Clay by Jennifer Blake Page A

meant to be organ donors, or perhaps other cadavers in an organ-theft ring based in some big city hospital. Another possibility was that they were taken from living donors, third world citizens desperate enough to exchange a kidney for a ticket to a new life, or drug addicts willing to sell one for the price of a few weeks or months of fixes. Such possibilities haunted her waking hours, and were another reason she’d acted so recklessly where Clay was concerned. He was not only a good candidate for blood and tissue match, but he was obviously healthy so she need have no fear that either he or Lainey would be put at more risk than they could stand. The guilt she must live with over taking a kidney would be the same, but the potential benefits much greater.
    Or so she’d thought before the time had actuallycome to turn Clay over to Dr. Gower. “The longer we have to wait, Lainey and I, the more risk we all face,” Janna said at last. “That’s one advantage of this relative donor. Arrangements could be made almost immediately instead of depending on location of a compatible cadaver kidney.”
    “That’s no longer true.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I didn’t come here tonight solely because of your call or even the tournament. I have news, as well, the news you’ve been waiting so long to hear.”
    A fatalistic acceptance descended on Janna. “You have a compatible kidney now? It’s ready for Lainey?”
    The doctor smiled a little, though he didn’t answer directly. “How is the dear child? Well, I hope? No setbacks, no little illness that might make surgery problematical?”
    “Nothing. If you’d like to take a look at her…”
    “That won’t be possible under the circumstances.”
    “No, of course not.” She put her hand out to touch his arm under the smooth sleeve of his shirt. “I just—you are saying what I think, aren’t you?”
    “We’ve been promised a kidney.” Gower’s face softened and he covered her cool fingers with his own.
    Maybe this was better. Maybe it would cause fewer problems in the end. “Promised?”
    “Soon. Anita will be in touch. That is the good news. The bad news, I’m afraid, is that the price has gone up.”
    It was a moment before the last words penetrated. “Gone up? But I made the final payment last week, as agreed.”
    “I’m sorry. Anita insists that it’s necessary, and she handles financial matters for me, you know. You have to realize that it’s getting more and more difficult to arrange these things.”
    “Yes, but still.”
    “Your daughter isn’t my only transplant patient. I do my best to help everyone possible, in spite of heavy expenses—complicated delivery and preservation procedures for the precious kidneys, payoffs, security personnel, that sort of thing. The money must be found to take care of them.”
    She believed that he was sincere; it was there in his face and voice. She’d liked Dr. Gower well enough on the occasions when he had seen Lainey, and respected what he was trying to do for those who had nowhere else to turn. She’d often wondered what caused him to set up his transplant facility down near the Projects, whether it was pure altruism as Anita Fenton maintained, or alcohol, drugs, maybe even the lure of huge fees in the form of cash that he didn’t have to share with the IRS. He’d given her a cut-rate price at first because he was drawn to Lainey, she thought. Some of the patients to whom she whispered about such things during Lainey’s legitimate treatments had mentioned sums well over a hundred thousand for the clandestine transplant procedure. No price was too high for her daughter’s life, but Janna wondered now if the low initial price hadn’t been afraud, if she wasn’t being manipulated by her own desperation.
    As firmly as she was able, she said, “I don’t think I can pay more.”
    “You must, for your daughter’s sake. It will be an additional thirty percent.”
    Thirty percent.
    Thirty percent more.