by Jule McBride
“Go on,” Rex had said.
“Michelle was…all over me,” Jeb had continued. “I mean…” A blush had crept into his cheeks. “She was rubbing my legs and kissing me, all during the movie.” Pausing, he’d swallowed hard, the red in his cheeks deepening. “Do you…uh…need more detail, sir?”
Taking mercy on him, Rex had said, “That’s enough. The important thing is that you feel Michelle’s behavior has changed.”
Looking relieved, Jeb had nodded. “That’s affirmative,” he’d said, making Ariel bite back a smile. She suspected he’d heard the response on episodes of Star Trek and had waited to say the words himself for years.
“And you say this happened recently?”
Jeb had nodded. “Again, affirmative. All at once. Overnight. Uh…” The lump had seemed to lodge in the boy’s throat again, and he’d swallowed around it. “Not that I really mind,” he’d said.
Rex’s lips had twitched. “Judging by the hickey on your neck, I think that goes without saying.”
Watching Rex take notes, Jeb had flushed more darkly at the comment, then added, “That’s why I think something’s wrong with your tests. Maybe they can’t detect the virus now. Maybe it’s mutated, so it doesn’t look the same as it did in South America. Did you think of that? I mean, maybe it’s…oh, I don’t know, become invisible or something. Smaller. So, equipment can’t detect it.” Jeb had been thinking out loud. “Viruses do mutate. Don’t they, Dr. Houston?”
Rex had nodded. “Yep. It is in the nature of the beast. The proteins in viruses form an envelope in which material from other cells can grow. So, they can do just about anything.”
Jeb had swiftly bobbed his head. “That’s what I was thinking. Marsh and I—he’s my best buddy—have been reading about them. And like I say, I think that’s what’s happened, Dr. Houston.”
Once more, he’d glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Can’t you see?” he’d plunged on. “Michelle is all over me. And Marsh and I had to deliver Jay Jones’s paper route. And I noticed something else suspicious that I can’t talk about yet….”
Rex had squinted, his mind back on the first comment. “A paper route…?”
Jeb was getting more agitated. “Yeah. And well, you have to know Jay Jones. He’s always on time. Never forgets his homework. Head of the chess club and class president. But Marsh and I found him at the spring, practically doing it with one of the summer visitors. He was right there in front of everybody! And the bag of newspapers was just lying in the grass!”
“So, you delivered them?”
“Yeah. And…” His voice had dropped as he’d jerked his head to the side. “Look at Chicken Giblets, I mean Miss Gibbet.” He’d paused significantly as Rex and Ariel’s gaze had followed his. “She’s never married. She hates men, especially Mr. DeLyle. But look at how she’s laughing and smiling, talking to him now.”
Rex had nodded once more.
“They usually hate each other,” Jeb had repeated.
Ariel had spoken for the first time. “That’s true.”
“Only love songs are playing on the local radio station, and the Bliss theater’s only showing romantic movies.” Jeb had glanced toward Ariel, his cheeks turning another shade pinker, if that was possible. “And your relatives. The uh…”
“Witches of Teasdale’s Terror House?” Ariel had suggested, her lips twitching when she’d suddenly realized that this boy, too, had probably heard all the crazy tales about her overactive sexuality. Shoot, maybe they had a point. No one could miss the sparks flying between her and Rex.
“It’s okay,” she’d coached. Even though it was probably a lie, she’d felt compelled to add, “You can say anything, Jeb. You won’t offend me.”
Jeb had swallowed hard. “They’re wearing floral-print dresses. And your great grandmother was in town, wearing pink and talking to Eli Saltwell. You know that’s weird.”
She was just as confused about it as Jeb. She’d nodded, glancing at Rex. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe there is an infection, and the tests aren’t picking it up. What if Romeo really has mutated…?”
“It’s possible. Still, I’d probably have seen something under the microscope,” Rex had countered.
She’d shrugged. “You think so. But isn’t that the point of mutations? Some new strain of a virus evolves that’s stronger and more resilient?”
