by Tina Beckett
Not even for Tracy. She should know that by now.
“I have a clean room set up over there. Once we get things squared away with Mandy, we can start.”
Tracy peered towards the door where the phone conversation between his assistant and her husband was growing more heated by the second. “I was really careful about keeping everything as sterile as I could. I don’t think she’s been exposed to anything.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m going to take your bagged samples into the other area. Can you wipe down the table where they were with disinfectant?”
As soon as Ben picked up the insulated bag, the guard appeared, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. “Where are you going with that?”
Ben motioned towards the clean room. “The samples can’t infect anyone else if they’re kept enclosed. You can see everything we do from the reception doorway. It’ll be safer if you keep your distance once we’ve started testing, though.”
The guard backed up a couple of paces. “How long will it take? I have no wish to stay here any longer than I have to.”
“I have no idea. It depends on what we’re dealing with.”
Putting the bag in the cubicle, he gathered the equipment he’d need and arranged it on the set of metal shelves perched above a stainless-steel table. He blew out a breath. The eight-by-eight-foot area was going to be cramped once he and Tracy were both inside.
An air handler filtered any particles floating in and out of the clean room, but there was no safe way to pump air-conditioning into the space. They’d have to rely on the wheezy window unit in the main lab and hope it kept them from baking. He could offer to send Tracy on her way before he got the results—but he was pretty sure he knew how that suggestion would be met, despite her waspish words earlier.
You couldn’t coax—or force—Tracy to do anything she didn’t want to do. He knew that from experience.
Mandy appeared in the doorway to the reception area just as Ben turned on the air filter and closed the door on the samples.
“It’s all arranged. Sergio called my mom and asked if she’d care for the baby overnight. He’s not happy about staying home from work, but he doesn’t want me to stay here either.”
“I don’t blame him. But look on the bright side. At least you can go home.” He smiled. “Tell Sergio he should count his lucky stars I haven’t stolen you away from him.”
Mandy laughed. “You’ve already told him that yourself. Many times.”
Tracy spun away from them and stalked over to the metal table she’d previously sanitized and began scrubbing it all over again. She kept her head down, not looking at either of them.
“Is the guard going to take you home?” He forced the words to remain cheerful.
“They’re sending another policeman. He should be here soon.”
“Good.” He had Mandy go back and wait in the reception area, so there’d be no question of her being anywhere near those samples. Returning to the sealed cubicle, he slid the insulated bag into a small refrigerator he kept for just this purpose. The air was already growing close inside the room, but he’d worked under worse conditions many times before. Both he and Tracy had.
He could still picture one such occasion—their very first meeting—Tracy had stepped off the Projeto Vida medical boat and stalked into the village he had been surveying, demanding to know what he was doing about the malaria outbreak twenty miles downriver. He’d been exhausted, and she’d looked like a gorgeous avenging angel, silky black hair flowing behind her in the breeze, ready to slay him if he said one wrong word.
They’d barely lasted two days before they’d fallen into bed together.
Something he’d rather not remember at the moment. Especially as he was trying to avoid any and all physical contact with her.
She might be immune, but he wasn’t. Not judging from the way his heart had taken off at a sprint when he’d seen her standing in that doorway.
Tracy dumped her paper towel into the hazardous waste receptacle and crossed over to him. “I just want to say thank you for agreeing to help. You could have told me to get lost.” She gave a hard laugh. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.”
“I’m not always an ogre, you know.”
Her teeth caught the right corner of her bottom lip in a way that made his chest tighten. “I know. And I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but I didn’t know where else to go. The military didn’t want me to take the samples out of Sao Joao dos Rios. They only agreed to let me come here because you’ve worked with them before…and even then they made me bring a guard. I honestly didn’t think anyone else would be affected other than us.”
“It’s not your fault, Trace.” He started to reach out to touch her cheek, but checked himself. “The government is probably right to keep this as contained as possible. If I thought there was any chance of contamination, I’d be the first one to say Mandy needs to stay here at the lab with us.”
He smiled. “If I know you, though, not one microbe survived on that bag before you carried it out of that town.”
“I hope not. There are still several ill people waiting on us for answers. I left a colleague behind to make sure the military didn’t do anything rash, but he’s not a doctor, and I don’t want to risk his health either.” She blew out a breath. “Those people need help. But there’s nothing I can do until I know what we’re dealing with.”
And then she’d be on her way to the next available crisis. Just like she always was.
His smile faded. “Let’s get to work, then.”
The guard stuck his head into the room. “They’re sending someone for your friend. They’ll keep her at home until the danger has passed.”
Ben nodded. “I understand. Thank you.”
When he went to the doorway to say goodbye to Mandy, she kissed his cheek, her arms circling his neck and hugging him close. When she finally let go, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I’m so grateful. I can’t imagine not being able to tuck my Jenny into bed tonight, but at least I’ll be closer to her than I would be if I stayed here.”
His heart clenched. Here was a woman whose baby meant the world to her—who didn’t need to jet off to distant places to find fulfillment. Unlike his parents.
