0373401965 (R)

by Lara Lacombe

  Time to change the subject.

  “Since the medical records weren’t as helpful as I’d hoped, I need to interview the patients.”

  Grant nodded, accepting the conversational shift without comment. “A couple are still in the hospital. I’ll help you track down the ones who have been released.”

  “That would be great.” She wanted to conduct the interviews as soon as possible so she could start sifting through their responses in an attempt to identify any common exposures the patients had all shared. Had they eaten the same food, used the same bathroom, gone to the same research site? Since they still didn’t know how people were getting infected with the mystery pathogen, she couldn’t rule anything out.

  “Want some help with the interviews?”

  Avery chewed another bite of omelet while she considered his offer. On the one hand, it would be nice to have another set of ears present to make sure she didn’t miss anything. And since the patients all knew Grant, they might be more willing to open up about private or otherwise potentially embarrassing behaviors that may have exposed them to the bug.

  But if she said yes, it would mean spending more time around Grant. Sitting next to him and feeling the warmth radiate off his body. Listening to the easy rhythm of his breathing. Hearing his voice and seeing him interact with his patients. Could she handle that much exposure to him and still keep her head, or would she surrender to the whims of her body and allow her attraction to him to continue to grow unchecked? It was a possibility that was both appealing and appalling in equal measure.

  In the end, her practical side won out. She was here to do a job, and she owed it to the patients and the people who had died to work as quickly and effectively as possible. If that meant dealing with a little personal crisis, so be it.

  She nodded. “I’d appreciate that, yes.”

  Grant’s eyebrows lifted, and she could tell her acceptance had surprised him. But he recovered quickly. “Great,” he said, scooping up another bite of food and nodding to himself.

  “Do you think the patients who recovered would volunteer to donate some blood?” Jennifer, the lab tech, would be able to take those samples and use them to help her identify the bug. It was a painstaking process, but if she was as good as her reputation suggested, she’d be able to get results soon.

  Grant shrugged. “I’m sure they’d be happy to help. To be honest, I think they’re relieved to be alive, and I bet they’re willing to pitch in to keep other people from getting sick.”

  Avery chewed another bite, hoping he was right. She’d worked outbreaks where people couldn’t wait to help the investigation, as well as those where patients wanted nothing more to do with the medical establishment. It could go either way, which was another reason having Grant along would be a bonus. He was a member of the community, more likely to be trusted than an outsider such as herself.

  “Hey, Doc.”

  Avery looked up as a man approached their table. His dark hair was cropped short and his skin was pink and windblown, indicating he probably spent a lot of time outside. He limped a little as he walked, and Grant frowned at the man.

  “David. Ankle bothering you again?”

  David glanced down, then looked back up with a shrug. “No more than usual.”

  “Why don’t you stop by the clinic today and I’ll see if there’s anything I can do?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” David responded. “Don’t want to catch anything.” He winked, but there was a note in his voice that made Avery think he wasn’t entirely joking.

  “I think we’re past that now,” Grant said, avoiding Avery’s gaze.

  David nodded, but his expression remained doubtful. He cast a curious glance at Avery. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Ah, this is Avery Thatcher. She’s from—”

  “Atlanta,” Avery interrupted, sticking out her hand. She didn’t mind people knowing she worked for the CDC, but she’d hoped to make an official announcement, rather than let the information spread through the base via gossip.

  David shook her hand and gave her a kind smile. “Welcome to Antarctica. Be sure to keep an eye on this one here,” he said, nodding at Grant. “He’s trouble.”

  “Believe me, I know,” she replied dryly.

  “I’ll let you finish your breakfast,” David said, taking a step back from their table.

  “Be sure to come see me today,” Grant said, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Will do.” David left them with a wave, and Avery turned back to face Grant.

  “Do you think we should have a town hall type of meeting? Introduce me to the people here, let them know what’s going on?”

  Grant appeared to consider the suggestion. “That’s a good idea. I know people have been worried. They could use some reassurance.” He glanced in the direction David had taken, but the man was already long gone.

  “How soon can you set it up?”

  Grant tilted his head to the side. “A couple of hours.”

  Avery forked up the last bite of omelet. “Let’s do it.” She pushed back from the table, anticipation fluttering to life in her belly.

  Time to go to work.

  *

  Paul sat at the back of the dining hall, arms crossed over his chest as he listened to the base doctor drone on about the outbreak. How it was contained, that they hadn’t seen any new cases in three days and there probably wasn’t anything to worry about. Little did he know...

  He’d infected a few more people yesterday. Not many—just the three he’d shared a drink with at the base bar last night. Just like with the first set of people, he’d bought the last round, a gesture they’d appreciated. He had a reputation as being a friendly guy, so no one had suspected his motives or looked twice at their drinks after he’d carried them back to the table. And while his stomach had cramped a little as he watched the men sip their beers, he knew there was no help for it. His contact had made it clear the lives of his children were at stake, and that was a sacrifice he simply wasn’t willing to make.