Rex had considered a long moment. “There was a camouflaged bug found in West Africa once,” he’d admitted. “It mimicked the outer husk of normal cells so well that, at first, researchers didn’t realize the seemingly normal cells were really carrying the virus.”
Jeb had sighed. “I know I’m onto something here, Dr. Houston.”
“You’re a smart kid,” Rex had commented.
“Yeah.” Jeb had looked sheepish. “I’m an underachiever. I skipped a grade, too. But I hate to study. Anyway, I’ve got a good eye for detail. And my granddad—they call him Pappy—has taught me lots.” Looking stricken after a moment, the boy had slowly shifted his eyes between Rex and Ariel. “Uh…that’s why…well, pardon me for pointing this out to you, sir. I mean, you are a doctor, and you’re with the CDC….”
“Feel free to say whatever you want,” Rex had said.
“Well, with all this going on,” Jeb had continued insistently, “how could you really trust people to give accurate reports about their own behavior? And if you were affected by a mutant virus, how would you know you’re attending to all the necessary details?”
Rex and Ariel had surveyed each other a long moment, then had looked at Jeb again. “Are you suggesting,” Rex had murmured, “that we might be infected, but because we’re so happy, we just don’t know it?”
Jeb had shrugged. “I’m no scientist or anything,” he’d ventured diplomatically. “But you have to at least consider the possibility….”
Ariel had. But then, seconds later, when she’d looked at Rex again, everything had just slipped from her mind. Besides, the idea of a camouflaged bug just seemed so farfetched. Like something from a TV show or movie. And then, at that precise moment, Rex had leaned and kissed her again, so she’d barely even noticed when Jeb had sighed loudly, stood and left the room.
Now she blinked, realizing that, once more, she and Rex had been staring at each other. She took in how sunlight hit his blond hair, turning yellower strands to white. Hunks were tucked neatly behind his ears, but a stray lock had tumbled onto his forehead. His blue eyes looked like starbursts, she decided.
Once more, she blinked. “We’d better check out Lawrence Nathan.” She frowned. “What was so strange about his first blood sample?”
Rex shook his head. “Just some trace. I’m not sure. I just want to look again.” He reached down, grasping her hand as he lifted the supplies from the passenger seat of the mobile lab, slammed the door and locked it. He handed her the notebook she’d been carrying, in case she heard something of use for her human-interest piece tomorrow.
“I think we entered the zone,” he murmured as they headed for room twelve, Lawrence Nathan’s room.
The zone. It was the phrase he used to describe the lost time he experienced when he was hard at work. Ariel was the same way. When deeply involved in writing a story, or researching a topic that might become of interest to the public, she, too, entered the zone. Hours could pass or a phone could ring right next to her ear, and Ariel would never even notice. She would simply realize she’d been swept away.
Other things did that to her, too. Riding horses in the snow on the mountains around Terror House. Swimming in the spring. She glanced beside her and thought, making love to Rex.
He stopped at the door to room twelve, his eyes focusing when he glanced at his watch. Then he looked her way, quizzically, concern crossing his features. “Didn’t we leave the house at nine-thirty?”
She considered. “Yeah. What time is it?”
“Eleven.”
How long had they just stood in the lot, gazing at each other and kissing? Trying
not to worry over that, she took a deep breath, pushing away any thoughts about the implications of what Jeb had said. “The zone,” she said simply.
“Right,” he murmured. “The zone.”
As he knocked on the door, he said, “I never entered it with somebody else.”
“Me, neither.”
But now they had. Somehow, they’d reached a special place that nothing could penetrate. As the door swung open, Ariel was determined to concentrate on the matter at hand. “Mr. Nathan,” she began, taking in the spry man in the doorway. He was probably sixty, but looked ten years younger, with his long silver hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had a mustache and a well-trimmed beard that hung a few inches below his chin. There was something noticeably vital about him, energetic and alive. His blue eyes danced as he studied them, making Ariel flush, since she suspected he’d seen them from the window. Given that she and Rex had been in the zone, it was hard to say just exactly how deep their kisses would have looked to an onlooker.
