Page 26 of Rescuing Josiah
“I work here at the hospital, but I also work for a private clinic,” Dr. Wood began.
“Okay,” Chelsea said slowly.
They needed to hear the doctor spell something out if they were going to get the man arrested and thrown in prison. So far, the cameras and microphone they’d planted in his office had yielded nothing concrete that would help with that goal.
“We have some connections that the hospital doesn’t have,” Dr. Wood continued. “And sometimes we are able to procure organs that traditional methods are unable to.”
“What does that mean exactly?” Chelsea asked.
“Sometimes we have families who wish to bypass a little red tape.”
“Red tape?” Josiah growled.
“Some people who have lost loved ones want to make sure that those organs actually make it to a person in need,” Dr. Wood told them with what could only be described as fake compassion. There wasn't a drop of sincerity in his words. “Unfortunately, sometimes red tape gets in the way of that.”
None of that was true, of course. The organ registry did everything in its power to get the limited number of donated organs to those who needed them the most. Unfortunately, there was a massive shortage of people willing to donate their organs, which left an opening for trafficking rings just like the one Dr. Wood worked for to step in and take advantage of dying people and their loved ones.
“You mean bypassing the law?” Chelsea asked in a soft voice.
Before the doctor could answer, Josiah growled out a question of his own. “Is it a better chance at finding her a match?”
Dr. Wood met his gaze squarely. “Yes. Much better.” The doctor offered no answer to Chelsea’s question, so they couldn’t get an outright admission that he was breaking the law, but his non-answer was, in fact, answer enough.
“How do we get an appointment at this clinic?” Josiah asked.
“I’ve already put your name on the list,” the doctor assured him. “You understand that since this is a private clinic, the costs might be a little higher than if you were to wait for an organ through more traditional means.”
Not a little higher. Way higher. Given the cost of receiving a transplant was already astronomical, he had no doubt the costs of buying a black-market organ would be in the millions. Not that it mattered to them, Prey would foot the bill, and once the trafficking ring was disassembled and Desiree Tilly and all who worked for her imprisoned, they would get the money back. No doubt get all the money the ring had and use it in some way tohelp the families of those who had perished at the ring’s hands and those who had survived their horrors.
“Money is not an issue,” he said, a little surprised by how strong and confident the words came out. They were what the doctor needed to hear him say to ensure they got themselves a meeting with this “clinic,” but he also meant it with absolute honesty. When it came to Chelsea’s safety, there was nothing he wouldn't pay or do to ensure it.
“I'm happy to hear that, Mr. Fleet, very happy to hear that. If you're happy to proceed, I will ensure all of Mrs. Fleet’s records are sent to the clinic so we can begin the search for a match of our own. Of course, she will be kept on the more traditional lists as well. Best of both worlds.”
“Do it,” he agreed. “I won't lose my wife.” Chelsea might not really be his wife, but he couldn’t lose her. She was the only sunshine left in his life, and these last few days had forced him to confront feelings he usually kept buried with ease. He just had no idea what place she had in his life or what place he wanted her to have.
May 14th
4:58 P.M.
“So …” Josiah said slowly as they both climbed out of the car.
“Yeah?” Chelsea prompted when he didn't continue. She was worn out after this afternoon’s appointment. It had gone so much better than they could have hoped for, pretty much as perfect as possible, but it had been exhausting. Making sure that every word out of her mouth was appropriate and what one would really say if they were truly in the situation she waspretending to be in. Balancing knowing about the ring, but Dr. Wood now coming right out and admitting he was part of it, monitoring every facial expression, and the pressure not to fail, it had worn her down.
Now they were back at their rented townhouse, she expected Josiah to go and hide out in the gym like he usually did, and she intended to take a nap. Since she had no idea if he’d eat dinner with her or not, she would probably make something quick and easy, but right now she was too nauseous to worry about food.
“Did you want to … if you weren't planning on doing anything else … I was wondering if you wanted to …” Josiah rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, his gaze darting about like he was nervous.
And he was.
Her big, tough, standoffish, always in a bad mood, retired Navy SEAL was nervous.
Amused, Chelsea held back a giggle, she didn't want to put him off whatever it was he was trying to ask, because she was dying to know what it was.
“I don’t have plans,” she supplied, not real ones anyway. A nap could definitely wait until later, and while she wasn't feeling amazing, she wasn't feeling so bad that she couldn’t do whatever it was Josiah was trying to ask her to do.
“I was thinking maybe we could celebrate. Our success. Like you wanted to the other day.” Josiah said the words cautiously, almost like they tasted foreign in his mouth. It was also pretty clear that he was expecting her to say no, like he’d already blown his chance by taking himself off to the gym after yesterday’s appointment with Dr. Wood.
Only there was no way he could ever blow his chances with her.