  If the pattern held, the men would start to feel bad tonight, and they’d likely head to the hospital tomorrow. At that point, the good doctor would realize the bug wasn’t really gone after all...

  The woman sitting at the doctor’s table stood up, introduced herself as Avery Thatcher from the CDC. He leaned forward. That was interesting. She’d been sent to investigate the cause of the disease and hopefully identify its source. That meant she’d be asking a lot of questions.

  His heart started to pound, and blood whooshed through his ears, making it hard to hear what she was saying. How long would it take for his name to come up? For people to remember spending time with him right before they got sick?

  He felt suddenly light-headed and leaned forward in his chair, taking a deep breath. The risk of detection had always been there, but he’d assumed the doctor and his staff would be so busy caring for patients they wouldn’t have time to figure out where the disease was coming from. But now that the CDC had sent an investigator, it was only a matter of time before his part in the outbreak was discovered.

  Although...maybe the three he’d infected last night wouldn’t live to talk to the woman or the doctor. It was possible. After all, four out of the first ten people he’d infected had died. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine the latest group would suffer the same fate.

  A small voice in his head wondered when he had become the type of person who wished for others to die. But he ignored the thought, ruthlessly slamming the door on what remained of his conscience. He didn’t have the luxury of morals anymore, not when his children were at stake.

  “You must be Paul.”

  He jumped at the unexpected voice and glanced over to find a man sitting in the previously empty seat next to him. He’d been so distracted by his own thoughts, he hadn’t registered the man’s presence until he’d spoken. Thank God I wasn’t talking to myself!

  “Ah, can I help you?” Who was this guy? Paul had definitely never
seen him on-base before. And why did he talk as if they’d already been introduced?

  “Actually, I think it’s more a question of me helping you.”

  Awareness began to dawn as the man’s words sank in. This must be the “help” his contact had said was forthcoming. Paul gave him a quick once-over, taking in his pale skin, light blue eyes and dishwater-blond hair. The man looked like he was on the verge of fading into the background, and Paul experienced a flash of doubt: Had he really never seen this man before, or had his appearance simply not registered?

  “What’s your name?” He didn’t like the fact that a stranger knew how to find him in a crowd. What else did the man know?

  “Call me Jesse.”

  Paul frowned. The way he spoke made it sound like he hadn’t really answered the question. Was Jesse his actual name or just a cover he was using while on-base?

  “Well, Jesse, what exactly do you think you can do to help me?” No way was Paul going to talk about what he’d done out in the open, especially not with a man he’d just met who might or might not be working for the same organization. Maybe he was being overly paranoid, but it was possible Jesse was actually some kind of mole who was canvassing the crowd, trying to find out what people really knew about the outbreak.

  “You’re off to a good start here,” Jesse said, nodding faintly at Dr. Jones, who was now asking people to cooperate with the disease investigation. “But we need to take things to the next level while there’s still time.”

  Paul glanced around to make sure no one had overheard, but the chairs around them were empty, and the few people seated nearby appeared totally absorbed in what the doctor was saying. “What do you mean?” he said quietly.

  “The Organization requires more data,” Jesse replied. He faced forward, his expression rapt. Anyone who looked would see a man focused on the presentation in front of him, not someone quietly plotting to expand the outbreak of a devastating new disease.

  Paul ground his teeth together, biting off the retort that first sprang to his lips. “I know what they want,” he said tightly. “But there are limits to what I can do.”

  Jesse slid him a glance before returning his gaze to the speakers. “Of course,” he said pleasantly. “Which is why I’m here. My role on the base makes me uniquely suited to assist your efforts.”

  Despite his reservations about the man, Paul was curious to know more. “What do you mean? What do you do here?”

  Jesse inclined his head, nodding at the doctor and the woman standing in front of the group. “I’m part of the outbreak response team. I arrived with Dr. Thatcher yesterday to assist in the investigation.”

  “My God,” Paul whispered. He truly was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It was terrifyingly perfect. To have one of the people on the investigation team actively working to thwart their efforts? The consequences were almost too awful to contemplate. The people on-base didn’t stand a chance now.

  Provided Jesse didn’t get caught.

  Paul gave him another look, viewing his unremarkable features with a new appreciation. He looked like the last person anyone would suspect, and since he was actually a member of the team tasked with beating the disease? Paul couldn’t have asked for a better assistant.

  “Is this your first assignment?” It was one thing to look innocent, but if he made a rookie mistake it would jeopardize the whole endeavor.

  Jesse nodded once. “Just like you,” he said, a subtle note of challenge in his tone.

  “I guess we both have something to prove,” Paul said easily. He didn’t bother explaining that his first assignment would also be his last. Working for the Organization was proving to be more trouble than he’d anticipated, and the sooner he wriggled free of its clutches, the better.

  Jesse nodded. “Will there be another group soon, or do I need to step in?”

  Paul bristled at the implication he couldn’t do his job, but he tamped down the response. He and Jesse were going to have to work closely together, and it wouldn’t do to start off on the wrong foot.