“Dr. Rex Houston, CDC,” Rex said, shifting his supplies into one hand and thrusting out the other. “We know you’re expecting us. We’re sorry to bother you on your vacation, too, but we only want to draw another blood sample, if you don’t mind, and then ask a few questions. It’ll only take a minute. We were really glad you showed up at the library, at the beginning of the week, but know you had to leave before the interview was complete.”
The man stepped back. “Come on in.”
ANGUS LYONS THRUST OUT his arm, then pumped a fist as Rex tied it off, his eyes never leaving the young woman he suspected was his daughter.
“This will pinch a little,” Rex said.
Angus wasn’t feeling a thing. He wasn’t even noticing the low-rent accommodations. Everything in Bliss had been booked, and staying at the Andersons’ bed-and-breakfast had been out of the question. The only room left was one at the Outskirts, which the proprietor had initially declined to rent, saying a crew he’d hired this winter hadn’t managed to finish remodeling before summer. Angus had slipped him a few extra dollars, though, and secured the place.
Unlike the other rooms, it was unrenovated, all right. The worn brown carpeting was half ripped up, grout was missing from the bathroom tiles, and extra furniture was stored haphazardly in a corner. The lumpy bed made pine needles in a mud hut feel like heaven, and the smell of disinfectant didn’t help. If there was a love bug in town, Angus figured he was a good candidate to be counted among the uninfected, since this place didn’t contain one iota of romanticism.
At least until he looked at Ariel.
She was the spitting image of the woman he’d met in the paradise of Bliss twenty-nine years ago. She had his Sammy’s bewitching blue eyes, and clear, perfect skin, but her hair was blonder and straighter. Definitely, she was an Anderson. He’d known that the first day she’d hit town when he’d watched her nearly mow down Elsinore Gibbet in a Honda. And then, when he’d shown up at the library last week, right after the town meeting announcing they had to have blood tests, he’d seen her again. He’d hoped to be the first to be tested and miss seeing anyone who might recognize him.
The first day, he’d recognized that old bitty, Elsinore Gibbet, from years ago, too. His sweet Samantha, whom he’d always called Sammy, had said Elsinore was as nosy as a summer day was long. According to the proprietor of the Outskirts, Elsinore was the resident who’d called the CDC, too, which figured. After all, years ago, it was Elsinore who’d first found out about the machinations of Angus’s father from Eli Saltwell. She’d told Sammy’s mother, who in turn, had told Great-gran….
And, of course, Sammy had already suspected.
Definitely, this was one small town. When Angus had seen Elsinore for the first time in nearly thirty years, he’d quickly slipped away, even though he’d been hoping to catch sight of Ariel or Samantha. Instead, he’d seen Great-gran, and if she’d seen him, that would have been the kiss of death. She’d been outside the hardware store, arguing with an older man.
Great-gran was one of the few people who’d still recognize him. Oh, he looked nothing like he had years ago, when he’d first come to Bliss with his father to convince the community to sell their property for development. Now, watching his blood fill a glass vial, he wondered what he’d been thinking all those years ago.
Maybe he’d never know. He’d been born rich, after all. The Core Coal Company was only one of his father’s many businesses. And if the truth be told, he’d only been thirty himself when he’d first hit Bliss. Sure, it was old enough to be an adult and think for oneself, but he’d never had much occasion to question the way his old man had conducted business. At least not until he’d met Sammy.
Angus had always worked for his father. He’d attended business school, then had walked right into the family business. Still, there was no excuse for his naiveté. He knew that now, and he’d paid for his oversights. He’d been so myopic. But then, his father had never considered that his plans for Bliss were wrong. When he’d begun making deals to buy land, he’d done so under the name of his land development company, Bright Futures. According to the logic of Lyons Sr., he’d simply gotten a better idea. Before Bright Futures did as promised and built resorts in the area, why not have his coal company reap even more profits from the area by strip-mining the rich coal reserves first?
