He took several moments to respond. “I looked back through all of Isabel’s medical records that I have here.”
Oh, heck. “I’m sorry. That had to be hard for you.”
“It was,” he admitted. “She kept a spreadsheet of appointments, health-care providers and treatments. And there were some more things in there that she hadn’t told me about. Some herbal experimental stuff.”
Since it’d been one of those experimental things that’d ultimately killed Isabel, that had to have struck a nerve or two.
Livvy went to him. She sank down on the bed next to him and took his hand in hers. It was a risk. When it came to Ethan and her, touching and intense emotions didn’t always lead to good decisions. But she wanted to comfort him as he’d done to her when he’d woken her from this latest nightmare.
“What wasn’t in the file was anything from New Hope,” he went on. “And I know she went there at least once. Since I doubt Vernice will spill any details about that, I want to go to the source. I want to speak with Chloe and Franklin and demand to see Isabel’s record.”
No need for her to point out that the record could have been destroyed. Or that Chloe and Franklin could simply refuse to hand it over without a whole lot of legal wrangling—and that could give them time to remove anything that might be incriminating or questionable. Still, Livvy understood why Ethan needed to do this, and she wanted to help with it.
“I’ll go with you,” she said, and it wasn’t a suggestion. She would be with him on this.
He nodded, muttered a thanks under his breath. “I texted Grace and told her what I plan on doing, and she gave a reluctant thumbs-up.” Ethan checked the time. “I’d like to leave after you’ve had some breakfast.”
Livvy was all for that, and even though she wasn’t hungry, she had made a habit of eating something healthy each morning for the sake of the baby. Ethan had obviously considered that, too, because when they went into his kitchen, she saw the breakfast tacos in the cast-iron skillet on the stove. He dished her up one, added a glass of milk and took a bowl of fresh, cut-up fruit from the fridge. Obviously he’d made good use of the time he’d been awake.
“Thanks,” she muttered, sitting in the breakfast nook. The taco was still warm and delicious.
Ethan took a bite of one, too, and he moved the laptop onto the table so they could both see the screen. “I’ve only researched one name on the list that Eden sent,” he explained, pulling up the email. “Chrissie Anne Waterton.”
Anne. That jumped right out at her, and Livvy stopped in mid-bite of a peach slice.
“I don’t think this is the woman mentioned in Ivy’s diary,” Ethan was quick to assure her.
That eased some of the sudden tightness in her chest, but Livvy still fixed her attention on the name and the handful of details that someone—Ethan, no doubt—had added there.
“There’s no record of her ever having a daughter,” he explained. “Only two sons who are now in their early twenties. She was a surrogate at New Hope about thirteen years ago.”
So, the timing didn’t match either. Still, she might be able to tell them something. “Will we talk to her?”
“Eden and Grace will do the interviews once the backgrounds have been complete. Most will happen over the phone. But for any with possible red flags, Grace wants to visit them in person.”
That made sense, and Grace might be able to tell if the person was trying to hide something.
“How many names do we have on our share of the list?” she asked and then continued eating her breakfast.
“Eighteen, and it’s a mix of clients, staff and surrogates.”
“Eighteen,” she repeated, realizing that the list had to be huge since it would have been divided among about a dozen people. And more names would likely be added as info came to light in the interviews.
“None of the other women on our list is named Anne,” he told her. “But Eden said she has a couple who are high priority for her.”
Yes, priority because this Anne could be connected to Livvy. “I’ve thought about who my mother might be,” she admitted. “And considering the nightmare, I have to believe something…bad happened to her. If that’s her in the dreams, that is.”
He stayed quiet a moment. “Have you thought about working with the police sketch artist to recreate the face, and then we could try to match it to someone in the missing persons database?”
Livvy had thought about that. And had dismissed it because it’d seemed too terrifying to try to voice all the details. But not knowing was terrifying as well.
“I can do that,” she managed to say though the muscles in her throat had gone tight. Before she lost her nerve, she texted Grace to approve it. “I’d need you there with me for that.”
“I will be,” he assured her, and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he brushed a kiss on her cheek.
She hadn’t needed that kiss, this moment to know just how important Ethan was to her. Steady as a rock. Her best friend.
And she was falling in love with him.
