Page 86 of Booked for Kidnapping

“Precisely. You won’t be able to save everybody, but even those you can’t save will benefit; their families won’t pay as steep of a price when the medical bills come in. You’re setting an excellent example for others with what you have done. If you keep doing that, I think good things will happen.”

I could only hope.

If anyone expected me to remember anything, they would be disappointed. If I’d been in the home, I remembered nothing of it beyond the white walled room with its nest of pillows and blankets with an extensive collection of books and a connected bathroom. Dr. Castor made a Spanish dish consisting of chicken and a fire-red rice I worried might burn through her stoneware plates. For those who needed a little less spice, she served a milder yellow rice, which Bradley packed away with amusing enthusiasm.

She’d even modified her recipes to account for the variety of disorders plaguing the Hampton family, although she served dinner with lectures on proactive healthcare, the majority of which were likely targeted at me and my stubborn foot. All it had taken to redirect her lectures to the Hamptons had been mentioning librarians only got paid so much, and I thought I’d done pretty well with the budget I’d had.

To my amusement, she called Dr. Mansfield to confirm the reality of my budget, resulting in a tirade over the evils of profit-driven healthcare.

“I really like this woman,” I informed Bradley.

“Strangely, so do I.”

It made accusing her of a long-term kidnapping rather difficult. “Dr. Castor, how did you get access to Mr. Hampton’s medical record, anyway?”

“I asked for permission, received it, and contacted the appropriate sources for the files. Mr. Hampton kindly texted his doctor with his authorization, citing an emergency situation. That covered everything we needed to gain access to the files. All other files had prior patient authorization for being shared.”

Interesting. “Prior patient authorization?”

My future mother-in-law raised her hand. “That’s my fault. After we had some fun getting your medical file after the shooting, we signed prior authorization forms allowing any doctor with just cause to pull certain parts of your record out. You’ll want to do the same, but for obvious reasons, we couldn’t handle your file.”

Something about Mrs. Hampton’s tone implied she’d targeted some of the commentary in Dr. Castor’s direction.

I nodded and resumed stuffing as much of the spicy rice into my stomach as possible.

“I swear, some days, I raised a little lady, but others? I bred a starved animal shaped like a human,” my mother complained. “I’m expecting your kidnapper to send me a bill for having to feed you for that long. You probably ate them out of house and home. Maybe I should send a condolence card.”

I had no idea what I’d done to stir my mother’s ire, and I stared at her with wide eyes while I chewed, as she’d drag me over coals if I tried to talk while eating.

“I’m sure she wasn’t that bad,” Dr. Castor soothed. “She’s a lovely young woman with a healthy appetite and free rein to eat as much good food as she’d like. There’s plenty more rice and chicken where that came from, Janette, so don’t worry about a thing. That’s something I love about where I currently live in Europe when I’m not here. Feeding everyone is serious business, although we’re not quite on the same scale as some of my Italian friends. They’re delightful when they invite guests or family over.”

Mrs. Hampton smiled. “Dr. Castor, would you say the cost of the procedures on Janette’s foot would have cost around thirty million dollars?”

The woman snorted. “As billed by the hospitals and insurance companies? Even more expensive than that. It would have classified as a cosmetic procedure, which doubles the bill. But had it been classified as a mandatory operation to restore functionality, thirty million is not far off target.”

“Cosmetic?” my mother asked, her tone rather icy.

“Before the procedure, she could walk. At that stage, hospitals would begin forcing payments as cosmetic improvements rather than functional ones under some of the idiotic insurance rules they’ve passed. It wasn’t going to kill her, so she would have to pay for it if she wanted it.”

Damn. I peeked under the table to regard my shoes with interest. After swallowing, I said, “I really do have the most expensive foot ever. That’s kind of cool.” Amused over the changing of my fortunes, I went for another piece of the chicken, which lacked the rice’s heat but packed a general punch in the flavor and spice department.

Mrs. Hampton smiled, put her purse on her lap, and pulled out a checkbook. “So, should I cut that check out to you, then, Dr. Castor?”

I choked, and only a quick grab of a nearby napkin prevented someone from wearing my lunch. After making certain I wouldn’t inhale my chicken, I gulped it down and reached for my water, wheezing at my close brush with spicy death. Bradley likewise coughed, although he managed to swallow without risk of inhaling his food or spraying someone with his meal.

The doctor smiled and waved her hand. “What makes you think I am responsible?”

Everyone except me pointed at the patio door visible through an entertainment room, which led through the rose garden to the path at the beach. Then, with a smug smile, Mr. Hampton said, “It helps I own the security company that monitors your home. I personally reviewed the exterior cameras on the day Janette reached the library and got confirmation of the situation. I have to say, whomever your illusionist is? They’re exceptionally talented. Had they not missed the one security camera, we would have been left with questionable suspicions and no proof. Of course, that footage has suffered a mysterious accident so it won’t come back to bother me later, along with some other clips you might not appreciate showing up. I overwrote the feed with glitched footage, mimicking a camera issue. Unfortunately, we’ll have to do work on that camera to make certain it doesn’t suffer another glitch.”

“Of course, Mr. Hampton. It wouldn’t do if my security camera were to have random glitches. That’s perfectly reasonable.”

Wow. “I don’t know how you all are managing to keep your tones so damned neutral, but it’s as impressive as it is horrifying, so I kindly ask one of you begin showing some form of emotion before I become even more uncomfortable with the way this conversation is turning out,” I said, and then I leaned to Bradley and false-whispered, “Please don’t tell me your parents can actually afford thirty million dollars.”

“My mother does not pull out her checkbook without meaning it, so she has already transferred the amount for the check into the appropriate account.”

“Mom? Dad? I think we might need to leave the room so we don’t suffer from a heart attack. I think I need some time with my cat.” Ajani, who’d been welcomed into the doctor’s home with open arms, had started shedding on one of the couches, settling in for a hard-earned nap.

“Stay seated,” my mother ordered.