“How would someone be able to get all that taken off?”
Darcy shrugged. “Money will buy you just about anything. Except ethics and a decent personality.”
How much power did Cole have? And how low would he go to get what he wanted? A thought hit my head, which flew from my mouth before I considered the dubious ethical implications. “Darcy, if you wanted to access the hospital records to view Katrina and Robert’s injuries, could you do it without anyone knowing?”
It’s not like I thought they were murdered—Robert was drunk. This was just to prove to myself it was an accident.
“Yeah, easy.” He closed the page, opened the Church Heights Hospital page, and started typing. Unease pressed against my gut. I’d just requested he do something illegal. Something that ifwe were caught, would see us both do jail time. I consoled myself with the knowledge that no one would ever know.
The hospital login screen came up, and he was in a few moments later, whizzing into different pages with yet another login password.
“You’re very clever, Darcy,” I said, amazed.
“I know,” he answered, not conceited but matter-of-fact. “That’s rather interesting,” he mused. “Katrina and Robert’s autopsies were both done in Two Peaks.”
“Interesting how?”
“They are always done at Church Heights. Every ‘car accident’ here,” he said with air quotes, “the reports are done by Dr. Page, and the injuries are not always consistent with the accident.”
I blinked. “What are you saying, Darcy? You think Page killed them?”
He shook his head of spiky-styled orange hair. “No, not Page.” His eyes lit up with a strange excitement. “Church Heights has way too many car accidents, missing hikers, and bear attacks for a town this size. Amy, think about it. Five times the national average.”
Bob’s words hit my head.
“He died in a car accident. He was only twenty-five.”Bob’s words hit my head and a deeply unsettling feeling took root in my veins.
I turned my attention back to the screen, peering over Darcy’s shoulder, and saw Katrina’s name come up under Dr. Page’s notes, where he’d treated her in emergency. Darcy read it aloud with speed and detachment. “Katrina’s skull was fractured at the back and on her forehead. Her ribs were all broken. Facial injuries, nose broken, cheekbone and jaw fractured, massive internal injuries, bruises all over her body.”
My stomach churned.
“And this is also interesting—she had bruises and cuts on her wrists.” He glanced up with a knowing look.
I frowned. “Wrists? What would cause that?”
“Being tied up, cable ties or thin rope.”
My heart sank and then rose in a sickening rush. I said in a raw, quiet voice, “What about Robert?”
“No report on him—he went straight to Two Peaks. Which is strange. What would a Two Peaks ambulance be doing in Church Heights, unless it was already prearranged? Unless Page was too busy with the fires,” he muttered as if thinking out loud. His lips twisted in thought. “They only have one doctor here, and there were a number of people with smoke inhalation problems and a few burns. Maybe that’s why Katrina’s body was taken to Two Peaks for the autopsy . . .” I didn’t respond, waiting for him to go on. “I’ll hack into Two Peaks hospital.”
I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop now; I needed to know. It took him only a few minutes, and then he was reading, “Robert Tolle, injuries noted were a fractured skull; massive internal injuries; broken cheekbones, jaw, and nose; crushed ribs—but no mention of bruises on his wrists. And”—he paused and read down the page—“a blood alcohol level of 2.0.”
“And Katrina’s autopsy report?”
He skimmed over it and said grimly, “Same, except no mention of bruised wrists or a fracture to the back of the head.”
“Who did the report?” I asked, my lungs contracting painfully in my chest.
“Dr. Phillip Raynor.”
Chapter 35
Portland
Bob arrived shortly after, and I said quick goodbyes, then hurried out the door, Darcy’s words whirling through my head.
I slid into my car, put the keys in the ignition, and called Georgie.
