Page 88 of I’ll Be Watching You

“Lu is there,” Jack said. “She can handle it tonight. You should go home and sleep.”

“Who’s going to watch Lu’s back?” Nate said. “I already called an Uber—they just pulled up.” He gave us a half salute and left.

“Interesting guy,” Cal said, getting up to set the alarm while giving me a dirty look that I hadn’t done it.

“He spent more time at our house than his growing up,” Jack said. “His parents were assholes. He would hop our fence and sleep on the patio when they kicked him out.”

“I remember,” I said. “Scared the bejesus out of Mom a few times.”

“He enlisted the day he turned eighteen, and left for boot camp the week after graduation,” Jack said. “If he didn’t have the military, he probably would be dead or in jail by now.”

Jack got up. “I have to go too. Thanks for dessert, Cal.” He gave Cal a long look, as if they were communicating silently so I wouldn’t know.

I rolled my eyes. “Out,” I said. “I’ll call first thing in the morning and we can split the list of possible suspects. I think Lu would be better to go to the rehab center with Nate to visit Novak. She understands the medical files, maybe she can get someone to explain how medical records can be flagged—or deleted without a trace.”

“There’s always a trace,” Cal said.

“That’s what Lu says. But this time, I don’t know.”

Chapter Thirty

Luisa Angelhart

Luisa insisted on driving to Honor House Cave Creek. She didn’t want Nate with her, but there really wasn’t a better option. He’d made the connection to Jim Novak.

They drove onto the grounds, which, though not gated, had ample security cameras, and the building itself was secure. A sprawling one-story structure that blended in well with the desert environment. Lu had read up about the facility. They specialized in thirty-, sixty-, and ninety-day drug and alcohol rehab programs for veterans only. They transitioned homeless vets who had successfully completed the program into one of the other Honor House facilities until they were fully back on their feet. A doctor was on-site 24/7 as well as many nurses, orderlies, and counselors. The difference with this facility was that the individual had to commit themselves for a minimum of thirty days; they couldn’t just leave because detox became difficult. Lu thought the quiet, peaceful environment lent itself to healing.

She didn’t talk much to Nate during the forty-minute drive from Tess’s house. She had nothing to say. Fortunately, he kicked back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes so she didn’t have to shut down any small talk.

Once they were allowed inside, a nurse—Peggy Vargas—came to talk to them. The first thing she said was that they wouldn’t be allowed to see Jim today. He was getting a complete physical, followed by a two-hour IV treatment for dehydration and malnutrition.

“But, Mr. Lorenzo, I talked to the night nurse and she told me what you did to get Mr. Novak here, and I’m sure Mr. Novak would like to see you. If the doctor clears it, we can arrange a meeting in the morning.”

“Were you able to get his medical records from the VA?” Luisa asked.

Peggy hesitated, then said, “No, we haven’t. Both the head of admitting and I have been working on it, but they claim there are no records for him. I suppose it’s possible he has never been in the facility, but highly unlikely considering the injuries he sustained that led to his discharge from the Navy.”

“He had an appointment there Monday,” Luisa said. After working through the worm she’d installed and talking to Dr. Pierce again last night, she had some knowledge about how electronic health records were handled. “How can a record just disappear?”

“It can’t. Sometimes a record may be accidentally altered—an encounter deleted—but it will show up in a records audit. There would also be a record to audit! But there appears to be nothing for Jim Novak. Fortunately, he had his VA card and identification in his wallet. There’s probably a logical explanation, such as a transposed number or letter. We’ll get it straightened out, I’m sure.”

“Can a record be deleted?”

“No. Well, except . . . but no.”

Lu’s instincts twitched. “Except what?” she pushed.

“Well, it’s the only explanation I can think of, but it would be difficult and doesn’t make much sense in this case. I don’t want to make assumptions that might get someone in trouble.”

“Run it by us,” Nate said, using his most charming smile. “We’re not going to get anyone in trouble, but Lieutenant Commander Novak needs his records. We want him to get healthy, and not go down the same path I got him off of last night.”

Peggy, an attractive brunette of at least fifty-five, fluttered her eyelashes and smiled shyly. Lu resisted the urge to roll her eyes or punch Nate. Everyone loved him. The strong, silent former sailor with the dreamy brown eyes.

Not dreamy. Boring, bland brown eyes.

“It’s near impossible to delete a record, and there would actually be a record of the deletion. But—and I’m just making a guess here—someone could merge two records.”

Luisa’s instincts did more than twitch, they jumped. This was it. This was why she kept running into a brick wall in the VA data.