Deadly Echoes by Philip Donlay Page B

just a research facility, how did you end up treating Garrick Pearce?”
    â€œThere was another facet to the clinic. There would be calls, mainly through Dr. Drescher. We’d treat people off the books, and every once in a while, we’d alter someone’s appearance.”
    â€œHow were these people referred?” Donovan asked.
    â€œI’m not sure, though I did overhear a heated conversation between Dr. Drescher and someone from Tel Aviv.”
    â€œTel Aviv?” Donovan interrupted. “As in Mossad?”
    â€œThat was my assumption, though Viktor would never confirm my suspicions.”
    â€œWhat made you finally leave Germany?”
    â€œI was having an affair with Dr. Klasen. He finally admitted to me that he would never leave his wife, though he’d told me a hundred times he didn’t love her and wanted to be with me. I was devastated, I felt betrayed, and I made some angry, mindless comments. Dr. Drescher threatened me, promised to destroy mycareer if I ruined Viktor’s marriage, or divulged anything I knew about the clinic. He scared me badly.”
    â€œBut they’re both dead now.”
    â€œWhen I left, I made a file to protect myself. I used Viktor’s password and made copies of every patient’s record. Each separate procedure, every before-and-after picture, names and dates, payment trails. I have in my possession every incriminating detail about their operation. Besides Garrick and Nikolett, there are exactly seventeen men and five women who have every reason to want me dead.”

CHAPTER TWELVE
    â€œI need to know,” Erica asked. “Are we still working together?”
    â€œYeah.” Donovan fired up the Porsche. “Let’s go back to Laguna Beach. We can check you into a hotel. You’ll be safe until we can figure out something longer term.”
    â€œI’m not sharing a hotel room with you, and I’m definitely not sitting in some strange hotel that takes cash and fake names. I’ve been invisible since I came back to the States seven months ago. I lived for three months on a boat in the Pacific Northwest; I bummed around Oregon and Northern California before coming to Orange County. I’m safe where I’ve been staying. Just get back on the San Diego Freeway.”
    â€œI don’t like that idea.”
    â€œNothing in the information you showed me mentions where I am. You only found me because I called you. I’ll feel safer in familiar surroundings. Don’t think for a moment that you have a vote in this. Now drive.”
    Donovan didn’t argue with her. He followed her directions in what seemed like a maze of apartments. He memorized street signs so he could find his way out, only to understand that she was driving him in circles. Finally, she motioned him to pull to the curb.
    â€œThis will work. I can walk from here.” Erica popped open the door and jumped out with her bag. “Drive two blocks up this street and then turn left. You’ll figure out how to get back to the highway from there.”
    â€œBe careful. I’ll be in touch tomorrow. Call if you change your mind.”
    â€œGo.” Erica closed the door.
    Donovan sped off. In the mirror, he saw her stand her ground, watching him leave. She was still standing there when he made his left turn. He’d traveled three more blocks when his phone rang. He glanced down and saw that it was Erica calling.
    â€œThat was quick,” he said as he answered.
    â€œSomeone was waiting for me. I’m running west of where you dropped me off. Oh, shit, he’s coming, hurry!”
    Donovan put the phone on speaker, hit the brakes, and cranked the steering wheel hard to the left. The car spun one hundred and eighty degrees. He downshifted and mashed the gas pedal to the floor. In seconds he flew through sixty miles per hour, reached the corner, switched off his headlights, and slammed on the brakes. He made the turn,