“Just that they found a list in what they believe was Alex’s bedroom.”

“And what was on that list?”

“Names. Rinaldo, Mix, Zudak, Adams, Lucietta, Straus, Curtis, my parents, and me. Two of the names had been crossed out in what looked like blood. Adams and Curtis, two of the three killed so far.”

“No one else made the list?”

“I haven’t seen the list. Like I said, my parents had the talk with the cop, and they told me everything. At least it seemed like they told me everything.”

Derek opened his car door then paused in thought.

 “You mentioned that there were three murders. Adams and Curtis. Who was the third victim?”

“Don’t know. My parents told me that Fox said the other victim was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Do you know if Ralph Fox contacted the other doctors yet?”

“I have no idea. He just told my parents that he suspected that Alexander is my brother, that he killed three people, that he had a list of names, and that my parents and I were on the list.”

“I don’t understand why your parents made the list. Is there any way that they knew about Alexander and were part of the doctor’s plan?”

“No way. No way in the world,” Thomas said. “You should have seen their faces when they were telling me what Fox told them. That Alexander didn’t die on the operating table at Saint Stevens but was wanted for a triple murder.”

“Why do you think Alexander added your parents to the that list?”

“I have no idea. They weren’t involved at all and are as much of victims as Alexander. You know that my parents, especially my mom, visits the cemetery every week since Alexander died? Or at least, since they were told he died.”

“But I’m sure your parents were part of at least the decision to do the surgery that cut Alexander off from your heart? I’m not a doctor, but I have to believe that your parents had a voice in the decision.”

“Sure, but they have nothing to do with those bastards did after Alexander and I were separated.”

“How much did Fox tell you about what the doctors did?”

“My parents spent at least forty-five minutes on the phone with him. I never spoke with the guy. My parents filled me in with as much information as they could get from the talk with Fox. We still have way more questions than answers at this point.”

“Humor me, please, and tell me as many of the details of the conversation with your parents.”

“Fox told my parents that there was a strong possibility that their son Alexander did not die like the doctors at Saint Stevens said he had. He said that he was reading a lot of notes that went back to 1992 and had a lot of questions for all of the doctors.”

“And did he say what those notes contained?”

“He said that he didn’t know what to make of most of them. He said that it sounds like something ‘fishy’ happened, and he didn’t know what to believe yet. But, he was pretty certain that my brother was not dead. Too many notes referencing the doctors at Saint Stevens and my parents to not think Alexander was still alive.”

“Before your parents left,” Derek said, “you’re sure they didn’t contact any of the doctors from Saint Stevens?”

“The only calls I know they made were to my dad’s lawyer and to the airline.”

“When did their flight leave?” Derek questioned.

“About two hours before I met you here. They should land in another hour. Since I highly doubt Alexander, or whoever is behind these murders, will be able to find them, I don’t think it’s dangerous that you know where they are.”

“You never know, so please don’t tell me where they are staying. I know they’re in the Bahamas, but I don’t need to know exactly where. It’s a big ocean down there and lots of places to be.”

Derek sat behind his steering wheel, turned on the engine of his Buick, and nodded to Thomas.

“I will wait here till I see you get in your car, start it, and drive out of here. I will be in contact as needed. Get to where you’re going and stay there. Understood?”

“Got it. And Derek? Can I call you Derek?”

“Derek is fine.”

“If you do find Alexander, please don’t kill him. He is my brother, you know, and I’d actually like to meet him. I know my parents would too. At least my mom would. Honestly I’m not sure about how my dad feels.”

“You didn’t hire me to kill anyone, and I don’t kill people as a rule. All I care about is keeping you and your parents safe. Now go.”

“Okay. But if things get rough, please don’t kill Alex. Promise me.”

CHAPTER TEN

The man who answered the doorbell ring seemed disappointed. He had the look that only someone expecting someone else can display.

“Doctor Rinaldo?”

“Yes,” the aging man answered.

“My name is Derek Cole. I’m a freelance detective and have been hired by the O’Connells ...”

“Come in,” the doctor said as he dropped hold of the door handle, turned and shuffled back into his home. “I didn’t expect someone like you, but I’m not surprised, either.” His speech was slurred just enough that Derek could both fully understand his words and know that happy hour was growing long.

As Derek followed his host into the home, he could see that recent half-assed attempts had been made to clean the house. A single four-inch, arching, dust free path was clearly visible on the table that stood just inside of the double-door entry way. A discarded paper towel lay wadded up on the ground beneath the mirror that greeted visitors on the eastern wall of the entry. In the room to his right, a room Derek assumed to be a study, a Dyson vacuum cleaner was carelessly left, still plugged in and leaning against the far wall. On the study’s solid birch and mahogany desk, adorned with a MacKenzie Childs desk lamp, sat piles of paper that were spilled across the desk but still spoke of the days when they were never out of alignment.

Derek followed him through an entry way clearly designed to impress visitors and into the living room off to the left of the entry. Mark Rinaldo gestured with an indifferent hand towards a brown leather sofa as he dragged himself towards a Bristol leather accent chair that sat across from the sofa.