The Other Daughter by Lisa Gardner Page B

the room, David knew the most about Dr. Harper Stokes — he'd spent the past three weeks compiling a file on the man. Considered a brilliant surgeon by many, he'd recently been anointed the top cardiac surgeon in a town known for its surgeons. Others alleged he was an egomaniac, that his zealousness to heal had more to do with the recognition it brought him than honest interest in his patients. Given the growing Hollywoodization of hospital surgery, David found that a tough call to make. Most cardiac surgeons these days were after fame or fortune. After all, there were NBA athletes courted less aggressively than a good, charismatic surgeon who could bring in the bucks.
    The only thing different David could find out about Dr. Harper Stokes was his background. In a day and age when a surgeon's career track started at the age of eighteen with enrollment in an Ivy League college, Dr. Stokes's academic career was mediocre at best. He'd graduated from Texas A&M at the middle of his class. He hadn't gotten into any of the top twenty medical schools, having to settle for his local “safety school,” Sam Houston University. There, he'd been known more for his upscale wardrobe and dogged work ethic than for a gift for surgery.
    Oddly enough, the single event that seemed to transform Harper Stokes from average resident to surgeon extraordinaire was the kidnapping of his daughter. His personal life had disintegrated, and he had turned to work. The more chaotic the Stokeses' world became, the more time Harper spent in the hospital, where he did have the power to heal and redeem, and, what the hell, play God.
    Russell Lee Holmes may have destroyed a family, but in a strange way he had also created one topnotch surgeon.
    Recently the FBI had received three phone calls on the healthcare fraud hotline about Boston's number one cardiac man. Someone thought Harper's pacemaker surgeries were questionable. At this point in the investigation, David had no idea. Could be just a jealous rival blowing smoke. Could be that the doctor had come up with a way to make a few extra bucks — God knows the Stokeses lived high enough on the hog.
    So far the only dirt David had found on the man was his penchant for beautiful women. Even that didn't seem to be much of a secret. He went out with his pieces of pretty young fluff; his wife kept looking the other way. Lots of marriages worked like that.
    “But why was Melanie in the park?” Harper was asking with a frown, jerking David's attention back to the cramped bedroom.
    Melanie answered first. “I wanted some fresh air. I was going to step out for only a moment.”
    “I happened to notice her leaving the house,” David said. “When she hadn't returned for a while, I decided to see if everything was all right. I heard the sound of someone being ill across the street and found her.”
    Harper remained frowning, then turned to his daughter with a mixture of genuine concern and reproach. “You've been pushing yourself too hard, Melanie. You know what stress can do to you. You have to remember to monitor your level of anxiety. For heaven's sake, your mom and I would've helped you more if you'd just said something—”
    “I know.”
    “You take too much upon yourself.”
    “I know.”
    “It's not healthy, young lady.”
    Melanie smiled wryly. “Would you believe I get it from you?”
    Harper harrumphed but appeared honestly sheepish. He glanced at his wife, and the two of them exchanged a look David couldn't read.
    “We should let her rest,” Patricia said. “Honey, you just get some sleep, relax. Your father and I will handle everything downstairs.”
    “It's my job,” Melanie tried to protest, but the pills were getting the better of her, making her eyelids droop. She made an effort at sitting up in the bed, but didn't even make it past halfway. Finally she curled up in a little ball in the middle of the big sleigh bed. She looked frailer than she had standing up to the reporter. She