Title - Saying The Words (12/?)
Author - Nicky
Rating - PG
Category - JMPR
Summary - Jarod tries to say good-bye, but ends up coming back to 
rescue Miss Parker and finds her in a surprising predicament.
Disclaimer - The characters aren't mine.  I'm just using them for 
my own entertainment purposes.

* * * * * * * * * *

Jarod arrives at the clinic that afternoon with no problems.  
Savannah was a nice sized town, but not big enough for him to get 
lost.  He pulls into the clinic  parking lot just 30 minutes 
after leaving his own office, the traffic on the Abercorn 
Expressway delaying him a bit. Opening the door and stepping 
inside, he was taken aback to see a completely different world 
than the one he just left.  The clinic was packed to capacity 
with women of all ages waiting to see a doctor or nurse.  Some of 
them already had a few children with them.  But very few of them 
had on wedding rings.  He walks to the desk and introduces 
himself to the receptionist, letting her knew he was replacing 
Dr. Jacobs for the day.

"Right this way, Doctor.  His office is the last door on the 
left.  The patient charts are in there as well.  Just let me know 
when you're ready for your patients.  It shouldn't be too busy 
for you today.  Dr. Jacobs usually sees just 2 patients a day," 
she explains to him quickly, barely looking up from what she was 
doing.

"What about the other ones?  There are so many that need our 
help," he says sincerely.

She abruptly stops what she's doing, looking up at him curiously.  
She takes in his well pressed appearance, eyeing his crisp lab 
coat and shiny new shoes.  He looks at her with an equal amount 
of curiosity, wondering why she was staring at him so 
inquisitively.

"What?" he asks, starting to feel a little uneasy from her glare.

"You sound like you really care, Dr. -"

"Wilkes," he smiles, offering his hand for her to shake.

"Nice to meet you, Dr. Wilkes.  And I really mean that," she 
says, souding surprised. "Most of you doctors from the southside 
come over here just to do your good deed for the week and then 
waste no time getting out of here.  You see a few patients and 
then go back to your world, feeling good about taking an hour or 
two to see a few poor, disadvantaged patients.  You walk right 
out, past that same room full of women that sit here all day, yet 
rarely get to see a doctor.  I didn't expect you to be any 
different."

"Just give me five minutes," he says, without any thought.  He 
came here with the intention of doing a little digging around Dr. 
Jacobs' office.  But looking out into that waiting room, he 
realizes that helping was more important than getting dirt on the 
doctor.  "Then you can start sending them back.  If I can help 
it, they're all going to see a doctor today."

"Right away, Doctor," she smiles brightly.  She could tell now 
that she was going to like this new doctor.  Maybe he would take 
over completely for Dr. Jacobs.  She didn't care if she never saw 
that man again.  But there wasn't anything she could do about 
that.  He was one of the only doctors who would come to the 
clinic and they needed all the help they could get.  That still 
didn't make her like him any more.  He gave her the creeps and 
she couldn't help but think he was up to something.  She'll have 
to make sure she talk with Dr. Wilkes about it.  Because for some 
reason, she got the feeling that he could solve all their 
problems.  He would know how to handle Dr. Jacobs.

Six hours later, although tired, the receptionist was now sure 
that this was just the man to help them.

"Dr. Wilkes," she calls to him.  "It's almost 7:00.  Your wife 
has called here twice already.  You should go home."

"I will, Denise," he says with a smile.  "How many more 
patients?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you.  Everyone has been seen.  
Some only come for counseling or regular exams.  The nurses and 
social worker handled a lot of those cases.  So, the waiting 
room, for the first time ever, will be empty when we close 
tonight.  I still can't believe you stayed so late.  You're a 
good man, Dr. Wilkes.  Very different from your . . . associate."  
She's barely able to think of Dr. Jacobs anymore without 
cringing.

"Denise, do you have a problem with Dr. Jacobs?" Jarod asks, 
noticing the receptionist's reaction to the man.

"Well, he never would have done what you did today.  He comes in, 
sees a few patients, and leaves.  And he only takes the easiest 
cases where the mothers and babies are perfectly healthy.  But 
that man is cursed.  Because no matter how routine the pregnancy, 
about 75 percent of the babies he delivers don't survive longer 
than a week."

"That's a pretty high statistic," Jarod nods encouragingly, 
hoping that she keeps on talking freely while he keeps on 
cataloging all the information she was unwittingly giving him.  
"And no one questions why seemingly healthy newborns are dying?"

"Most of these girls are young, Dr. Wilkes.  Very young.  And 
they didn't really have much time to question it because most of 
them were busy defending themselves.  The police all but accused 
them of murder, but Dr. Jacobs would always report that the 
babies died of natural causes."

"What would the post mortem say?" he asks a little too eagerly, 
arousing her suspicion.

"You seem awfully interested in this, Dr. Wilkes," she says, 
looking closely at him.  "You're asking a whole lot of 
questions."

"Which you seem very eager to answer," he responds, turning the 
tables on her.  "Why is that, Denise?"

There's an intense moment of silence where they both stare at 
each other, trying to figure out each other's motives.  Denise 
sighs and looks away first, remembering her earlier impressions 
of Jarod.  He was a man to be trusted.

"My cousin lost her baby to that man," she says quietly.  
"Destiny is the baby of the family.  Just 16.  So when she got 
pregnant, her parents were beyond upset.  The situation was 
tense, so she left home to go live with an older brother.  
Anyway, despite being so young and basically on her own, 
Destiny's pregnancy was ideal.  I brought her to every one of her 
appointments here.  Right away, Dr. Jacobs was interested in her.  
She was one of the only patients he ever saw.  Despite all of 
that, Destiny ended up having the baby by Cesearean.  They sent 
her home from the hospital after two days.  By then, my aunt and 
uncle decided that Destiny was their baby girl, no matter what 
she had done.  So they went to go see her and ask her to come 
back home.  When they got to their son's house, Destiny was 
pretty out of it.  Dr. Jacobs had her on some weird kind of pain 
medication.  The baby was unconscious.  And never woke up again."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says gently.  "Is she okay?"

"She's okay.  Like I said before, the cops had lots of questions 
for her and it was almost like they were blaming her.  My aunt 
and uncle are taking it hard.  My uncle feel like it's his fault.  
But my aunt . . . she's suspicious."

"Of Dr. Jacobs," Jarod concludes.  She just nods her head.

"She keeps on saying that something about the baby just wasn't 
right.  You see, she had gone to the hospital right after the 
baby was born.  The nurses let her hold and feed her since 
Destiny was recovering from the C-Section and couldn't do it.  So 
she probably spent more time with the baby than anyone.  This is 
going to sound strange, but she claims that the baby her and my 
uncle took to the hospital that night, the one that Dr. Jacobs 
told them died, was not the same child she fed at the hospital.  
She believes that somehow along the way, the baby got switched.  
That her granddaughter is out there somewhere . . . alive.  And 
that Dr. Jacobs knows all about it."

To be continued . . .