The vault. She would have reason to go inside it.
Her heart thundered, a deafening pounding in her chest. What had been denied her all her life was within her reach—because in the vault was her mother’s medical file, detailing her artificial insemination.
A hundred times Sara Beth had almost asked Lisa to help her find that file, and a hundred times she’d decided not to risk their friendship by asking. Lisa never could have allowed it, even for her very best friend.
And now, if Sara Beth was lucky, she could find a reference to the name of the man who’d donated the sperm that had given her life.
Forget paper hearts. This could be her red-letter day.
Chapter Two
Ted stopped talking when he saw Sara Beth tune out, something that usually only happened to him when he was explaining data or experiment results, which wasn’t the case this time. He’d only been telling her what tasks in the investigation she could take on in order to speed things up.
She was looking straight at him, her dark brown eyes glazed over. Should he wait for her to refocus or try to snap her out of it?
He decided to give her a moment, noting that she looked different today. Younger.
Her hair was down and loose—that was it. She usually had it pulled back in a braid as no-nonsense as her personality. Not that she was cold, but professional. Always. At least with him. He’d perceived her as shy at first, then had seen her interact with others and was bewildered by how she always seemed to avoid him.
She’d caught his eye, of course, during the months he’d been working at the institute, but he’d seen what could happen when coworkers got involved romantically, so he’d avoided even engaging her in conversation, taking away any possibility of temptation at all.
When he and Chance had accepted the offer to come to Cambridge to continue their research, he’d vowed to himself that he would try to be more aware of the world around him, to be more social, but that plan had been foiled almost immediately. He’d questioned the institute’s various protocols, finding some statistics that didn’t seem feasible, exaggerating the institute’s success rate. Although he and Chance hadn’t been involved in or responsible for the questionable issues, it was up to them to find the answers.
For Ted, work was all consuming. His research to find a reliable way to treat male infertility took precedence, but clearing up the protocol issues came a close second. As for a personal life, he didn’t have one, and couldn’t figure out how Chance managed to have his practice, do research and still have time to date. Ted couldn’t manage all that.
He finally waved a hand in front of Sara Beth’s face.
She jerked back slightly, her cheeks brightening. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where I went. You were saying?”
“You wanted to know what your duties would entail. I spelled them out.”
“Specifically what will I be looking for?”
He gestured her toward a tall lab chair, then sat in the one beside it. “Do you know what I found? What I’m trying to verify?”
“I’d like to hear your take on it.”
He got distracted by her sneakers, which she propped on the bottom rung, their scuffed toes at odds with her usually impeccable appearance. “You graduated from BC?” he asked, glancing at her T-shirt imprinted with the Boston College’s flying eagle mascot, Baldwin.
She frowned at the change of subject. “From the Connell School of Nursing, yes. The institute gave me a full scholarship.”
“I would venture to say you earned a full scholarship.”
She seemed to relax for the first time since she’d walked into the lab. “I always loved to study.”
“Me, too. I still do.”
She gave him a knowing smile, as if he’d stated the obvious, which he supposed he had. He much preferred the confines of his lab to dealing with patients on a daily basis. He hated imparting bad news. And in the infertility business, bad news came frequently. He was happier in the lab.
“So, you were going to tell me about what you found,” Sara Beth prompted.
“Shortly after Chance and I came on board here, we discovered that some of the lab’s protocols weren’t measuring up. Data was incomplete or missing. Statistics weren’t matching results. Just as we were digging into the problems, Keeping Up with Medicine ran that story alleging that donor eggs and sperm had been switched for some clients, which raised all sorts of ethical questions about how we do business.”
“The article never named the source of the allegations.”
“Nor confirmed them. Then they were proved unfounded and a retraction was made. But at the same time that we were working on that issue, we discovered an out-of-the-ordinary number of multiple births following in vitro over the past few years.”
“Which means what?”
“Numbers that big could pad the institute’s statistics, making the program seem more successful than it is. We have standards about how many embryos to implant. It looks like the standards might have been ignored. Because of the unusual success rate, the institute was able to obtain a lot more private donations and grant money than usual. Now the numbers are being challenged, and rightfully so.”
What he wasn’t telling her was that every step he’d taken to resolve the problems had been met with resistance by Derek Armstrong, Paul and Lisa’s brother and the institute’s CFO. Chance was the only person Ted had confided in about that—so far. He couldn’t make accusations without proof, but Ted suspected Derek was involved somehow, whether as part of a cover-up or something even worse.
“So, first of all,” Ted continued, “we need to prove or disprove the statistics. Then we need to create a best-practices manual of lab protocols, so if we’re ever questioned again, the answers will be readily available and backed up. I can use all the help I can get. The institute’s reputation is on the line, but so is my ability to continue my research.”
She rubbed her hands together, as if anxious to get started right away. “I’ll check the appointment schedule for the rest of the week and see what I can do to rearrange things and free myself up. Would you prefer morning or afternoon?”
“First thing in the morning.”
She climbed off the chair and stuck out her hand. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He stayed seated, keeping himself closer to eye level. Her hand felt small in his, and warm, but also firm and direct. One of the traits he valued most in people was competency. She hadn’t been promoted to head nurse without proving her competency. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Sara Beth.”
“Thank you. I feel the same.”
He believed it. Her expression showed anticipation, as if she really couldn’t wait to get started. He’d tried to get across to her how tedious the work would be, especially if she had to work with the old files in the vault, poring over the folders. Well, she’d find out soon enough.