  “Tomorrow at the latest,” he replied. Jesse’s eyes widened briefly, and Paul felt a surge of satisfaction at his response. That’s right, he thought. I’m not as incompetent as you thought.

  “Very nice,” Jesse murmured. “Should we set up additional events?”

  Paul shrugged. “Maybe we should wait and see how the next ones play out.”

  Jesse appeared to consider his suggestion. He nodded. “Very well. I will be in touch.” He stood, and Paul realized the meeting was over. The scrape of chair legs on tile filled the room as people rose to their feet and began to shuffle out. He watched as a clump of people formed around the two doctors at the front of the room, the small crowd doubtless wanting some personal reassurance that they were not in danger.

  If they only knew...

  Jesse was uniquely placed to help his efforts, a fact that brought him a small measure of relief. With Jesse’s help, the success of his mission was practically a foregone conclusion. More important, though, the safety of his children was no longer so precarious. The realization made the tight knot in his chest ease a bit, and his muscles relaxed for the first time in days.

  Briefly, he wondered what the Organization had told Jesse. Did his instructions differ or had they told him the same thing? Get more data. Not for the first time, Paul wished his contact had provided clarification. How many more people did he have to infect? When would the Organization be satisfied?

  Part of it was out of his hands. His tenure at the base was coming to an end in a few weeks, so time was a limiting factor. Somehow, though, he doubted that would be seen as a legitimate excuse for failure. He wasn’t worried yet; given the results thus far, there was no reason to expect he wouldn’t be able to get the Organization the information it wanted before he left.

  Especially now that he had a partner.

  Chapter 5

  It took a little time, but Grant eventually made it back to the base hospital. The town hall meeting had gone well, all things considered. A crowd had gathered after his talk, everyone wanting a personal word or needing to ask a question. Their behavior hadn’t surprised him—people were naturally worried—but he felt like he’d done a good job of assuaging their fears.

  For now, at least.

  If the outbreak really was over, tension on the base would ease the longer they went without a new case. But if Avery was right, and the disease was simmering undetected in the population... He shuddered, half afraid to even think of the possibility for fear his attention would make it come true. It was superstitious, he knew, but he didn’t like to dwell on such a terrible prospect.

  He’d sent Avery back to the hospital ahead of him. She’d been patient while they were swarmed after the meeting, but she’d been so eager to get started interviewing the recovering patients, Grant had practically felt her vibrating as she’d stood next to him. As soon as there had been a break in the crowd, he’d motioned for her to go ahead of him. She’d shot out the door, pausing only to cast a grateful look over her shoulder as another person walked up to bend his ear for a moment.

  Now he stood at the nurses’ station, ostensibly filling out paperwork. In reality, though, he was sneaking glances at Avery as she sat by a patient’s bedside, notepad in her lap and expression attentive.

  It was the same look she’d worn when they had studied together in college—one of total absorption, all her attention focused on a single topic. It was a strategy that had served her well in school, and her ability to tune out the world and immerse herself in a subject had also served him well, in their more private moments.

  He shifted his weight, feeling suddenly warm. He couldn’t afford to indulge in those memories of Avery—she’d made it very clear she only wanted to interact with him on a professional level. If he showed even a hint of remembering the intimacy of their former relationship, she’d probably ignore him for the remainder of her stay on-base.

  The problem was, the more time he spent with her,
the more attention his physical desires demanded. He wished he could turn off his responses, but his body operated on an instinctive level that was not subject to the control of his mind. Even something as subtle as a whiff of her spicy, orange-scented shampoo was enough to set his heart racing and flood his brain with memories of their time together.

  Was it the same for her? Was she having to fend off memories left and right? Or was she unaffected by him and the reminder of the past they shared?

  Probably. She had the strongest will of anyone he’d known. Once Avery made up her mind to do something, it was as good as done. And since she’d made no secret of the fact that she wanted to keep their interactions superficial, he doubted she was suffering from the same small physical betrayals he was subject to every time they got within three feet of each other.

  Part of him was glad to know he could still feel. Part of why he’d taken the job on-base was for the thrill of practicing medicine in such a remote location. Since he hadn’t been able to emotionally connect with anyone in years, he’d decided he might as well enjoy an adrenaline rush or two. For a long time, he’d thought he was broken. That the breakup with Avery and the loss of their baby had left him so destroyed he wouldn’t ever be able to truly love anyone again. It was a hell of a thing to realize he’d been wrong, especially when he couldn’t do anything about it.

  But the worst part of all? He had no right to feel that way about her. To remember what they had shared. To think about the future they had planned, and how different his life would be now if only he hadn’t been so stupid.

  If only...

  *

  “I’m losing the baby.”

  He blinked, trying to process her words through the haze of fatigue that weighed him down. He’d been in the bathroom all night with a stomach bug and had crashed hard sometime midmorning. He hadn’t heard the phone ring, and when he’d woken to throw up again, he’d found her message that she was going to the emergency room. He’d tried to call her back but she hadn’t answered. Convinced she must be dying, Grant had stumbled out to his car and raced over to her place, his heart in his throat.