or the mother had died.

  Suddenly, the door opened and her heart stopped.

  Tracey lifted her head off the pillow and stared into the bright white light.

  A dark silhouette stood in the threshold and Tracey was certain that whatever happened to the woman next door would also be her destiny.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  We thanked Kristi Patterson for sharing her story with us and stepped out under the afternoon sun, leaving her house with our heads swimming in questions.

  The walk to my car was quiet. Kristi had rendered us speechless.

  Mrs. Patterson’s delivery left little doubt that what she said could be true. I sympathized with her. Their journey to conceive was one of the most difficult—physically and emotionally—I had ever heard. As if that wasn’t exhausting enough, they had to now deal with immense doubt. Unbelievable.

  Feeling the pinch, I checked the time and knew we had to get moving to our next line item for the day. Swinging my car door opened, Erin asked, “Could you imagine?”

  I shook my head, dropped into my seat, and set the wheels in motion as soon as Erin shut her door.

  “What if Kristi’s theories are true,” Erin was looking through the paperwork Kristi provided us, “and Tommy’s biological father is the doctor who administered her IVF?”

  The thought sickened me. It also had me concerned with how many others were out there with the same story but didn’t know it. Or maybe they had their own doubts but couldn’t find the courage to speak up. Either way, the whole story left me feeling queasy.

  I accelerated through a yellow light, zipped up the onramp, and merged onto the highway, pointing my car east.

  “Sam, are you all right?”

  The concerned look Erin was giving me had me wondering just how bad I looked. I angled the rearview mirror on my face and took a look myself. I was pale.

  “You’ve barely said a word since we arrived at the Pattersons’.” Her brow folded like an accordion. “You’re not still thinking about what Susan said, are you? About genetically modified babies?”

  I flicked my gaze in her direction. “Aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “After everything I’ve heard in the last twenty-four hours, anybody even remotely interested in working with embryos or pregnant women or women who want to conceive has jumped to the top of my list of possible suspects.”

  “Okay, I’m with you on that. But this seems personal.”

  I lowered my brow. “Because it is.” I turned and locked eyes with Erin. “North Denver Reproductive Medicine was the clinic my sister visited about surrogacy.”

  Erin held my gaze for a moment before turning away. “Wow.”

  “Full circle.” I couldn’t believe it myself.

  Erin tipped her body toward me and glanced to the speedometer. Without realizing it, I was clocking 80MPH with ease. I didn’t let up. My adrenaline was spiking and I was afraid of missing our chance to speak with Ms. Dee.

  “You never did say how your sister was recruited,” Erin said.

  “I’m not sure she was, but I know she found them online. At least, that’s all she told me.”

  “Could it be the same doctor posting the online ad Tracey responded to? Cameron and Kate could have, too.”

  My stomach dropped. It wasn’t something I wanted to consider, but Erin had a point.

  “Sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to frighten you like that.”

  “It’s okay.” I watched my knuckles go white on the wheel. “Now we know where to go next.”

  “You still want to speak with Ms. Dee?”

  “Where do you think we’re going now?”

  “It’s probably safe for us to cross Tyler’s name off our list.”

  Dr. Benjamin Firestone kept coming to mind. I tried to think what his hesitation might have been to CRISPR technology. I tried to see it from a doctor’s point of view but I didn’t know where I was even supposed to be looking. As far as I was concerned, CRISPR gene editing was the same miracle cure that was supposed to help free Allison from her disease. What was I missing?

  “I want to see Ms. Dee’s eyes when we confront her with the video of her and Tyler. But, more importantly, I want to know if Cameron responded to an ad similar to the one King said Tracey did.”

 
; Chapter Forty-Three

  “Now what did that scumbag accuse me of doing this time?”

  Ms. Dee seemed particularly feisty today. We surprised her at work. She was busy unpacking boxes of bananas in the produce section of the downtown Safeway when we arrived. I watched her hands delve deep and they moved fast, not once pausing for even a moment.

  “Why do you assume we’re here to speak to you about Tyler?”

  Finally, she stopped moving and looked me directly in the eye. “Well, aren’t you?”

  I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. Unlocking the screen, I brushed shoulders with Ms. Dee as I threatened to press the play button with my thumb. Ms. Dee’s eyes dropped to the screen and I waited for her to beg me to not let the video roll. Instead, she played dumb—something I would soon make sure she would regret.

  “What’s that?” she said.

  Cocking my jaw, I tapped the screen. The video of her and Tyler came to life. “Care to tell us about this night?”

  Ms. Dee’s chest expanded before she breathed a deep exhale. “Stop it.” Her hand blanketed the screen as she nervously glanced around to see if anyone saw who shouldn’t have. “If anyone sees this I’ll be fired.”

  “This is public. Anyone can find this if they go looking.”

  Ms. Dee’s eyebrows drew together as the cords in her neck strained.

  “You thought I wouldn’t find out about this?” The insulting jab at my intelligence twisted my side, reminding me to tread lightly with Ms. Dee. I remained calmed despite the heat spinning in my chest. This wasn’t about Ms. Dee. This was about Cameron.

  Ms. Dee’s watery gaze was unwavering. I could only assume she was trying to decide how best to move on and refocus our investigation to the original reason she’d sought our help in the first place.

  “Because now I’m beginning to believe that you did use your daughter to get closer to Tyler,” I said, holding her eyes inside of mine.