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called our records division and requested them to find any information, including phone numbers, on Dr. Donovan Esposito and Dr. Neal Schmidt. The clerk said she would call me in my office shortly. I anticipated at least a forty-five minute wait. My office phone was ringing when I arrived on station a few minutes later. The clerk had found the requested information in less than fifteen minutes—a new world’s record.
    My watch showed four thirty a.m. It would be quite rude to call these doctors at this hour of the morning. Hell with it! I thought, before picking upthe phone and dialing Donovan Esposito’s number. It rang several times before a groggy-sounding woman answered. After informing her who was calling, I requested Dr. Esposito.
    “Lady, do you know what time it is?” She sounded more awake.
    “It’s Sergeant, and yes, I can tell time.”
    “Miracles never cease,” she whispered flippantly. “My husband is sound asleep, and unless you have a good reason for calling, you’ll have to contact him tomorrow during office hours.”
    “I’ll let you decide if this is a good enough reason. I have two dead bodies that each had a major organ removed—while they were still alive, no doubt. I was just made aware of your husband’s tissue-donor side job today and feel he may have the answers to some quite important questions. To sum it up, your husband is the closest thing to a witness, or a suspect, that I have. Now, I can certainly subpoena all of his medical records and possibly serve a search warrant on his office if that’s the route he chooses,” I said wryly.
    “Oh, please, spare me the drama,” she snipped. “Hold on.”
    The sounds of Mrs. Esposito attempting to rouse her husband came loudly through the phone. After a few grunts and groans, I could clearly hear her relaying our conversation to him.
    She ended it with “…she threatened to serve a search warrant on your office. She’s a real bitch.”
    The feeling’s mutual, lady , I thought. After a few coughs and obscenities, Donovan Esposito picked up the phone.
    “This is Dr. Esposito. What do you want?” He was pissed.
    “Dr. Esposito, this is Sergeant Gallagher…” I began, in my most enchanting voice.
    After informing him of the homicides, I made a futile attempt to contradict his wife’s interpretation of our conversation.
    “Doctor, I couldn’t help but overhear your wife telling you I threatened a search warrant. Perhaps she misunderstood. I was merely telling her about standard procedures in a homicide investigation, and how I would very much like to avoid something like that. If you can only imagine the amount of paperwork involved, it’s horrible. That said, I was wondering if I could meet with you sometime this morning so we could talk.” I was disgustingly charismatic.
    “Well, I suppose I could give you half an hour during lunchtime.” His voice softened considerably. “But you’d have to meet me here, in Cleveland. I can’t possibly take the time to drive down there today. I have a full schedule.”
    Mission accomplished. We arranged to meet at his office at noon. I went even further and asked if it was possible that Dr. Schmidt could join us. He didn’t think it would be a problem but couldn’t guarantee anything.
    Since my trip to Cleveland was several hours away, I utilized the remaining time to catch a few hours of sleep. Naomi was still out on the homicide scene, so leaving a message on her voice mail informing her of my impending interview would have to suffice. Michael was already awake and ready to leave when I got home, a quick opportunity to suggest a lunch date later.
    “I can’t, Cee. I’m busy all day and probably won’t even eat lunch.”
    “I just thought, since I would be up there, it would be nice to see you, is all.” I sighed. “I feel like we hardly see each other anymore.”
    “I’m sorry, baby.” He put his strong, muscular arms around me. “I promise again, this will all be over