ISBN: 9780373752997

Everywhere he looked, Ian Martin saw babies. Around the plush hospital lobby, giant photos of babies hung on the walls. Between the designer couches, life-size dolls beamed from their car… Plus…

Everywhere he looked, Ian Martin saw babies. Around the plush hospital lobby, giant photos of babies hung on the walls. Between the designer couches, life-size dolls beamed from their carriages at the throng of local press and small-town dignitaries. Now, if a few Uzi-toting toddlers in camouflage pj's would burst in, that might be interesting. As if he weren't already on infant overload, Ian noticed two women in advanced stages of pregnancy posing for photographs. Presumably they'd both conceived with the high-tech help of the doctors here at Safe Harbor Medical Center, whose six stories of state-of-the-art equipment were detailed on a large wall chart. Honestly. Didn't these people have anything better to do? He certainly did. Although Ian had covered wars from Africa to Afghanistan, his editor seemed to think he had a gift for human-interest stories. So, as he was already in Southern California with a free Friday evening, he'd been dispatched to cover the official reopening of this updated, expanded maternity hospital. He'd much rather be digging into the investigation of a federal judge accused of taking bribes, or even poking into the Hollywood divorce scandal that was his secondary reason for descending on the area. Across the room, he exchanged wry glances with cameraman Pierre Fabray, a coworker from the L.A. bureau of Flash News/Global. With a shrug, Pierre returned his attention to a mom-to-be who, judging by the size of her, must be pregnant with triplets. Idly, Ian dropped a couple of entry tickets into the raffle box in front of a display of expensive baby furnishings. He'd parted with twenty bucks for them, since the raffle raised money for needy families, the kind that could never otherwise afford these luxurious surroundings. If he wonand Ian had remarkable luckhe planned to donate the gear to charity. That task accomplished, he gazed around for power players he might be able to prod into saying something provocative. There had to be a story here somewhere. If Ian couldn't find it, he'd stir one up by asking questions somebody didn't want to answer. First obvious player: hospital administrator Mark Rayburn, a father-knows-best-type obstetrician in his late thirties. Second possibility: a lady from the corporation that owned the hospital. From her spiked heels to her mask of makeup, she looked like she breakfasted on nails and spat them out machine-gun-style at anyone who crossed her. Neither of them was likely to yield more than an irritable quote or two. Better to locate the inevitable gadfly. There must be a doctor who'd worked at the facility prior to its transformation from a community hospital and who was less than thrilled to see it turned into a haven for the moneyed. Ian didn't see anyone fitting that description hanging around, shooting his mouth off. He needed assistance, and from what he'd seen of the public relations director, talking to her wouldn't be painful at all. He located Jennifer Serra outs Fiction Fiction eBook, Harlequin<

ISBN: 0373752997