The Hunt (Mike Greystone, Book 1) by Michael Sigurdsson Read Free Book Online Page A

interview Mrs. Wimbledon, and this could take longer considering she was not available as she was exhausted after a two-night vigil at her children's bedside along with police and FBI interviews, and surely organizing her husband's funeral, I decided to stay one more day, since I still didn't have a decisive clue on how to proceed with this whole affair.
    I called Martin to reschedule my return flight for tomorrow.
    "Thanks Dr. Lockerby, I mean Jane, for arranging the interview," I said and added, "I'll be staying in Pittsburgh one more day to talk to the kids’ mother, especially in light of the new circumstances. I was meaning to drop by her house today, but you said she's still at the hospital?"
    "Yes, she was absolutely exhausted. She has to sleep for at least a few more hours. You could probably get some more information from her, if any, once she’s rested."
    "Great. So I'll hang around for a few hours nearby and will call you every now and then to check if she’s woken up.”
    "Sure, no problem," Dr. Lockerby said.
    "Or, perhaps, I could invite you to lunch and perhaps get some additional intelligence about the case from you? Have you eaten anything yet?" I asked, hoping to strike up a new friendship.
    "Not sure what else I could add," Dr. Lockerby responded, "but I’d gladly join you for lunch, I'm actually starving now."
    "Great, let's go then. I'll have to rely on your local knowledge. Do you know any nice places to eat around here?"
    "Yeah, there are a few good spots to have lunch," she said.
    Dr. Jane Lockerby led me along the long corridors of the Children's Hospital, and I once again enjoyed the hypnotizing sway of her buttocks and hips. Before we left, she changed her scrubs for fresh ones, which must have been straight from the wash and a little tight, and which highlighted the beautiful feminine proportions of her hips and waist even more. To be honest, I didn't think such a tight-fitting garment was at all useful for day-to-day medical work, so I thought she would only wear them when going out for lunch or something.
    She led me to a nearby restaurant. A quick glance reassured me they did have steaks. I loved experimenting with food, but often, out of habit, I ended up eating a steak. The waiter approached us and we placed our orders.
    "Can I have the risotto with a chicken and vegetable salad, please?" Jane ordered her meal.
    "And the fillet steak for me. Medium-rare, please," I ordered mine.
    "A fine hospital you have," I started the conversation.
    "Indeed, a very busy place. I love working with children, that's why I chose this profession. It’s certainly not as depressing as working in geriatrics, or terminal illnesses, or the brain injury ward," Jane answered.
    "How are John and Karrie recovering?"
    "I put on a smiley face today during the interview. Physically, they’re fine, the wounds are serious, but under control. What's not easy to heal is the mind. This takes a lot of time, and a lot of money."
    "Can their mother afford it?"
    "They are, or rather were, a decent middle-class family, but the husband was the breadwinner. She'll surely get some insurance, but the house is expensive to keep, and she'll need all that money to raise the children. I’m not sure how much will be left for psychological care or therapy."
    "I can pay for psychological support for both of them," I offered.
    Dr. Lockerby was surprised.
    "Well, that would be very nice of you, but you really don't have to. There are most likely hundreds if not thousands of children in similar situations all over the country. We probably have at least one such kid at any time in our hospital. You can't help everybody. Besides, it's expensive. It's very expensive."
    "I can afford it."
    "With all due respect, you being a government employee, I'm not sure how you can afford it?" she was puzzled.
    "I'm not a government employee, I'm a government contractor. That is, many of my jobs are for the government. But it's freelance. Moreover, I don't