The Gender Experiment: (A Thriller) by L.J. Sellers Page A

message on my phone. I have the list in my car.”
    “Why did you want to know about the other kids born that year?” Detective Miller had softened his face and tone. “What’s so special about them?”
    This was the quicksand, and she had no choice but to step in. “I think they all share some abnormalities. There wasn’t just one body that came into the morgue. A few weeks earlier, another young man with a similar body died in a fall from his balcony. He’d been born that same year to a clinic patient.”
    A long silence.
    Blunt looked disgusted, and Miller looked skeptical. “What are you saying? You think those deaths weren’t accidents?”
    “It seemed too strange to be coincidence.”
    Blunt crossed his arms and shook his head. “This is a bullshit distraction. What’s your connection to Bonnie Yost?”
    “None. Other than she worked at the clinic and sent me the list of babies born in 1996.”
    Miller jumped back in. “Tell us what happened when you went to see Bonnie.”
    “Nothing! She didn’t come to the door. I was worried about her, so I looked in the window and saw her on the floor with all the blood. I knew she was dead.” This part was embarrassing, and Taylor felt her cheeks flush. “I panicked and drove back to Denver. But I did call 9-11 and report it.”
    “You never went inside?”
    “No.”
    “Why were you worried?”
    “Because Bonnie retired suddenly. Because two guys born that year were dead. Bonnie had tried to help me, and I thought maybe someone had silenced her too.”
    “Okay, that’s enough.” Detective Blunt stood. “We’re not entertaining any conspiracy theory bullshit. When you’re ready to tell the truth, we’ll be back.” He tapped his partner’s arm. Miller hesitated, then got up, and they both walked out.
    Oh god.
They were going to leave her here in this windowless little hole, handcuffed and hungry for days. They would break her down. Taylor fought the tears, but they came anyway.

Chapter 15
    The intensity of the security alarm unnerved him. So much louder than he’d braced for. Jake ran along the back of the building, hoping Taylor had made it out. He rounded the corner but didn’t see her anywhere. Worried that the staff was looking for him—or even at him through the windows—he crossed the parking lot and took cover behind a minivan. He sent Taylor a quick text:
I’m out. Side parking lot.
    She didn’t respond, so he called. No answer. Jake moved along behind the row of cars until he could see the front of the building. Two men walked with Taylor, who was handcuffed. She was being arrested!
Shit!
How had the police arrived so quickly?
    If they hadn’t already detained her, he would have tried to distract them and give her a chance to get away. But those weren’t uniformed officers. They wore suits. Detectives didn’t respond to trespassing or theft crimes. Her arrest had to be about the receptionist’s death, and Taylor was probably terrified. He shouldn’t have encouraged her to come back here.
    His guilt was interrupted by the sight of someone in dark clothes barreling toward him from the back of the building. The man had a fierce expression and didn’t look like a clinic staffer… or a cop. Was that a gun at his side?
    Run!
    Jake leapt over the low-growing hedge dividing the two properties and sprinted across the back lot of the carwash next door. A neighboring concrete building blocked his path, so he rounded the corner of the carwash to head for the street. A glance over his shoulder escalated his fear. The man was coming after him! He had to be the killer.
    At the sidewalk, Jake turned away from the clinic and ran for his life. The guy wouldn’t murder him in plain view of passing traffic, would he? Taylor’s car was around here somewhere, but he didn’t have a key. He either had to put distance between him and the hit man or find a great place to hide. Or both.
    At the corner, he spotted a grocery store. Jake pumped his arms and