Unlawful Harvest by P.D. Workman

Author:P.D. Workman [Workman, P.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: P.D. Workman

22

MacKenzie had to hurry to get herself ready for supper. It was a three-hour drive to get to Hopewell, so if she wanted to make it on time, she had to leave within half an hour. But she’d gotten herself dolled up for a date in less time than that. She needed a dress that she could sit in for a number of hours without it seeming rumpled, so she looked through her closet quickly to find a black cocktail dress that had done well for her on other occasions. She threw a toothbrush and a few other items in an overnight bag, figuring she wouldn’t be making the three-hour drive back after supper concluded at ten-thirty or later. Then she hopped into her car and was on her way.

At first, she drove with the radio on, but after a while it began to bother her. She was trying to think through what she knew about the Forsberg Clinic, to marshal all of the arguments that what they were doing was unethical and crossed the line against the arguments that the service they were providing saved lives both abroad and domestic, and that if people were prepared to pay the rates that were being discussed, there shouldn’t be any impediment to their seeking the services overseas and leaving US kidneys in the US for domestic transplant. Was the clinic operating in a gray area? That much seemed clear. But she wasn’t sure how dark that gray was, and if they had crossed into black, harming the transplant recipients they were supposed to be saving. Or if the pictures were what they appeared to be.

She reached the Hampshire House in good time. She introduced herself to the maître d’, and he escorted her to her table. John Hopewell was already there ahead of her. He jumped to his feet and gave a little bow as the maître d’ pulled out MacKenzie’s chair for her.

“Miss Kirsch. It was very gracious of you to join me like this. I know making a trip like this on a whim isn’t easy, but I appreciate your willingness.”

“Of course.”

She studied him as she sat down. He was skinny and pale. While a young man, his hair appeared to be thinning. It was hard to tell in the dimly lit dining room, she thought that his skin seemed yellowish. She put him at perhaps twenty-five years of age, yet at a quick glance he easily looked forty.

They discussed the weather and the menu. Hopewell ordered wine and then wouldn’t touch it himself. “I have to be careful,” he said obliquely, not offering any real explanation. MacKenzie felt awkward drinking without him, so she barely touched the wine herself, and the bottle sat there, getting gradually warmer as the evening wore on.

“I was hoping that you could tell me some details about your transplant surgery,” MacKenzie said after a while. “I have run into a few… irregularities in my review of the Forsberg Clinic and I wanted to

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