“You’re missing my point. This isn’t health information.”

“True, but this falls within ‘other’ information, such as a subsequent arrest or even any other adverse occurrence, such as a donor who developed alcoholism or a substance-abuse problem, as well as late-onset cancer or any other illness. This is not something we warrant against, nor could we be expected to—”

“But a serial killer is somebody with major psychological problems. A sociopath.” Marcus raised his voice, but only slightly. “How could you not pick that up? What testing do you do for psychological problems?”

“Homestead uses Myers-Briggs—”

“Myers-Briggs is an employment test.”

“It’s used in a variety of applications to classify temperament, which is something that many of our sperm and egg recipients are interested in—”

“But any idiot can see which is the right answer to yield the right result. If I answer yes to the questions about liking people and making friends easily, I’m an extrovert. Anybody smart enough to be a serial killer knows how to manipulate that test.”

“We can’t be expected to account for intentional deception—”

“Then how are we protected? How can we have confidence in your product?” Marcus raked his wet hair back with his hand. “Is Donor 3319 even a medical student? Did you check that out, or did you just take his word for it?”

“We ascertained, at the time of his application and interview, that 3319 was accepted as a medical student to an accredited medical school. I can assure you, we will begin our investigation of this matter tomorrow—”

“How long does it take you to investigate?” Marcus threw up his free hand. “You have a file, a list somewhere that tells you exactly the identity of Donor 3319. It will take you three minutes to look that up. You probably know the answer to this question right now. Tell me if it’s him or not.”

“I can’t do that, Mr. Nilsson.”

“Is that why you took him off the shelves? Because you looked up the file and you saw that Donor 3319 is Zachary Jeffcoat?”

Christine didn’t want to think about what Marcus was saying, about the implications. He was acting like it was true. Like they wouldn’t have taken it off the shelves if it wasn’t true. Like they wouldn’t tell the truth because they wanted to keep it secret. And the only way they’d want to keep it secret was if Donor 3319 really was Zachary Jeffcoat. Murphy lifted his head from his paws, watching her.

“Mr. Nilsson, we removed 3319 from general inventory out of an abundance of caution. That same is true, I might add, of the other samples you purchased, which are stored in our tanks and reserved for you.”

“What other samples?” Marcus frowned, confused, but Christine knew what Ms. Demipetto was talking about. When they had picked Donor 3319, they’d bought the standard set of three vials, in case the pregnancy didn’t take the first time. They were paying storage fees on the two remaining vials; Christine had just written the check.

“Mr. Nilsson, I will direct you to paragraph 15 of your agreement, where it states, ‘I understand that Homestead reserves the right to retain any samples that I have purchased if an unforeseen situation arises where, at the complete discretion of Homestead, it is necessary to do so. In such an event, Homestead shall not reveal the reason for retaining the samples, if issues of confidentiality or other privacy issues are involved. In the event that Homestead retains any samples that I have purchased, Homestead shall refund the cost of the samples but will not refund any storage fees I may have paid.’”

“So this is an ‘unforeseen circumstance’?”

“Certainly, it would fall easily within an ‘unforeseen circumstance.’ We share your concerns.”

“No you don’t. You can’t. You’re protecting your donor. My wife is pregnant. We’re the ones left holding the bag, so to speak.”

Christine cringed, hearing the way Marcus talked. She never thought about the baby that way. She didn’t know he thought about it that way.

“Let me ask you this,” Marcus was saying. “How long have you been using Donor 3319’s sperm?”

“We don’t disclose that information.”

“What about other women who use his sperm? There have to be others.”

“We don’t disclose that information, either. I will tell you that we are generally conservative in the number of vials we sell from a given donor.”

“Does Homestead have to notify those women if Donor 3319 is Jeffcoat? Will you notify us?”

Demipetto hesitated. “This is beyond my bailiwick, Mr. Nilsson. I doubt that we have a notification requirement with respect to a situation like this, where a donor is arrested for a crime.”

“Not just a crime, the serial killing of three women. Nurses, and he said he was going to be a medical student. Don’t you think we have a right to know that? Don’t you think we have a right to be informed?”

“Your rights are outlined by contract—”

“I’m not talking about law, I’m talking about what’s the right thing to do. How do you feel about yourself, knowing that you’re withholding an answer I have a moral right to know? That I deserve to know? It’s the truth, and you don’t own it!”

“Mr. Nilsson, please hold a moment.”

Marcus held on as the phone went dead, seeming not to remember Christine was in the bedroom. The phone clicked, signaling that Ms. Demipetto had come back on the line.

“Mr. Nilsson, I have to terminate this conversation. As you may know, Homestead is owned and operated by Fertility Assurance Associates, Inc., and I can have a representative call you tomorrow during office—”

“Don’t hang up. I want to talk about this now. I don’t want—”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been instructed to refer this to our corporate headquarters. I can assure you that we are following up on your concerns, and we will have someone contact you.”

“Did they tell you not to talk to me?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nilsson. I must go. Thank you for your call, and I’ll have someone get back to you tomorrow. Good-bye.”

Marcus hung up, pursing his lips. “I’m calling the doctor. I’m going to get to the bottom of this, once and for all.”