Kisscut

"No," Sara agreed. Something so volatile would have certainly ended up in the press.

"A few years ago in France, a woman was tried for performing over fifty procedures. I think she was originally from Africa."

Sara shook her head, wondering how a woman could do this to a child.

Nick said, "Hey, what do you already know about this?"

"Infibulation falls under the general heading of F.G.M.," she said, using the acronym for female genital mutilation. "It's sometimes practiced in the Middle East and parts of Africa. It's tied somehow to religion."

"Well, about as much as suicide missions are tied to religion," Nick corrected. "You can make a religious justification for just about anything these days."

Sara made a noise of agreement.

"Mostly, it's a custom passed down from village to village. The more uneducated the group, the more likely they are to do it. There isn't a real good religious argument to justify it, but the men over there like the idea of making sure their women don't stray."

"So they make it impossible for them to enjoy sex. Perfect solution. If this was happening to men over there, Africa and the rest of the Middle East would be an empty crater."

Nick was silent, and Sara felt guilty for painting him with the same brush. "I'm sorry, Nick. It's just-"

"You don't have to explain it to me, Sara," he offered in a soft tone.

She waited a beat, then asked, "What else?"

"Well," he began, and she could hear him shuffling through his notes. "After the procedure, they usually bind the legs together to promote healing." He paused as if to catch his breath. "In a lot of cases, they sew them shut, you know, like your girl was, and leave an opening for her time of the month."

"I read about that," Sara confirmed. She also knew that women in the village who weren't mutilated were not considered marriage material.

"The thread you pulled from the area looks common. I've sent samples to the lab, but they're pretty certain you can find it in any Kmart." He made a thinking noise. "You think whoever did this has some kind of medical experience?"

"Are you looking at the photographs?"

"Yep," he answered. "Looks kind of elementary, but not half-assed."

"I agree," she told him, thinking that whoever had sewn the girl up was probably good with a needle and thread.

"I read this statistic," he said. "A lot of the girls die from shock. They don't exactly anesthetize them, if you know what I mean. Most times they use a piece of broken glass to perform the procedure."

Sara shuddered, but tried to maintain her composure. "Any idea why someone would do this here?"

"You mean someone who's not part of an immigrant population?" he asked, but didn't let her answer. "Over there they do it to make sure a girl stays pure. Usually, the husband opens her up on their wedding night."

"Purity," Sara said, focusing on the word. Je

Nick asked, "Was she a virgin?"

"No," Sara answered. "Judging from the size of the vaginal orifice as compared to the urinary meatus, she was sex-ually active well before the castration. Probably with a number of partners."

"You check her for any STDs?"

"Yes," Sara said. "She came back negative."

"Well, it was worth a shot."

"Anything else?"

Nick was quiet for a few beats, then asked, "You talking to Jeffrey this week?"

Sara felt a bit embarrassed, but said, "Yes."

"Tell him that drawing he sent didn't come up on our computers. We faxed it up to the FBI for a run-through, but you know they'll take their time."

"What's the drawing?" Sara asked.

"Some tattoo. I du

"I'll tell him."

"Over di

Sara laughed. "What are you getting at, Nick?"

"If you're not busy, I'm go

Sara smiled. Nick had asked her out several times before, mostly as a courtesy. He was about six inches shorter than Sara and wore more gold jewelry than any man ought to be allowed. She doubted very seriously that he thought he had a chance in hell with her, but Nick was the kind of man who liked to leave no stone unturned.

She told him, "I guess I'm seeing Jeffrey again."

"You guess?"

"I mean," she paused. "Yes, we're dating again."

He took the refusal good-naturedly, as usual. "Can't blame an old boy for trying."

After they said their good-byes, Sara stayed in her chair, thinking about what Nick had told her. There had to be some co

Also, there was the greater question of who had performed the mutilation on Je

Nelly slid open the door, saying, "The Patterson kid is here." Then added, "Without the mother," in a hushed whisper.

Sara glanced at her watch. Mark was supposed to have been in yesterday morning. His dropping by today would throw her whole schedule out of whack. "Put him in six," she said. "Tell him he'll have to wait."

"Him?" Nelly asked. "It's Lacey, the girl."

Sara sat up in her chair. "Did she say why she's here?"

"Just that she's not feeling well," Nelly answered, then whispered again, "She doesn't look well, if you ask me."

Sara whispered, "Why are you whispering?"

Nelly allowed a smile, walking into the office. She closed the door, saying, "She's acting strange. She's not with her mother."

Sara felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. "How long has she been waiting?"

"Not long," Nelly answered. "Put her in six?"

Sara nodded, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She picked up the phone to dial Jeffrey's number, then changed her mind. Lacey had come to the clinic because she trusted Sara, and Sara would not betray that confidence. At the very least, the girl needed help. Whatever laws she had broken could be dealt with after Sara made sure she was okay.

Exam six was in the back of the building, at the end of the L-shaped hallway. Normally, it was reserved for very sick children or used as a waiting room for parents while Sara talked to their kids about sex, or birth control, or whatever things they felt they needed to talk to their pediatrician about in private. Sara supposed Molly had stuck Lacey back here to win the girl's trust. Kids did not just show up at the clinic without their parents, even the ones who could drive themselves.

Molly was waiting by the closed exam room door when Sara turned the corner.

She handed Lacey Patterson's chart to Sara outside the exam room, saying, "I'll be in two if you need me."

Sara flipped open the chart to review her notes from Lacey's last visit, even though Sara had looked at the chart just a few days ago. Two months ago, the girl had presented with what appeared to be strep throat. Sara had started her on antibiotics, pending the lab results. Sara thumbed through the chart, but the pink sheet the lab usually sent was not in there. She was about to find Molly when she noticed a noise coming from behind the exam door.

"Lacey?" Sara asked, sliding back the door. "Are you-" She stopped midsentence, thinking that the last time she had seen someone so pale was in the morgue. The girl was sitting in the chair by the exam table, her arms wrapped across her stomach. Despite the weather she was wearing a neon-yellow raincoat. She was doubled over, her arms wrapped around her stomach as if in pain.