So Sweet a Changeling: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 6)

Chapter Twenty-Two: Lauren, Thursday

Lauren's phone buzzed in her pocket while she was talking to Omar, but she didn't answer it. She never answered her phone when she was with a client, and kept her phone on silent so she wouldn't be disturbed by the ringing, but the vibration would remind her to check later.

Her landline wasn't taking any calls, either; she'd told reception not to transfer them and to take messages. Her entire attention was focused on her client when she was with them, because the client was paying for her time.

Of course, Omar wasn't just any client off the street. His ex-girlfriend sat in the cubicle outside her office. She and Rachel had talked about whether to meet him together, but Rachel had declined, citing confidentiality, but most likely not wanting to let her past feelings for the man interfere with their investigation of his present-day problem. If Rachel had to use her skills in forensic accounting for this file, she would, but otherwise she wouldn't be talking with the client, not after that awkward phone call on Tuesday.

"Let's start at the beginning," she said, starting a fresh pad of paper. She liked to use a fresh pad for each new client; she loved the feel and smell of the paper and glue of the pad, because they put her in the frame of mind she needed to take in a new client's details and the nature of their problem. "We'll start with your name and address, plus a phone number and email where we can contact you, preferably not a work email. We'll get all this entered in our database later."

She pushed the pad to Omar, who used his own pen to write the details. As he did, Lauren examined the man, who was their age but engaged to a younger woman. She imagined what he might have looked like as a teenager, and pictured him and teenage Rachel making love for the first time. Would it have been awkward and lovely at the same time, as it had been with her and Joe? As first times went, he would have been a memorable candidate, with his chiselled jaw, olive skin, deep brown eyes and runner's build, which Lauren wondered how he found the time to maintain when he worked long hours at a hospital. He didn't have kids, so maybe that was one distraction gone.

He passed the pad back, and she began. "So, you mentioned you work at Surrey Memorial Hospital?"

"That's right," he said.

"And there's a colleague at the hospital you suspect of wrongdoing?"

"Yes. He's not only violating the Canada Health Act, he's taking advantage of vulnerable people."

Lauren paused and looked up from her jotting. "Wouldn't you rather bring this to the police?"

"I don't have proof to bring them."

"What about the College of Physicians and Surgeons? Don't they do disciplinary work with less of a threshold for proof?"

"Again, same problem. I need someone who can follow him and keep an eye on him outside the hospital. I'm almost certain he's meeting his clients off-site. If we can catch him in the act, we can bring that proof to whichever authority he deserves to face."

She thought about that and nodded. "Here's what I'd like to know: how did you begin to suspect him in the first place?"

Omar cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. He didn't answer. 

Lauren waited. Police and investigators of all stripes found this to be the most effective of interview/interrogation skills. People hated silences; they felt the need to fill them.

He turned back to her and asked, "Do you really need to know how? Isn't it enough that I hire you to find proof of such?"

Lauren sat back and stared hard at him. "Is this why you don't go to the police with this? I take it you're protecting a source?"