Page 52 of Her Only Hero

I slammed the locker door. “No. There are no photos.”

“I’m sorry, June,” he said. “I saw the way you looked when you walked by, and I just wanted to say I am not interested in Ursula. Nor was I ever interested in her. I know it’s moot now, but I wanted you to know.”

My temper flare dissolved. He had read my expression of disgust and addressed unspoken words, unspoken emotions. His consolation smoothed my unjustified, immature outburst. “It’s okay,” I said.

“I’ll see you around,” he said and turned to leave.

“Aram,” I said. “This stick actually isn’t mine. I found it in my basement.”

“Found it? Do you know what’s on it?”

“A long list of names. And numbers.”

“Phone numbers?”

“No. There are too many digits,” I said. And then I couldn’t believe the next words out of my mouth. “Actually, could you have a quick look? Maybe you’ll know what kind of list or directory it could be.”

“Sure. We can use my office computer, if that works.”

“It does.”

We made our way inside his office and left the door open. I handed him the flash drive, and he inserted it in into his laptop. He clicked the mouse until the list came up.

I shuffled closer. “I don’t recognize any of the names, but of course I never expected to. There are no logos, subtitles, or dates.”

He scrunched his brows in thought. “No, I don’t recognize any names either. This looks like a personal compilation.” He put a finger to the screen and counted the number of digits beside the names. “Twelve,” he said. “A phone number has ten.”

“Right,” I agreed.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “There are twelve digits. I don’t know if this is a coincidence, but patient identification numbers have twelve digits.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

At the end of my shift, I cleaned the bench tops with disinfectant wipes and snapped off my gloves. “Good night, everyone,” I said to the group.

“See you tomorrow,” Lara said. The telephone rang, and she answered it. “Forensics. Please hold. June, it’s for you.”

I turned. Who could that be?

“Hello,” I said. Dead air. “Hello? Patrick?” I heard muffled sounds, and then the call ended with a click.

Lara had been watching.

“Faulty connection, I guess. Did the caller sound like Patrick?”

Lara shook her head. “I don’t think so. It was a man, though. Quiet voice.”

The phone rang again, and I snatched the receiver. “Forensics.”

“Hey, June,” Patrick said.

“Did you call a second ago?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

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