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CHAPTER 062

The desk officer at the Rockville Police Station was an attractive, smooth-skinned black woman of twenty-five. The desk plate read OFFICER J. LOWRY. Her uniform was crisp.

Georgia Bellarmino pushed her daughter close to the other side of the desk. She set the paper bag of syringes in front of the policewoman and said, “Officer Lowry, I want to know why my daughter has these things, but she refuses to tell me.”

Her daughter glared at her. “I hate you, Mom.”

Officer Lowry showed no surprise. She glanced at the syringes. She turned to Georgia’s daughter. “Were these prescribed to you by a physician?”

“Yes.”

“Do they involve matters of reproduction?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Can I see some ID?”

“She’s sixteen, all right,” Georgia Bellarmino said, leaning forward. “And I want to know-”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the policewoman said. “If she is sixteen, and these drugs involve reproductive issues, you have no right to be informed.”

“What do you mean I have no right to be informed? She’s mydaughter. She’ssixteen. ”

“That’s the law, ma’am.”

“But that law is for abortions. She isn’t having an abortion. I don’t know what the hell she is doing. These are fertility drugs. She’sshooting up fertility drugs. ”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you on this.”

“You mean my daughter is allowed to inject drugs into her body, and I am not allowed to know what is going on?”

“Not if she won’t tell you, no.”

“And what about her doctor?”

Officer Lowry shook her head. “He can’t tell you, either. Doctor-patient privilege.”

Georgia Bellarmino collected the syringes and threw them back in the bag. “This is ridiculous.”

“I don’t make the laws,” the policewoman said. “I just enforce them.”

They were drivinghome. “Honey,” Georgia said. “Are you trying to get pregnant?”

“No.” Sitting there with her arms folded. Furious.

“I mean, you’re sixteen, that shouldn’t be a problem…So what are you doing?”

“You made me feel like an idiot. ”

“Honey, I’m just concerned.”

“No you’re not. You’re a nosy, evil bitch. I hate you, and I hate this car.”

It went on like this for a while, until finally Georgia drove her daughter back to school. Jennifer got out of the car, slamming the door. “Andyou made me late for French!”

It was anexhausting morning, and she had canceled two appointments. Now she had to try and reschedule the clients. Georgia went into the office, set the bag of needles on the floor, and started dialing.

The office manager, Florence, walked by and saw the bag. “Wow,” she said. “Aren’t you a little old for this?”

“It’s not me,” Georgia said irritably.

“Then…not your daughter?”

Georgia nodded. “Yeah.”

“It’s that Dr. Vandickien,” Florence said.

“Who?”

“Down in Miami. These teenage girls take hormones, pump up their ovaries, sell their eggs to him, and pocket the money.”

“And do what?” Georgia said.

“Buy breast implants.”

Georgia sighed. “Great,” she said. “Just great.”

She wanted her husband to talk to Jennifer, but unfortunately, Rob was on a flight to Ohio, where they were making a TV segment about him. That discussion-which was sure to be fiery-would have to wait.