position, I always have to consider the hospital’s liability.”
“What liability?” Casey asked.
Prescott shrugged. “The family? Privacy issues? I’d like to help, but I’ll have to talk to our lawyer and get his thoughts.”
“Maybe you could give him a call?” Jake said, nudging Casey with his foot under the table. “We’d really appreciate it. We
don’t want to put you in a bad spot, but obviously, it’s pretty important.”
Prescott grinned at Jake then swiveled around, removing a phone from the side table and setting it in front of him. “Let me
try.”
Jake winked at her and Casey sat as patient as she could while she listened to the hospital president talking to his lawyer,
explaining the situation, and then going through many of the facts again. Casey took a deep breath and let it out through
her teeth.
Finally, Prescott hung up, looked sadly at Jake, and shook his head. “Sorry, Mr. Carlson. As I thought, we’d need a court
order or a signed release from the victim’s family to give you any kind of information. We can’t do anything without either
of those and avoid the liability.”
Casey clamped her teeth shut and stood so she wouldn’t blurt out anything offensive.
“Sure thing,” Jake said, rising as well and shaking the president’s hand. “Could you do me a favor, though? If Ms. Jordan
was to go to the trouble to get this order, could you just tell us if you thought we’d be wasting our time?”
The doctor puffed out his lips and slipped on a pair of reading glasses as he turned to his computer screen. He pecked away
at the keyboard for several minutes, frowning at the screen.
Finally, he looked up at Jake with the hint of smile and said, “I don’t think you’d be disappointed.”
12
W HEN THEY GOT outside, Casey searched the street and marched over to the pewter Lexus, knocking on Ralph’s window. It hummed
down and Ralph looked up at her with a blank expression.
“I got something for you,” Casey said.
Ralph nodded, but said nothing.
“Cassandra Thornton,” Casey said, “the woman Dwayne Hubbard went to jail for? See if you can find her relatives and ask them
if they’ll sign a release that gives us access to her hospital records the night she was killed.”
Ralph squinted at Jake, then nodded and said, “We can do that.”
“Great,” Casey said. She turned and crossed the street with Jake, taking out her phone and dialing Marty Barrone. He was in
his office, which was less than three blocks away. They left Jake’s car on the street and walked to the office, taking an
elevator up to the third floor. The offices of Barrone & Barrone were nice enough for a high-end firm in Manhattan. Blond
wood and contemporary leather chairs had just the right blend of sophistication and success, with some subtle modern art to
suggest a progressiveness she didn’t expect to find in Auburn, New York. Marty’s office, however, was a small space with a
narrow window. Casey and Jake barely had room for their knees as they sat in chairs facing his desk with their backs to a
bookcase.
He had one of those posters on the wall about success, with an eagle soaring in the clouds. The poster was a bit sun-faded
and showed it had been tacked to a wall before being framed.
“My fiancée is going to flip,” Marty said, sitting down across from them, wagging his head, and talking fast. “I wish I had
a dollar for every time Linda told me about one of your stories and how great you are. I usually golf with my dad and uncle
on Sundays, but she TiVo’s them and makes me watch. Not that I don’t want to watch, but hitting it around on Sundays kind
of goes along with the program around here. Jeez, man. Did that nun really rock out like that? She was amazing when she played
‘Stairway to Heaven.’ ”
Casey sighed. “Okay, Marty, we need to get Judge Kollar to give us an order. We need to compel the Auburn Hospital to give
up swab
“What liability?” Casey asked.
Prescott shrugged. “The family? Privacy issues? I’d like to help, but I’ll have to talk to our lawyer and get his thoughts.”
“Maybe you could give him a call?” Jake said, nudging Casey with his foot under the table. “We’d really appreciate it. We
don’t want to put you in a bad spot, but obviously, it’s pretty important.”
Prescott grinned at Jake then swiveled around, removing a phone from the side table and setting it in front of him. “Let me
try.”
Jake winked at her and Casey sat as patient as she could while she listened to the hospital president talking to his lawyer,
explaining the situation, and then going through many of the facts again. Casey took a deep breath and let it out through
her teeth.
Finally, Prescott hung up, looked sadly at Jake, and shook his head. “Sorry, Mr. Carlson. As I thought, we’d need a court
order or a signed release from the victim’s family to give you any kind of information. We can’t do anything without either
of those and avoid the liability.”
Casey clamped her teeth shut and stood so she wouldn’t blurt out anything offensive.
“Sure thing,” Jake said, rising as well and shaking the president’s hand. “Could you do me a favor, though? If Ms. Jordan
was to go to the trouble to get this order, could you just tell us if you thought we’d be wasting our time?”
The doctor puffed out his lips and slipped on a pair of reading glasses as he turned to his computer screen. He pecked away
at the keyboard for several minutes, frowning at the screen.
Finally, he looked up at Jake with the hint of smile and said, “I don’t think you’d be disappointed.”
12
W HEN THEY GOT outside, Casey searched the street and marched over to the pewter Lexus, knocking on Ralph’s window. It hummed
down and Ralph looked up at her with a blank expression.
“I got something for you,” Casey said.
Ralph nodded, but said nothing.
“Cassandra Thornton,” Casey said, “the woman Dwayne Hubbard went to jail for? See if you can find her relatives and ask them
if they’ll sign a release that gives us access to her hospital records the night she was killed.”
Ralph squinted at Jake, then nodded and said, “We can do that.”
“Great,” Casey said. She turned and crossed the street with Jake, taking out her phone and dialing Marty Barrone. He was in
his office, which was less than three blocks away. They left Jake’s car on the street and walked to the office, taking an
elevator up to the third floor. The offices of Barrone & Barrone were nice enough for a high-end firm in Manhattan. Blond
wood and contemporary leather chairs had just the right blend of sophistication and success, with some subtle modern art to
suggest a progressiveness she didn’t expect to find in Auburn, New York. Marty’s office, however, was a small space with a
narrow window. Casey and Jake barely had room for their knees as they sat in chairs facing his desk with their backs to a
bookcase.
He had one of those posters on the wall about success, with an eagle soaring in the clouds. The poster was a bit sun-faded
and showed it had been tacked to a wall before being framed.
“My fiancée is going to flip,” Marty said, sitting down across from them, wagging his head, and talking fast. “I wish I had
a dollar for every time Linda told me about one of your stories and how great you are. I usually golf with my dad and uncle
on Sundays, but she TiVo’s them and makes me watch. Not that I don’t want to watch, but hitting it around on Sundays kind
of goes along with the program around here. Jeez, man. Did that nun really rock out like that? She was amazing when she played
‘Stairway to Heaven.’ ”
Casey sighed. “Okay, Marty, we need to get Judge Kollar to give us an order. We need to compel the Auburn Hospital to give
up swab
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