Authors: Chris Taylor
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #crime fiction, #contemporary romance, #romance series, #australian romance, #thrillers and suspense
“Good afternoon, I’m Detective Rohan
Coleridge.”
“Hannah Langdon,” the blonde answered and
shook his hand firmly.
Rohan turned to her companion. “Samantha.
How nice it is to see you again. It’s been awhile.”
To her credit, she took his proffered hand,
but gave it the most perfunctory handshake. Hannah looked from one
to the other, a questioning look on her face. “You two know each
other?”
Rohan noticed Samantha did little more than
offer the tiniest of nods. He wasn’t quite so reticent.
“Yes, we knew each other years ago, back
when Samantha was still in college. It must be ten years or more
since we’ve seen each other, right?” His gaze snagged hers before
moving lower. Without conscious thought, he paused at the swell of
her generous cleavage where it peeked out from the opening in her
shirt. She tensed under his perusal and fresh anger flared in her
dark eyes. He cursed silently under his breath.
What the hell was he doing?
It was
obvious the woman had a gripe with him. What did it matter that he
didn’t have a clue about what he’d done to put her off side? And
why did he care, anyway? The odds were after today he’d never see
her again.
Hannah appeared oblivious to the tension.
“Wow, what a coincidence,” she said with a brief smile and turned
to her friend. “It must be our lucky day. Sharing our concerns with
someone who’s at least familiar to you will hopefully make things a
little easier.”
Rohan suddenly recalled the women were
supposed to be there to report something about illegal organ
harvesting. With his gaze trained on the cute blonde, he said,
“Follow me. We’ll go upstairs. We can talk in private up
there.”
Turning his back on them, he re-entered his
code into the security pad and then held the door open for the
women. Samantha followed more slowly. As she passed through the
doorway, she kept her head averted, as if unwilling to look him in
the face.
Rohan caught a whiff of her perfume and
ancient memories bombarded him from all sides. He was twenty-four
again and had just made detective. To top it off, he was in love
with the girl of his dreams. A girl who happened to be Samantha
Wolfe’s roommate.
* * *
Samantha took a seat beside Hannah in the
stark interview room and once again cursed under her breath. Of all
the people to run into, it had to be a man she despised from her
past. And Hannah thought it was a good thing that Sam could confide
in a familiar face.
Huh!
She couldn’t believe the irony. She’d
agonized over her decision to accompany Hannah to the police
station. It was only after her friend made it clear she was going
to the police to report her suspicions with or without her, Sam had
finally agreed to come along. At least if she were present, she
might have a hope of downplaying Alistair’s role. She still refused
to believe he might be involved in anything illegal, but as the
head of the organ retrieval team, his name appeared on at least
some of the paperwork and it was feasible the police might view him
as a person of interest.
She had to admit, she was curious to hear
Rohan’s take on the evidence, if one could call it that. A big part
of her hoped he’d dismiss Hannah’s concerns as coincidence and then
both of them could put it out of their minds. She wished she’d
known being present for the interview meant she’d cross paths with
Rohan Coleridge again. She might have seriously reconsidered.
He’d told the truth when he said they hadn’t
seen each other since college. Sam was surprised he’d mentioned it
at all. He must surely know Daphne had told Sam all about the baby
and how Rohan had abandoned them. When Daphne broke down in tears
one night and told her all about it, Sam had been so furious, she
didn’t know if she’d ever feel calm again. It had been up to her to
console her friend and reassure the devastated girl that she and
her unborn child were better off without Rohan Coleridge, a low
life who lacked the courage to face up to his responsibilities.
Daphne had left college right before the
baby was due and had returned to her hometown in the country.
Gradually, she and Sam had drifted apart. Sam had heard via mutual
friends that Daphne had given birth to a little boy.
Sam might not have seen or heard from her
roommate since college, but that didn’t mean she’d forgotten about
her, or the unforgivable way she’d been treated. And now, a decade
later, the cause of Sam’s angst sat across from her with nothing
but a scarred, modest Formica table between them, looking calm and
relaxed and way too good looking for any woman’s peace of mind.
