Scent of Danger

"Wait a minute." Whitman blocked her path. "I resent the hell out of that. Yeah, we have our qualms about Dylan Newport, but that's all they are—qualms. We have qualms about a bunch of people. And we're investigating every one of them—every person who might have a grudge against him, every individual who might gain something from his death. Until we find a theory that's fact, this case will stay wide open—and so will our minds. We're very good at our job. We will find the person who did this. So tell Mr. Newport not to be so damned paranoid, and not to bitch about how we're conducting our investigation."

Sabrina stared Whitman down. "He hasn't bitched, at least not to me. If he does, I'll pass along your message. In the meantime, I've had enough for one day. I'm exhausted. I'm going to get some rest. I'll be back at the hospital later this evening. If you need to reach me before then, I'm staying at the Plaza Athenée."

"Until when?"

"I haven't set a departure date."

"Does that mean you're planning to be tissue-typed? Have you decided to volunteer one of your kidneys to your father?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead. When I do, I'll let you know. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Sabrina sidestepped Detective Whitman and walked out.

CHAPTER 10

4:15 P.M.

Rockport, Massachusetts

Gloria put down her sketch, which was less inspiring than anything she'd done since she was a first-year design student. It was no use. She couldn't concentrate. Not with all that was going on.

She went into the kitchen, made herself a cup of tea, then curled up on the sofa to drink it and think. The phone call from Sabrina hadn't held any major surprises. She'd met Carson Brooks. She'd been moved by the experience, whether or not she chose to admit it. She'd been sucked up into a vortex of activity and emotion, and they both knew how it was all going to play out, at least as far as Sabrina's decision was concerned.

No, none of that was a surprise.

It was the speed with which everything was unraveling that was alarming. The police interrogation, the media clustered outside the hospital, the sacrifice that Sabrina was going to have to make without being given nearly enough time to prepare herself.

Gloria's hand trembled on her cup. She'd restrained herself from getting involved as long as she could.

She had to fly back to New York.

It was inevitable, really. Those detectives would be contacting her soon enough anyway, and it would make things easier if she talked to mem in Manhattan rather than here. It would, at least, keep her parents removed from the heart of the scandal. As it was, she had to stop off and see them on her way to the airport, break the news to them about what was going on.

She could hardly wait.

Sighing, she put down the cup and massaged her temples. Twenty-eight years was a long time, but a person didn't forget a pivotal milestone like the one that had started all this and, ultimately, created Sabrina. Gloria hadn't come to her decision lightly. Donor insemination was still somewhat of an eyebrow-raiser in the mid-seventies, even when the patties involved were a married couple. But for an unmarried woman such as herself, one who wanted to bear and raise a child alone, it was a major tongue-wagger. Which to her parents, who were so enmeshed in their Beacon Hill world, translated into scandalous behavior.

Then again, they'd come to expect that kind of behavior from Gloria. She'd always been a maverick. Growing up in the fifties, coming into her own in the sixties, she was too intelligent for a woman, too outspoken to keep her opinions to herself, too creative to fit in, too beautiful and well bred to abandon the country club life and—sin of all sins—become an artistic bohemian rather than an affluent housewife.

Of course she would have preferred finding the right man—one who loved her for who she was, rather than who he wanted to make her. But that wasn't in the cards. She knew that early on. She was too much the free spirit, too individualistic. Finding her soul mate would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Time didn't prove her wrong. Every man she got involved with was a colossal disappointment. They either wanted to possess her or to change her. She could abide neither.

So marriage was out But, oh, how she wanted a child—one she could bond with through pregnancy and childhood; one she could love, give every emotional and intellectual advantage to, and encourage to be his or her own person. She had so much to offer. And if she could only integrate her own attributes with those of someone who was equally dynamic but different from her, with entirely distinctive traits of his own—what an extraordinary child she could share with the world.

With that thought, the idea was born.

And so, at the age of thirty-three, with her bio-clock ticking loudly in her ear, Gloria had taken the plunge.

Finding the right doctor had been imperative. He had to be an accomplished fertility specialist, as well as open-minded, and discreet Because the path she was taking was far more unorthodox than the customary one in which you paid the donor a nominal fee, got him to relinquish all paternal rights and—with a topical knowledge of the donor's background, interests, and profession, along with his clean bill of health and basic specs—you went for it.

Even now, she smiled, remembering how intrigued Dr. Oldsman had been by the intricacy of her plan. He'd chuckled, saying it was stretching the boundaries but not breaking the rules. Sure, offering twenty thousand dollars to a sperm donor was outrageous. But given how specific she was about what she wanted for the father of her child, how high she'd set the bar, and how extensive was the testing and paperwork she required, it was understandable. And since she had the luxury of money on her side, why not use it to her advantage?

Her criteria had been lofty, but clear. The donor had to be exceptional, both physically and mentally. He had to have strengths that would augment hers; a scientific mind to offset her creative one, and an ambition level as fiery as her own. She wanted to maximize her child's chances of being successful, no matter what direction he or she took.

Each donor was, of course, required to submit to an extensive medical examination. But that was just the beginning. He was also required to take various exams testing his knowledge and intellectual abilities, plus he had to participate in a personal interview with Dr. Oldsman, the transcript of which—with the full knowledge and consent of the donor—was given to Gloria for review. Last but not least, each donor was required to fill out a questionnaire, supplied by Gloria, one that explored his talents and aspirations.

Gloria pored over each candidate's questionnaire and interview transcript. She also scrutinized his test results—medical and intellectual—looking for just the right combination of qualities.