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The White Iris

Page 14

by Susanne Matthews

“That’s why I thought of the oleander at first, and then he used the sarin, but I’m convinced it’s all smoke and mirrors to hide his true purpose. I believe he has someone working on a virus like dengue fever or Ebola. That means Ellie’s death as well as Lenore’s can be laid at his feet, and right now, keeping you alive and safe is my number-one priority.”

  Julie looked over at Cassie and saw the fear in her eyes. It wasn’t fair to stay here and save herself if she could save others.

  “And your gut’s always right,” she answered, resigned. “Do you want me to come back? There isn’t much I can do until I know what I’m up against. I can’t begin working on a vaccine until I know what the virus looks like. Unfortunately, unless we get a miracle, it may take many deaths before I can find something viable. I’m good at my job, Trevor, but I need help. I can’t get back until the weather clears. And I guess there’ll be stuff that needs to be done for Lenore as well.”

  She stopped, emotions clogging her throat. Lenore, like her, had no family. Who’d claim her body? See that she got a proper funeral? Hell, where did she even want to be buried? Did she want to be cremated? Her friend had so loved Minion Two. The cats! Someone had to take care of the cats. Before she could speak again, Trevor did.

  “God, no,” he said with more vehemence than she’d have expected. “I don’t want you coming back until I figure out what’s going on here. Where are you, by the way? Are you safe?”

  “Yes,” she said and chuckled as nerves took over. “I’m probably safer than I’ve ever been. I’m on the Coast Guard base in Kodiak, Alaska, but someone will have to look after my cats. Lenore was doing it, but Trevor, whoever killed her must know I’m away. I left a note for Lenore on the fridge.”

  “Did you tell her where you were going?”

  “No, only that I’d be out of town for a while and to look after the cats.”

  “Don’t worry about the damn cats or anything else. I’ll take care of things. What the hell are you doing in Alaska?”

  His tone implied she was crazy to be there, and after everything else he’d told her tonight, it was the last straw. He had no business judging her or telling her where she could go. He’d forfeited that right two years ago.

  What am I doing in Alaska? Staying alive.

  “My job,” she said testily. “A group of fishermen landed a partial body along with their catch. No one here can figure out what killed him, so Cassie asked if I’d take a look.”

  “Look for what?” Trevor’s voice conveyed more than normal curiosity.

  “The man seems have died from a cytokine storm.”

  “What the hell is that? And try to keep it simple, please.”

  Julie nodded, realized he couldn’t see her, then explained the process to him as simply as she could.

  “Is that common?”

  His anxiety was clear.

  “More common than you’d think,” she said. It probably wouldn’t allay his concern, but she didn’t have any words that would. Glancing at Cassie, Julie could see her adding things up in her head. If someone had bioengineered this virus, they’d come up with a doozy. She had to get more answers—and quickly.

  “Can it be stopped?”

  “Yes,” Julie answered, her medical training coming to the forefront. “But you have to disable T-cell responses, and you have to do it quickly. Are you thinking my John Doe might be the Prophet’s work?”

  “Just indulge me here for a minute. What kind of diseases can cause a cytokine storm?”

  Pulling herself together, she spoke slowly and succinctly. “I’ve seen cytokine storm deaths associated with untreated cases of the flu, specifically the swine flu and the bird flu, but you have to understand something. Cytokine storms don’t kill those usually susceptible to the flu—the aged and infirm—they kill healthy people. In fact, the healthier a person is, the more likely their body is to respond to the flu that way. It’s one of the reasons the seasonal flu vaccine is so important. If a person gets sick, the body recognizes the pathogen and doesn’t overreact.”

  “People with the flu burn up, don’t they?”

  “They do. Fever is one of the more common symptoms.”

  “How easily would it be to create a new flu virus?”

  “I don’t know, but you wouldn’t need a new one,” she said. There were two already out there that could cause a pandemic in a matter of weeks. “You’d just need one we weren’t expecting. Flu is usually airborne, spread from one person to another. It can be on contaminated surfaces like a doorknob or in water droplets in your breath. In confined spaces, it would spread faster.”

  “Confined spaces, like a fishing boat?”

  “Yes.” My God. If John Doe was a test case, how many others might be out there contaminating those around them? No scientist worth his salt ever tested only once.

  “Have you figured out what killed your guy?”

  “Not yet, but I should have some answers tomorrow.” At least she hoped she would.

  “I need you to call me as soon as you know something—anything. If someone were working on a flu virus and wanted to see how it worked, he’d want to test it out, wouldn’t he?”

  “He would, and someplace small and isolated like a boat would be a good place to do it. There’s something else you need to know. Whatever boat my John Doe was on blew up.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Then it’s critical we find out who this guy is and what boat he was on. You know why I believe the Prophet’s after you, but who do you think is following you and why? What was the killer looking for in your apartment?”

  Here was the opening she needed to tell him everything, but did she have the right to violate a presidential order?

  “Trevor, is this a secure line—are you sure no one can listen to our conversation?”

  “Yes. I’m still at the station. The security around here is tighter than Fort Knox.”

  “Then, while I can’t be positive, I know something I’m not supposed to know. I’m not sure it has anything to do with this, but I should be able to verify that by tomorrow. It may have to do with my work before Ellie died. I was working with a highly virulent pathogen … I can’t tell you any more over the phone. It’s complicated. I worked hard to slip out of Atlanta unseen, certain I was being watched … That phone message about the sarin you left me—someone erased it before I could hear it. Knowing that, I ran when I got the chance. Speaking of which, how did you find me?”

  “After Keith Grant called, I got to wondering about whom you might’ve kept in touch with. I remembered Miles and Cassie, but I had a hell of a time remembering Logan. I looked up volcano experts until the name clicked. I doubt whoever is following you will know about an old friend.”

