Page 9 of So Lethal (Faith Bold #22)

They stopped at a drive-thru on the way back, a hole-in-the-wall burger joint called Porky’s Patties.

It advertised its wares with a cartoonish smiling pig extending an impossibly greasy and impossibly colorful burger toward the viewer.

The restaurant itself was the opposite of colorful.

It was painted the greenish-tinged tan that was popular in the seventies, made more drab by decades of minimal maintenance and a liberal coating of dust. The health certificate in the front window proudly displayed a grade of A that Faith didn’t trust for a minute.

“You’re sure this place is healthy?” she asked.

“The sign is a picture of a cartoon pig shoving a greaseburger in your face,” Michael replied. “If you’re feeling like a salad, this is not the place to get it. On the other hand, if you want the best damned hamburger in the Bay Area, this is where you want to be.”

It did seem to be popular. There were eight cars ahead of them in line. Maybe that wasn’t much for a lunch rush, but it was a lot more than Faith would have expected. “An old favorite of yours, I’m guessing?”

“Oh yeah. This place used to be a small chain. There were eight locations in San Jose when I was growing up. It’s fallen on hard times, but the founder still keeps this one.

Trust me, it’s worth it.” He turned to her, “And anyway, when did you get so snooty? This place isn’t any dirtier than the cheesesteak place you go to by your place. ”

Faith shrugged. “I guess the pig just threw me off.”

“Yeah, he’s a pretty aggressive advertisement,” Michael agreed. “But trust me, he’s worth it.”

They moved forward a car length, and Faith looked around at the patrons sitting on the small patio.

There was a pair of landscapers in khakis and t-shirts bearing a liberal coating of stains from dirt, sweat, and grass.

They wore the blank expressions of average Joes just going through the motions of another day.

At another table, a pair of high school kids ate French fries and milkshakes and did their best to seem cool and adult, which of course made them seem more awkward.

A family occupied the final two tables, two parents and seven children who behaved just well enough to spare the parents the need to physically chain them to their seats.

Fast food restaurants really were a slice of working-class America.

They were as ubiquitous as shopping malls but without the facade of status that many shopping malls tried to present.

Michael had a point. You didn’t come to a place like this hoping for trendy, health-conscious food that your doctor would be proud of.

You came here for quick, filling food stuffed with chemicals that would fire enough endorphins to give you the strength to make it through the next few hours of struggle until you could sleep and start all over again in the morning.

When you looked at it that way, the pig with his greaseburger made a lot of sense.

A low whine started in her ears. At first, she thought that the landscapers might have finished their lunch and started to work on the grass in front of the restaurant, but when she looked over there, she saw the landscapers still in their chairs staring stoically ahead and mechanically eating their burgers.

The whine grew louder, and with a brilliant flash of fear, she realized she was suffering another episode of tinnitus.

She lifted her fingers to her ears and pressed the little flap of cartilage on the underside closed.

That didn’t help at all, and it occurred to her with another flash of fear that the sound wasn’t actually a sound at all but a perception of sound that wasn’t there.

There was nothing she could do to stop it.

It’s all right. It’ll pass. Just breathe. Let it happen, and it’ll all be better in a moment.

In the back of her mind, however, she knew that this sort of ailment was the kind that got worse over time, not better.

“Faith!”

Faith stiffened and looked over at Michael. He was frowning at her. “You all right? I asked what you wanted like five times.”

She blinked and noticed that Turk was also looking at her, a worried expression on his face. “I’m fine,” she said. “Um… Just… a basic cheeseburger. Whatever that is.”

“Fries too?”

“Sure.”

“Milkshake?”

She sighed. “Just get me whatever you’re getting. Get Turk a few plain patties. No cheese or bread.”

“I’m getting an Oinkburger with bacon and a fried egg.”

Faith lifted her hands and looked to the ceiling. “A basic cheeseburger with fries. No milkshake.”

“All right, all right. Just asking. You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Okay.”

They waited for their food in silence. Turk stuck his nose in between their seats and kept empathetic eyes on Faith.

Michael didn't stare, but the occasional glances he sent her way weren't any less annoying.

She was grateful when their food arrived, and he turned his attention wholly to the bounty on his plate.

“Oh yeah. This is the good stuff right here,” he said appreciatively, taking a healthy bite of a hamburger that looked big enough to feed the entire family sitting on the patio.

Bacon grease and egg yolk ran down his chin, and Faith rolled her eyes and looked away. “Oh yeah. That’s attractive.”

“All for you, pumpkin,” he retorted genially.

“You want to maybe finish that at the hotel?” Faith asked. “We are trying to solve a case.”

“I need fuel, just like any other well-oiled machine,” Michael said.

He put the car into gear, though, and pulled out of the parking lot back onto the busy street. “You should try your burger while it’s fresh,” he suggested. “It’s good stuff.”

“Seeing as how this is important to you, I will give it a try,” Faith relented, pulling the burger from her bag.

A copious amount of grease drained from the wrapping when she opened it, and she looked dubiously at the soggy slab of meat coated liberally with the kind of pasteurized processed cheese food that sold for a dollar-ninety-nine a pack.

Even without the bacon, fried egg, and extra patty, it still looked big enough to choke a horse.

She took a bite and managed to minimize the amount of grease that ran down her face by leaning forward and holding the burger over the bag.

“Well?” Michael said. “What did I tell you?”