Unlike Tracy.
“We’ll work as quickly as we can. Once things are clear, make sure you give her a kiss and a hug from her uncle Ben.”
“I will.” She wiped a spot of lipstick from his cheek with her thumb. “Be careful, okay? I’ve just gotten used to your crazy ways. I don’t want to break someone else in.”
Ben laughed and took off one of his latex gloves, laying his hand on her shoulder. “You’re not getting rid of me any time soon, so go and enjoy your mini-vacation. You’ll be back to the same old grind before you know it.”
Mandy’s escort arrived, and as soon as she exited the building, he turned back to find Tracy observing him with a puzzled frown.
“What?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just surprised you haven’t found a woman who’d be thrilled to stick close to the house and give you all those kids you said you wanted.”
“That would be impossible, given the circumstances.”
“Oh?” Her brows arched. “And why is that?”
He laughed, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “Do you really have to ask?”
“I just did.”
Grabbing her left hand, he held it up, forcing her eyes to the outline of the plain gold band visible beneath her latex glove. “For the same reason you’re wearing this.” He stared into her face. “Have you forgotten, Mrs. Almeida? You may not go by your married name any more, but in the eyes of the law…we’re still husband and wife.”
CHAPTER TWO
SHE’D FORGOTTEN NOTHING.
And she’d tried to see about getting a divorce, but being overseas made everything a hundred times more complicated. Both of the Brazilian lawyers she’d contacted had said that as an American citizen, she sh
ould return to the States and start the proceedings there, as she and Ben had been married in New York. But asking him to accompany her had been out of the question. Even if he’d been willing, she wasn’t. She hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near him, too raw from everything that had transpired in the month before she’d left Teresina—and him—for ever.
Staying married probably hadn’t been the wisest move on her part but she’d thrown herself into her work afterwards, far too busy with Projeto Vida, her aid organization’s floating clinic, to set the ugly wheels in motion. Besides, a wedding ring tended to scare away any man who ventured too close. Not that there’d been many. Her caution-do-not-touch vibes must be coming through loud and clear. She’d never get married again—to anyone—so keeping her wedding ring and her license made keeping that promise a whole lot easier.
Too bad she hadn’t remembered to take the ring off before asking Ben for help.
She realized he was still waiting for a response so she lifted her chin, praying he wouldn’t notice the slight tremble. “We’re not married any more. Not by any stretch of the imagination. You made sure of that.”
“Right.” Ben turned away and gathered a few more pieces of equipment.
Her thumb instinctively rubbed back and forth across the ring, a gesture she’d found oddly comforting during some of the tougher periods of her life—like now.
Strange how most of those times had found her wearing surgical gloves.
Studying Ben as he worked, Tracy was surprised by the slight dusting of grey in his thick brown hair. She gave herself a mental shake. The man was thirty-eight, and she hadn’t set eyes on him in four years. Change was inevitable. What hadn’t changed, however, were the electric blue eyes, compliments of his American mother, or how they provided the perfect counterpoint for tanned skin, high cheekbones and a straight, autocratic nose—all legacies from his Brazilian father. Neither had he lost any of that intense focus she’d once found so intimidating.
And irresistible.
Snap out of it, Tracy.
She donned the scrubs, booties and surgical gear Ben had left out for her and moved into the glassed-in cubicle where he was busy setting up.
“Close the door, please, so I can seal it off.”
“Seal it off?” Swallowing hard, she hesitated then did as he asked.
“Just with this.” He held up a roll of clear packing tape. “Is your claustrophobia going to be a problem?”
She hoped not, but feeling trapped had always set off a rolling sense of panic that could quickly snowball if she wasn’t careful. It didn’t matter whether the confinement was physical or emotional, the fear was the same. Glancing through the door to the reception area, she noted the exit to the outside world was plainly visible even from where she stood. “As long as I know there’s a door right through there, I should be fine. The room being made of glass helps.”
“Good.”
Ben taped the edges of the door, before removing the insulated bag from the fridge and examining the labels on each tube inside. Selecting two of them, he put the rest back in cold storage.
“What do you want me to do?” Tracy asked.
“Set up some slides. We’re going to work our way from simple to complex.”
He turned one of the tubes to the side and read her label out loud. “Daniel, male, twelve years.” He paused. “Living?”
“Yes.” Her heart twisted when she thought of the preteen boy staring at her with terrified eyes. But at least he was alive. As was his younger sister Cleo. Their mother, however, hadn’t been so lucky. Hers had been one of the first bodies they’d found in the village. “Febrile. No skin lesions visible.”
“Signs of pneumonia?”
“Not yet, which is why this seemed so strange. Most of the dead had complained to relatives of coughs along with fever and malaise.”
“Liver enlargement in the dead?”
She swallowed. “No autopsies, remember? The military destroyed everything.” Her voice cracked.
Ben’s gloved hand covered hers, and even through the layers of latex the familiar warmth of his touch comforted her in a way no one else ever could. “Why don’t you get those slides ready, while I set up the centrifuge?”