When the lush vegetation grew back, then he’d build hotels and condos around Spice Spring. The location had been perfect. Central to the Northeast and Washington, D.C., and an easy hop from New York. The spring was pure, the land gorgeous. It offered swimming, fishing, hunting and riding. Hotels here could easily compete with the nearby famous Greenbriar Hotel, by catering to upscale clients seeking a getaway.
Of course, Angus’s dad had overlooked the simple fact that the people didn’t want their land strip-mined, and that it would take years for vegetation to grow back. Angus’s father had even argued that the locals would also benefit financially from mining, more than the resorts, so they’d accommodate.
Slowly, over the years, Angus had realized that his old man’s promises never materialized. And the people suffered. After realizing what his father had intended for Bliss, he’d never worked for his father again. Instead, he’d traveled the world, trying to repair damage done to the earth by industry.
“Are you okay?” Rex asked, his voice breaking the reverie.
“Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Nathan?” Ariel asked, obviously concerned that the loss of blood was making him feel faint. “Juice maybe?”
Her voice was like Sammy’s, too. It had a husky quality that steered a man’s mind toward bedrooms. And she was his, he thought. He could see himself—in her gait, the point to her chin, the tall angularity of her body. He could see his own father, too.
For all their disagreements, he missed the old man. He’d died seven years ago of a heart attack. Not long afterward, Angus had lost his wife, a woman he’d loved, but not in the same way he’d loved his Sammy. His wife had never known about her. It hadn’t seemed fair to tell her since she’d only have been hurt by the idea of him loving another woman.
Here one day, he thought now. Gone tomorrow. That’s how his own relationship with Sammy had ended years ago, abruptly. He’d felt as if his heart had been cut out. Finally his eyes meshed with Ariel’s and he shook his head. Glancing between her and Rex, he recognized that they were lovers. He’d been watching them from the window. Their love was palpable, something as natural as the air. Just like what he’d shared with Sammy.
He found his voice. “I’m fine.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure, Mr. Nathan?”
Hell no, he wanted to say. Your mother never even bothered to tell me you existed, even though she was right not to. That was the hardest thing. His lovely Sammy had been right to cut him off. Once she’d learned of the real agenda of his father’s company, it was all over between them. His own unwitting part in the deal wouldn’t have mattered. Sammy loved this town. She’d been a par
t of the mountains and the spring. The prettiest, most popular girl in town….
When he looked at the clock, he hoped Rex and Ariel would get out of here quickly. Samantha was supposed to be here at any minute, and she had no idea why she’d been asked to come. He’d sent a note by one of the local kids, asking her to meet him here. He’d used the name Lawrence Nathan. He still didn’t know exactly what he was going to say.
This wasn’t how he’d imagined seeing his Sammy again, either. No, he’d imagined asking her to some elegant restaurant. Or to some quiet, beautiful place outdoors, under an arbor of trees. But he wanted privacy, too. And this happened to be the only room in town. She could be further harmed if anyone recognized him and saw them together….
Maybe she wouldn’t even come. Why should she go visit some man she’d never heard of before, named Lawrence Nathan? His heart missed a beat, and he eyed Ariel once more, wishing he could just tell her. And yet, he had to ask Sammy and make sure Ariel was really his, even though he knew the truth in his heart, already. Besides, after all the trouble he’d caused, he’d never simply appear in Ariel’s life, not even if he was her father and had a right to do so.
Rex Houston started asking him questions, and Angus shifted his attention from the thoughts of Ariel and Sammy to Rex. Angus had liked him immediately. He was direct. Forthcoming. Didn’t play games.
After answering the first questions, Angus said, “I’m sorry. I really only have a few minutes. I’m expecting someone.”
“Only a couple more questions,” Rex said. “Just what we weren’t able to ask in the first interview. Have you ever been to Bliss before this trip?”
Angus hesitated. Possibly, this was leading somewhere that would require him admitting his real identity, which he couldn’t do just yet. But then, this was a CDC issue. “Actually,” he said, “yes.”