“It’s pretty good,” she admitted. “Still a little greasy, but I like the char on the meat.”

“Real meat too, not that bullshit soy filler crap you get from other places. That’s why it’s greasy.”

“It’s a good burger.”

Turk whined, and Faith tossed him his three plain patties. He ate all three of them in quick snaps and whined again.

“I’ll give you some food at the hotel,” Faith promised. She held up her burger. “You don’t want this. This’ll clog your arteries faster than you can say, ‘who needs all that grease anyway.’”

Thankfully, they pulled into the hotel parking lot a minute later, so Faith was able to stop thinking about tinnitus and burgers and pour her attention back to the case.

A few minutes of work revealed that Dr. Crane had moved to Washington State shortly after his board certification was revoked.

Prior to that, his practice was located in Louisiana.

The real interesting news came when she searched for that practice. A news story came up about a twenty-three-year-old deaf woman who had died after suffering a seizure during Dr. Crane’s trial.

“Hey, check this out,” Faith said, showing Michael the news story. “Looks like Dr. Crane has experience killing people.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s interesting. I wonder if Monica and James might have found out about this case and threatened to expose him.”

“The case is public information, so they’d need to know more than just that,” Faith said.

“Why don’t you call the board and see if they’ll tell you why his certification was only suspended and not revoked?

I’ll talk to the DA for Rapides Parish, Louisiana and see if they can tell me why he wasn’t charged with negligent homicide. ”

Michael pushed the last of his hamburger into his mouth and gave her a thumbs up. He looked like an overgrown kid wolfing down a burger, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “If only Ellie could see you now.”

She dialed the number, and after going through the process of confirming her identity, she found herself on the phone with Alcide Dubois, the Parish Attorney for Rapides Parish.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard that case brought up,” Alcide told her. “Sad stuff. The girl was… let’s see… Lauren Poitier. She suffered profound hearing loss as a result of a soccer injury in college. She joined Dr. Crane’s trial and suffered a seizure due to the sound waves.”

“Sound waves?”

“Yes. I’m a little foggy on the medical details, but the trial was intended to test the efficacy of using targeted subsonic and ultrasonic sound waves to stimulate the auditory organs so they could hear again.

Like I said, I’m not sure of the medical details, but I am sure that Lauren died as a result of negligence on the part of Dr. Crane.

Unfortunately, I was only the assistant Parish Attorney at the time.

My superior didn’t believe we had enough evidence to convict and dropped the case. ”

The gears in Faith’s head were turning now. “I see. Thank you, Mr. Dubois. I think I have what I need.”

“Of course. Good luck to you, Special Agent. I truly hope you bring that man to justice.”

She hung up and turned to Michael just as he ended his own call.

“The Board declined to say anything more than that they felt their decision was appropriate given the circumstances,” Michael said. “I’m guessing they didn’t have enough to pin malpractice on him.”

“Or murder,” Faith added. “I just talked to the Parish Attorney. He had a nice tidbit of information for me, though.”

“Oh yeah? I like tidbits.”

“It seems that Dr. Crane’s trial involved using sound waves to heal hearing loss.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Sound waves like a low rumbling sound that seems like it’s coming from far away?”

“Might be. That could be how he’s luring them outside. I dismissed it as a possibility at first, but if there’s even a smidgen of truth to the idea that certain sound waves can stimulate hearing in deaf people, then we might have the missing piece of our method.”

“I think it’s worth another conversation with Dr. Crane at the very least,” Michael said.

“Agreed.” She got to her feet. “Come on, Turk. We’re going back.”

The three of them rushed to their car and moved equally as fast back to the clinic in Fremont. Their rental didn’t have police lights or a siren, but Michael demonstrated great prowess maneuvering through traffic, and they were fortunate enough not to encounter any traffic cops on the way.

When they reached the medical center, they found a cluster of staff standing in front of the clinic. Faith saw Kimmy—the receptionist from before—and tapped on her shoulder. Kimmy flinched and stared at Faith in shock.

“Sorry,” Faith said. “I just wanted to know what was going on. Why is everyone outside?”

Kimmy sighed and wiped tears from her eyes before replying, “Dr. Crane closed the clinic. He let us all go.”

Faith’s blood ran cold. “What? Just now?”

“Two hours ago, right after you guys left.” She cast an accusing gaze at Faith. “What did you say to him?”

Faith didn't reply. She pushed past Kimmy and worked her way through the crowd to the front door. The building was dark, and a padlock secured the door handles. A typed memo taped to the door bore the simple message: EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY, THE AUDITORY RESEARCH CENTER IS PERMANENTLY CLOSED.

A hand tapped Faith’s shoulder. She turned around to see an angry nurse ask, “Excuse me, we haven’t been paid yet. Dr. Crane owes us our wages through the end of this pay period.”

“You’ll have to file a complaint with your local district court,” Faith replied. “That’s not what I’m here for.”

She left before the irate nurse could reply. Michael and Turk followed her back to the car, their expressions as grim as Faith’s.

“Put an APB out on him,” Faith said. “Make sure it goes to the entire Bay Area and California Highway Patrol. Airport police too at SFO, SJO, and Oakland.”

“I’ll make sure the All Points Bulletin gets to All Points,” Michael replied.

“Not in the mood right now,” Faith snapped, getting into her seat and slamming the door.

She wasn’t entirely sure about Crane before, but now she had no doubt. They had spooked their killer, and now he was getting away.