Glad to have something to take her mind off the horrific scene she and Pedro had stumbled on in Sao Joao dos Rios, she pulled several clean slides from the box and spread them across the table. Then, carefully taking the cotton swab from Ben’s outstretched hand, she smeared a thin layer of material on the smooth glass surface. “What are you looking for?”
“Anything. Everything.” The tense muscle in his jaw made her wonder if he already had a theory. “You’ll need to heat-set the slides as you smear them.”
He lit a small burner and showed her how to pass the slide across the flame to dry it and affix the specimen to the glass.
The sound of a throat clearing in the outer doorway made them both look up. Their guard cupped his hands over his mouth and said in a loud voice, “Your assistant has arrived safely at her home.”
Ben flashed a thumbs-up sign. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Tracy’s fingers tensed on the slide at the mention of Ben’s assistant, which was ridiculous. Yes, the woman had kissed him, but Brazilians kissed everyone—it was a kind of unspoken rule in these parts. Besides, the woman had a family. A new baby.
Her throat tightened, a sense of loss sweeping over her. Ben had wanted children so badly. So had she. When she’d fallen pregnant, they’d both been elated. Until she’d had a devastating piece of news that had set her back on her heels. She’d thrown herself into her work, angering Ben, even as she’d tried to figure out a way to tell him.
That had all changed when he’d sent the military in to force her out of a stricken village during a yellow fever outbreak. She knew he’d been trying to protect her and the baby—not from the disease itself, as she’d already been vaccinated the previous year, but from anything that had taken her out of his sight. She hadn’t need protecting, though. She’d needed to work. It had been her lifeline in a time of turmoil and confusion, and his interference had damaged her trust. She’d miscarried a week later, and the rift that had opened between them during their disagreement over the military had grown deeper, with accusations flying fast and furious on both sides.
In the end she’d opted to keep her secret to herself. Telling him would have changed nothing, not when she’d already decided to leave.
Work was still her number-one priority. Still her lifeline. And she needed to get her mind back on what she was doing.
Tracy took the long cotton swab and dipped it into another of her sample jars, laying a thin coating of the material on a second glass slide, heat-setting it, like she’d done with the first. “Do you need me to apply a stain?”
“Let’s see what we’ve got on these first.”
“There were pigs in a corral at one of the victims’ homes. Could it be leptospirosis?”
“Possibly.” He switched on the microscope’s light. “If I can’t find anything on the slides, we’ll need to do some cultures. Lepto will show up there.”
He didn’t say it, but they both knew cultures would take several days, if not longer, to grow.
Tracy sent a nervous glance towards the reception area, where the guard lounged in a white plastic chair in full view. He twirled what looked like a toothpick between his thumb and forefinger. For the moment his attention wasn’t focused on them. And he was far enough away that he shouldn’t be able to hear soft voices through the glass partition.
“That could be a problem.”
Ben turned toward her, watchful eyes moving over her face. “How so?”
“I told the military police you’d have an answer for them today.”
“You did what?” His hand clenched on the edge of the table. “Of all the irresponsible—”
“I know, I know. I didn’t have a choice. It was either that or leave Sao Joao dos Rios empty-handed.”
He closed
his eyes for a few seconds before looking at her again. “You’re still hauling around that savior complex, aren’t you, Tracy? Don’t you get tired of being the one who swoops in to save the day?”
“I thought that was your role. Taking charge even when it’s not your decision to make.” She tossed her head. “Maybe if you’d stopped thinking about yourself for once…” As soon as the ugly words spurted out she gritted her teeth, staunching the flow. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“Yes. It was.” He took the slide from her and set it down with an audible crack.
The guard was on his feet in an instant, his casual manner gone. “O que foi?”
Ben held up the slide. “Sorry. Just dropped it.” Although he said the words loudly enough for the guard to hear them, he kept his tone calm and even. Even so, the tension in his white-knuckled grip was unmistakable.
The guard rolled his eyes, his face relaxing. “I’m going to the cafeteria. Do you want something?”
How exactly did the man expect to get the food past the sealed doorway? Besides, she wouldn’t be able to eat if her life depended on it. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“Same here,” said Ben.
The guard shrugged and then checked the front door. He palmed the old-fashioned key he found in the lock before reinserting it again, this time on the outside of the door.
He meant to lock them in!
“No, wait!” Tracy stood, not exactly sure how she could stop him.
“Sorry, but I have my orders. Neither of you leaves until those samples are destroyed.”
She started to argue further, but Ben touched her shoulder. “Don’t,” he said in a low voice.
Holding her tongue, she watched helplessly as the door swung shut, a menacing snick of the lock telling her the guard had indeed imprisoned them inside the room. A familiar sting of panic went up her spine. “What if he doesn’t come back? What if we’re trapped?”
Stripping off one of his gloves, he reached into his pocket. “I have a spare. I know you don’t like being confined.”
Sagging in relief, she managed a shaky laugh. “You learned that the hard way, didn’t you?”