Sam gave her carryout box to Jackie and drove back to the Morning Glory Clinic. She had to keep taking deep breaths to slow herself down. It could all be one big coincidence. Why would Marti and Carly both have been patients at the clinic? Carrie did say her sister was thrilled to have lost some weight before her final fitting. But what about Marti? Should she wait and talk to Forrest and Carly first? And then there was Donna Oberweiss. Although Sam had heard the word destiny when she touched the purse, Donna hadn’t committed suicide. Had she been a patient at Morning Glory? Or perhaps she dated one of the doctors.
Sam weighed her options of showing her hand now or playing it close to the vest. Chess was never her strong suit. She would just as soon upend the board and let the pieces fall where they may.
Sam walked up to the counter and presented her card. “I’d like to see Doctor Bordeau and Doctor Revere.”
Miss Blonde and Gleaming was still manning the front desk. She looked at Sam’s card and appeared puzzled. “Weren’t you just in here about HypnoBirthing, or was that a ruse?”
“Oh, I am interested in it but right now I know of two former patients…”
“Clients.”
Sam gritted her teeth. “…clients who have committed suicide. I need to discuss that with them today.”
Olivia picked up the phone and turned her back, her voice low. After a short conversation, she hung up the phone and held Sam’s card as though she had just found it in a dumpster. “They won’t be back until tomorrow but I’ll give them your card and have them call you.”
Right. Like that’s going to happen. If they wanted to play it that way, Sam was more than willing to wait them out.
Sam thanked her and left, but she felt eyes on her back as she returned to her Jeep. She soaked in the warmth of the vehicle as she gathered her thoughts. What could the good doctors gain by forcing women to commit suicide? Were they having affairs and the women threatened to expose them? Sam dismissed that reason immediately. Carly had planned to marry the love of her life and Marti was devoted to Forrest and their baby. Maybe they were two patients who said no to their doctors’ advances and threatened to expose them. There goes the multi-million dollar business. She could ask Jackie to sign on as a patient and see if either of the doctors would hit on her. But what if they made her their next victim?
She studied the two-story building of marble and glass set back one hundred yards from the street. Must have cost a fortune to build. The property alone in this part of town was expensive. From this view it resembled an elaborate courthouse. Trees and shrubs hugged the building while fall mums added color to the landscape.
Through the expansive glass Sam could see the marble staircase leading to the second floor. According to the brochure, the sleep lab was housed on the second floor, as were the executive offices. Morning Glory wasn’t a rehab center, though. People weren’t admitted for months on end, only overnight for the sleep lab. Sam shoved the key in the ignition and watched a young woman exit the building. She had an attractive face but hid her body in a jogging suit. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Sam watched in the rearview mirror as the woman crossed the street and entered a shop.
Sam pulled the key from the ignition, exited the Jeep and crossed the street. The woman entered a coffee shop named Java the Hut. Sam hoped she planned to sit down and relax for a while. There were two people seated at a table against one wall pounding on their laptops. An older woman was shoving a pastry in her mouth and was none too dainty about it. The pastry was crumbling in her hand. A man in a baseball cap and sunglasses sat at a table near the counter reading a newspaper. The young woman from the clinic left the counter and carried her coffee to a table by the window. Sam ordered a caramel latte. She turned to see if the woman was still by the window but then her spidey senses went off. The man in the baseball cap was peering over his sunglasses at the woman from the clinic. Sam heard a sound. Click…Click. As he held the newspaper in his left hand, his right hand was playing with his car keys. The remote key was the type Abby had for her van. You had to press a button to get the key to pop out. Then you folded the key back in. The man was flicking the key out and snapping it back in. Click…Click. A nervous habit, obviously. It shouldn’t have set off alarm bells, but Sam never questioned her instincts.
She paid for her latte and slowly approached the woman. “Hi. I’m Sam. I don’t mean to pry. I saw you exit the clinic across the street and thought maybe you could calm my fears. Hope you don’t mind.”
“No. Please sit. I’m Tamara.” The woman closed her book and set it aside. She had dark features, exotic in the way her eyes were shaped.
“I was apprehensive about going into the clinic because I don’t know much about it. I have their literature but I really would like to get some feedback.”
“I have been going to the clinic for six weeks now. I’ve always had a problem with food.” She raised her hands in a what are you gonna do motion. “I love food.”
Sam leaned across the table and whispered, “They don’t hypnotize you, do they?”
“Oh, no. At least I haven’t been hypnotized. What are you going for?”
Sam patted her stomach. “HypnoBirthing. My friend says it’s all the rage.”
“Is that like the Scientology quiet child birth?”
“I’m not sure. I thought they just slapped a piece of duct tape on their mouths.”
Tamara laughed. She had beautiful teeth and a beautiful smile. Wide hips were probably genetic but Sam didn’t want to tell her to live with it.
“Did you know Carly Farnswood? I believe she went to Morning Glory when she wanted to lose weight before her wedding.” Sam wasn’t sure if Carly had died before Tamara started going to the clinic but she had to keep her talking somehow.
“I don’t think so. The name doesn’t sound familiar, but we really don’t interact with the other clients. There’s at least fifteen minutes from the end of my session until the beginning of another.”
“But you talk in the waiting room, don’t you?”
Tamara shook her head. “Once you check in you are taken to another waiting area for your specific therapist. Even the sleep clinic patients have a different entrance. Guess they must think people would be embarrassed if they ran into someone they knew.”
“Interesting,” Sam murmured. “How about the owners? I mean Doctors Revere and Bordeau. Are they the ones treating you?”
“Unfortunately, no. They are really hot.” Color flushed Tamara’s cheeks. “I have a female therapist and she’s actually a nutritionist. I’m learning more about controlling my metabolism by the foods I eat.” She lifted her latte. “I don’t think this is on the menu.”
“Well, a good nutritionist would allow you a treat every now and then. Depriving the body of those little pleasures kills the metabolism.”
“Wow, wish you were my nutritionist.” Tamara checked her watch. “Oops, I’ve got to run. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Thank you for the information. I think I feel a little better about the place.” Sam watched her leave, then checked her phone. If she had expected a frantic call from the doctors, she was sorely mistaken. They were probably having her checked out, perhaps making a call to Daddy Revere who would then make a call to the mayor. She decided to talk to Forrest and Carly first, maybe catch them both at their next support meeting. As she finished her coffee she noticed the man in the baseball cap was standing on the curb watching as Tamara crossed the street.