He’d always been an attractive man. He might
have been her former roommate’s boyfriend, but that didn’t mean Sam
had been blind to his assets. Even back then, there were many. Tall
and broad shouldered, his blond hair was sun bleached in summer and
darkened to a tawny golden color in winter. It matched the color of
his skin. Daphne had once told her Rohan had French heritage on his
mother’s side. His eyes were bluer than the ocean on a bright and
sunny day and right now, they contemplated her with a mixture of
wariness, curiosity and confusion, as if he weren’t quite sure what
to make of her prickly attitude.
Renewed anger surged through her at the
thought that he was pretending not to know about the source of her
antagonism. He couldn’t honestly believe Daphne wouldn’t tell her?
They’d been roommates. Not even Rohan could believe Sam wouldn’t
notice her friend’s pregnancy or the sudden absence of her
boyfriend.
No, he must know.
The fact that he
once again chose to shrug off responsibility infuriated her. She
wondered how long she’d be able to stay in the same room as the
cad. Before she was able to consider the thought further, Rohan
drew a notepad toward him and pulled a pen out of his crisp,
tailored shirt pocket. He cleared his throat and directed his first
question to Sam.
“The constable downstairs indicated you were
here to report illegal harvesting of human organs. Is that
correct?”
His gaze drilled into hers and without
warning, her throat went tight with nerves. So in police matters,
he could be direct. Fine. She could do direct. She licked her
suddenly dry lips and cast around for a response that wouldn’t
implicate her brother.
“Yes, that’s correct,” Hannah answered
firmly.
Sam frowned and tried to make eye contact
with her friend, but the girl either steadfastly refused to look at
her or was unaware of Sam’s efforts. Sam couldn’t help but suspect
it was the former.
“What makes you think that?” Rohan asked,
this time speaking to Hannah.
Hannah finally glanced at Sam, but quickly
looked away. “I work as an embalmer at the Max Grace Funeral Home
in Balmain. Sam is a forensic pathologist at the Glebe Morgue. I’m
sure you can appreciate that between the two of us, we come across
a fair number of the deceased persons who resided in or around the
inner city. Over the past couple of months, we’ve each noticed an
unusual increase in both the number of bodies with donated organs
and the volume of organs and tissue that have been removed.”
“You mean, bodies where the deceased has
donated organs prior to their death?” Rohan asked, looking at
Hannah.
“Yes,” Hannah replied.
“When you say an unusual increase, how many
do you normally see?”
“Three or four donor bodies a week, on
average with the majority of donors limiting their donation to two
or three major organs,” Hannah said.
“And now?”
“More than double that,” Hannah replied.
“And what about you?” Rohan asked, directing
his gaze at Sam.
She held his stare without flinching.
“Usually one a week, if we’re lucky and like Hannah said, it’s
normal practice for donors to put a limit on the number of organs
donated.”
“I take it you’re an advocate for organ
donation?” he asked dryly.
“Yes. Are you?”
Rohan appeared to consider her question and
then replied, “I guess so. I haven’t given it a lot of
thought.”
She compressed her lips in disapproval, even
though she had no right to judge. Not everyone had a loved one in
dire need of a transplant. Like Phillip, Rohan was entitled to his
opinion. It was only fair she concede her personal circumstances
had a great influence on her attitude toward organ donation.
“You should,” Sam managed between gritted
teeth, still unable to let it go. “It’s important to give it
consideration before it becomes an issue. You never know…”
Ignoring the tension in her voice, he nodded
and gave her a wink. “You’re absolutely right, Doctor Wolfe. Of
course, I don’t plan on keeling over any time soon, but as you say,
you never know.”
He grinned and she felt it all the way down
to her toes. Warmth coursed through her and to her dismay, heat
washed over her cheeks. She averted her gaze and silently cursed
her body’s traitorous reaction.
The truth was, she reminded herself harshly,
Rohan Coleridge was a coward. He’d turned his back on his pregnant
girlfriend, abandoning her without a second thought. As far as Sam
knew, he’d never taken responsibility for the child. Somewhere,
there was a ten-year-old boy growing up without a father and it was
all Rohan’s fault. She’d best remember it the next time she went
all warm and gooey at the sight of his way-too-sexy grin.
