Page 82 of Dirty Love

What would be legit cover that her identity didn’t twig anything at the federal level overnight?

Over the age of twelve, any SSN applications need to be made in person. I glance at the bed, where she’s curled up in a ball, her red hair spread across the pillow. Small and innocent.

My eyes scan over the list of acceptable documents.Certified copy of medical record.

Then I go back to her SSN. Issued in the State of Washington.

I frown. But Grant’s stolen identity was from California.

He’d said this was their plan all along for her…maybe she hadn’t had a SSN before. Maybe, name excluded, this was for all intents and purposes a legitimate first SSN. And they’d gotten a doctor to participate in their scheme for reasons that made sense in the fucked up way that sometimes reasons do.

I’d seen stranger things.

I log in to her doctor’s website, and from the admin panel, navigate to the supposedly secure side where the health records are kept.

Her last appointment had been for a B-12 shot. It looks like she gets them quarterly. Before that was another B-12 shot and the blood panel we both got in the summer. I hadn’t looked at the actual results, though, just the screen shot she’d sent me of the patient note confirming she didn’t have any communicable illnesses.

I click in to it now and give a quick scan, but I’m not a doctor.

I go back further, and everything looks ordinary for the previous year, but two years ago, her doctor flew from Seattle to Tokyo to give her a B-12 shot.

That seems extreme. I’ve given myself a B-12 shot before. It’s not that bad, just a quick jab in the ass.

I frown as I keep scrolling back. Another regular physical, another blood panel. She’s been healthy for most of her adult life, and I can’t find the start of her B-12 supplementing before I run out of digital health records.

Leaning back in my chair, I frown and run my hand through my hair.

“What is it?”

I glance over at the bed and find her sitting up, holding the sheet in front of her naked body. I give her a half-smile. That’s all I can muster right now. “Something doesn’t add up, and I’m not sure what it is.”

“About what?”

“Your identity.”

“You’re still worried about that?” She frowns. “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“What does the internet say about me?” She climbs out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her, and comes over. I pull her onto my lap and point to the screen. “How long have you been seeing this doctor?”

“Are those my medical records?” She gives me a big, wide-eyed glare. “Wilson!”

“Sorry?”

“Work on that. You should be.” She sighs. “Since forever. He was the doctor I saw after I was discharged from the hospital when Keegan died.”

“But that happened in Los Angeles.”

She nodded. “We flew up to Seattle. I don’t remember why.”

I open a new window and run a couple of searches on the good doctor. “Because he’s a family friend of the Rooks, it seems.”

“He’s never said anything about that. I didn’t even know that Grant knew him beyond seeing him from time to time at my appointments.”

An ugly thought begins to form in my mind. “Tell me about the B-12 shots that you get. Why do you get them at the doctor’s office? A nurse or even yourself could administer them at home.”

She made a face. “I know, but I’m really needle phobic. And two of them every three months…Easy enough to visit the doctor’s office.”

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