confidential.”
“It’s just you and me here.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about the case.”
“This is me, Riley.” He pouted. “We’ve been friends for three years. You’ve seen me naked.”
“God, don’t remind me.”
He snorted. “You’re blushing!”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Fine, it’s about Bachman. But that’s totally confidential, okay? It’s a small little thread I’m following up on. Can you help me?”
He sighed, reached for his laptop, and started typing. Riley was fast on the keyboard, but Kyle could type circles around her.
“Basically,” he said, “we need to find out exactly what records are available online. They won’t have patient records, but each of these facilities will be licensed, public or private.”
“I want to narrow it down to a facility that doesn’t take criminal cases.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, where people are sent because of a court case or trial or something. Max thinks he wouldn’t have gone to a criminal facility. Also, it needs to be both in- and outpatient.”
Kyle continued typing, running different types of searches. He dismissed a variety of leads faster than Riley could see what had come up. “Okay,” he said after a few minutes. He drained half his beer. “Basically, each of the facilities is licensed by the state. I can easily cull a list of all facilities by when they were first licensed and whether they’re still operating today. The hard part will be if a facility is no longer operating—if I have the name, I can look it up that way, but it won’t be on the active list.”
“I’m going to have to assume that it’s a facility that’s still around. This would be only six to eight years ago.”
“Probably a safe assumption. And you said no criminal?”
Riley hoped she was right about that. “Yes,” she said. “And his family didn’t have a lot of money, so it would need to be a place that takes insurance.”
He frowned. “Hmm. That might help. Do you know what kind of insurance he had then?”
“No, but his mother worked for the City of Hartford.”
“Hmm.”
He opened another search window and typed rapidly. “Bingo,” he said. “All city employees have the same provider. But wouldn’t Bachman have insurance through the college? I got that, because it was cheaper than being on my dad’s plan, since my dad’s self-employed and pays through the nose.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“Because your dad is a cop, and he probably could cover you cheaper than if you got it through Columbia.” Again, Kyle typed. “Okay, the college plan at BU would only cover services through campus health.”
“He wouldn’t have gone there,” she said, fairly confident based on everything Max had shared with her. “He would want to be away from college. He told his roommate he needed a break from school.”
“Then we’ll stick to the City of Hartford plan. Let’s see what I can find out about it.” He was quiet for a long while. He held up his empty beer bottle without a word. Riley sighed, grabbed it, and returned with another for him. He took it, guzzled a third of it down, and put the bottle aside. He typed, read, typed, read, and Riley paced. She stared out the narrow windows into the lights that were New York City. Kyle lived in a one-room studio only a few blocks from campus. It was a great location, but the building was old and the studio small. She tried not to think that his couch was also his bed. She didn’t think that way about Kyle. Much.
“I got you a list,” Kyle said, excitement in his voice. “Unless he paid out-of-pocket, the City of Hartford insurance plan would only cover expenses for these three facilities.”
Three! She grabbed the list. “How did you narrow it down? There must be hundreds in the state.”
“No—not with the parameters you have. Many are for drug and alcohol addiction, so I took those out because almost all of them are used by courts for DWI
“It’s just you and me here.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about the case.”
“This is me, Riley.” He pouted. “We’ve been friends for three years. You’ve seen me naked.”
“God, don’t remind me.”
He snorted. “You’re blushing!”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Fine, it’s about Bachman. But that’s totally confidential, okay? It’s a small little thread I’m following up on. Can you help me?”
He sighed, reached for his laptop, and started typing. Riley was fast on the keyboard, but Kyle could type circles around her.
“Basically,” he said, “we need to find out exactly what records are available online. They won’t have patient records, but each of these facilities will be licensed, public or private.”
“I want to narrow it down to a facility that doesn’t take criminal cases.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, where people are sent because of a court case or trial or something. Max thinks he wouldn’t have gone to a criminal facility. Also, it needs to be both in- and outpatient.”
Kyle continued typing, running different types of searches. He dismissed a variety of leads faster than Riley could see what had come up. “Okay,” he said after a few minutes. He drained half his beer. “Basically, each of the facilities is licensed by the state. I can easily cull a list of all facilities by when they were first licensed and whether they’re still operating today. The hard part will be if a facility is no longer operating—if I have the name, I can look it up that way, but it won’t be on the active list.”
“I’m going to have to assume that it’s a facility that’s still around. This would be only six to eight years ago.”
“Probably a safe assumption. And you said no criminal?”
Riley hoped she was right about that. “Yes,” she said. “And his family didn’t have a lot of money, so it would need to be a place that takes insurance.”
He frowned. “Hmm. That might help. Do you know what kind of insurance he had then?”
“No, but his mother worked for the City of Hartford.”
“Hmm.”
He opened another search window and typed rapidly. “Bingo,” he said. “All city employees have the same provider. But wouldn’t Bachman have insurance through the college? I got that, because it was cheaper than being on my dad’s plan, since my dad’s self-employed and pays through the nose.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“Because your dad is a cop, and he probably could cover you cheaper than if you got it through Columbia.” Again, Kyle typed. “Okay, the college plan at BU would only cover services through campus health.”
“He wouldn’t have gone there,” she said, fairly confident based on everything Max had shared with her. “He would want to be away from college. He told his roommate he needed a break from school.”
“Then we’ll stick to the City of Hartford plan. Let’s see what I can find out about it.” He was quiet for a long while. He held up his empty beer bottle without a word. Riley sighed, grabbed it, and returned with another for him. He took it, guzzled a third of it down, and put the bottle aside. He typed, read, typed, read, and Riley paced. She stared out the narrow windows into the lights that were New York City. Kyle lived in a one-room studio only a few blocks from campus. It was a great location, but the building was old and the studio small. She tried not to think that his couch was also his bed. She didn’t think that way about Kyle. Much.
“I got you a list,” Kyle said, excitement in his voice. “Unless he paid out-of-pocket, the City of Hartford insurance plan would only cover expenses for these three facilities.”
Three! She grabbed the list. “How did you narrow it down? There must be hundreds in the state.”
“No—not with the parameters you have. Many are for drug and alcohol addiction, so I took those out because almost all of them are used by courts for DWI
Similar Books