As if finally sensing her disapproval,
Rohan’s expression sobered. He cleared his throat. “Let’s get back
to the reason you’re here. What makes you suspect illegal organ and
tissue harvesting? It’s a very serious allegation. I assume there’s
a protocol that’s followed when a person donates their organs?”
“Yes,” Sam answered, fighting to keep her
voice on an even keel. “If a deceased person, who has made a
request prior to their death—to have their organs and tissue
donated—requires an autopsy, the treating doctor must first contact
the coroner or one of his deputies and obtain authorization to
carry out the recovery of the donated organs prior to the post
mortem.”
“I assume the coroner or his deputy makes a
decision based upon the likely cause of death? Whether or not there
are suspicious circumstances, that kind of thing?” Rohan asked.
Sam held his gaze and nodded, feeling
slightly less angry as she focused on their reason for being there.
“Yes, all of those things are taken into account.”
“For example, if the doctors suspect Mary
Jane has died from complications arising from brain surgery, I’m
guessing the coroner would be okay about her donating her heart and
kidneys. Would that be a fair assumption?” Rohan asked.
“Yes,” Sam replied.
Rohan made a few notes on the paper in front
of him and then turned to Hannah. “And how does it work in the
funeral homes? Is there a similar procedure in place?”
“Well, of course, there are protocols that
are followed, but anyone coming directly from the hospital to the
funeral home doesn’t need permission from the coroner for the
donation to take place. The doctors obtain the necessary consents
from the donor’s next of kin and the removal of the donated organs
and tissue occurs while the patient is still in hospital. We don’t
receive any notification or even any paperwork concerning the
donation process and we don’t need to. The body is prepared for
burial in the usual way.”
Rohan acknowledged her explanation with a
nod. “I get how Samantha would be aware in her line of work that a
body is minus a few organs, but how do you know?”
“It’s usually a matter of recognizing the
signs that the body’s been operated on just prior to death. There’s
no need to use keyhole surgery on someone who’s as good as dead.
Depending upon which organs and tissues are being donated, the
doctors cut across the abdomen or straight down the chest. It’s
reasonable to assume when you come across those kinds of incisions
on a body that the deceased has been an organ donor.”
“I see,” Rohan replied with the slightest
shake of his head. “Fascinating.”
Sam bit down on her impatience. “Can we
please get on with it? I have other things to do.”
Rohan looked up at her. “Of course, but it’s
important for me to understand the basics before I can decide
whether your suspicions warrant further investigation. Getting up
close and personal with dead bodies might be an everyday occurrence
for you ladies, but it’s something I am thankfully a whole lot less
familiar with.”
“Afraid you wouldn’t have the stomach for
it?” Sam smirked.
Rohan stared at her, his expression
unreadable. “Absolutely. Quite frankly, I don’t know how either of
you manage it. I admire your resilience and courage.”
“Someone has to do it,” Sam said in a
dismissive manner, uncomfortable with his praise.
“I enjoy it,” Hannah said. “It’s more than
just a job. It makes me sound weird, but it gives me pleasure and a
wonderful sense of satisfaction knowing I’ve made someone’s journey
into the afterlife a little more comfortable, not to mention a
whole lot less smelly. Let’s face it, death can be a messy
affair.”
She smiled with genuine humor and Sam was
reminded what a wonderful person she was. Determined to finish what
they’d come for, Sam straightened in her seat and spoke again.
“The fact is, both of us have noticed an
unusual spike in the number of donor bodies and the volume of
donated tissue. We’re not sure if it’s the result of the raised
awareness about organ and tissue donation because of media coverage
and the advertising campaign by the Sydney Harbour Hospital, or if
there’s something sinister going on.”
Rohan kept his gaze on Sam. “What makes you
think the latter?”
Sam closed her eyes briefly and drew in a
deep breath. Easing it out, she cast around for the right words.
“Apart from the fact we’re seeing at least double the usual number
of affected bodies, we’ve noticed a few other anomalies.”