  “But they will. If they erased my calls, they may have been listening in on others. They know Miles called and that I’d planned to come here.”

  “But not exactly where ‘here’ is,” Miles said. “I mentioned I was studying volcanoes in Alaska, not where I was studying them.”

  She shivered. If it hadn’t been for Miles’s call, the first one in two years, she’d have been at home in bed, and whoever had killed Lenore would have murdered her, as well.

  “I’ll have to call Keith and tell him…”

  “Don’t tell him where I am,” she said quickly—too quickly to mask her fear.

  “I have no intention of doing that. The fewer people who know you’re alive, the better. By the way, when did you leave Atlanta?”

  “I took a flight to Las Vegas at ten o’clock last night. I wanted to outrun the storm.” And ditch whatever tail I had.

  “Julie, you have to stay where you are. I’ll come to you as soon as I can, but it may take a week before I can get away from here. Your life’s in danger—I know it, and so do you—but I won’t let anything happen to you. The Prophet has incredible resources and eyes and ears everywhere. Promise me you won’t step foot off that base until I get there.”

 
; The anxiety in his voice tinged with something else she couldn’t quite identify swayed her. They might not be a couple any longer, and he was still a class A jerk in many ways, but she’d never doubted his ability as an agent, and she wouldn’t start now.

  “I promise.”

  “Trevor,” Miles said, stepping into the conversation. “I’ll see to it that she’s safe. If you think it’s necessary, I’ll have the base commander assign her a protective detail.”

  “Do they know who she is?”

  “No, she’s not using her name. I thought that was strange, but after what I’ve heard tonight, it makes a lot more sense,” Miles said.

  “She’ll be okay on the base. The fewer people who realize who she is, the easier it’ll be to keep her location a secret. I know you guys are supposed to follow the chain of command, but what the brass doesn’t know can’t come back to bite you. I’ll call when I have more information, and I’ll let you know when to expect me. Take care of her for me, Miles. Goodnight.”

  Had he hung up?

  “Julie, can you take me off speaker for a minute?” he asked softly.

  She reached for the handset and pushed the button, raising the phone to her ear.

  “You’re off.”

  “I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am about Lenore. When Keith told me he’d found a body in your apartment…” He choked up.

  Tears brimmed in her eyes. She’d missed him so much, more than she’d even admitted to Ellie, but she wouldn’t open herself up to that kind of heartache again.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, forcing her emotions down. “Thank you for caring enough to worry about me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you stop the Prophet.”

  “For now, just stay safe,” he answered. “I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

  “Goodnight, Trevor.”

  “Goodnight, Julie.”

  The line went dead.

  Placing the phone back in the charger, Julie swiped at her eyes with her fist, trying to stem the flow of tears trickling down her cheeks. Cassie handed her a tissue.

  “I’m sorry about Ellie and your friend,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Julie answered haltingly and blew her nose as the tears continued to fall.

  Damn. What’s wrong with me?

  She was overtired, emotional, and terrified. Wasn’t that reason enough to cry? Yes, she’d gotten her best friend and her cousin killed, and some madman was after her, but this emotional breakdown didn’t seem to be about any of that. It was all about Trevor, and she’d sworn she wouldn’t shed another tear for him. She sniffled. Everything was catching up to her at once.

  And why shouldn’t it? I’m not Wonder Woman. I’ve lost more in two years than most people do in a lifetime.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of those people who looked beautiful when they cried. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen; her nose rivaled Rudolph’s and dripped. Even her lips got puffy.

  Pulling herself together, she smiled weakly. “I’m really sorry I got you mixed up in this.”

  “Hey. We called you, remember? And thank God we did. If you hadn’t left when you did last night…” Cassie’s own eyes brimmed with tears. “Dang it, we’re both going to end up crying like babies. My hormones are all out of whack with this pregnancy. Trevor thinks John Doe is part of this and so do you. A test case of some sort?”

  Julie nodded, hoping to stave off another bout of asthma.

  “It would make sense. Trials are a standard part of the scientific method, and he’d need to know exactly how his virus behaved. A remote location would work well for him.”

  “Who is this guy?” Miles asked. “Some foreign terrorist who doesn’t like our culture and politics, never mind our religion or lack of it?”

  “No. He’s homegrown, an American cult leader who calls himself the Prophet and thinks he’s on a mission from God to destroy non-believers. He doesn’t believe in equality for women, so I suppose that’s another nail in my coffin.”

  “Another religious fanatic. Christ, those assholes are coming out of the woodwork. I’m sick of them and their crusades,” he said.

  “So am I,” Cassie said. “But sadly, we can’t bury our heads in the sand like ostriches. If there’s something bad happening, I want to know what it is. I need details.” She rubbed her belly, as if comforting the child growing there. “I’ll go make some hot cocoa.”

  Miles waited until Cassie was out of the room.

  “Okay, Julie. I can add two and two just as well as my wife can, and while I’m not a doctor, I got the gist of what you were talking about. If I hadn’t called you last night, you’d have been there when that killer invaded your apartment. Now, that means two things. First, I saved your life. Second, someone was listening to that call, knows exactly who John Doe is, and murdered you, or rather Lenore, to stop you from coming here. Does that about sum it up?”

  “More or less.”

  “What the hell are you caught up in? I want the truth. I don’t mind protecting you, but if I’m putting my wife and children in danger, I want to know exactly what I’m up against.” Miles led the way back into the living room. He turned off the television set and looked expectantly at her. “I know you well enough to know you’re hiding something, not just from me and Cassie, but from Trevor. I want to know what it is. I may not be regular Coast Guard, but they have my back. I don’t want to piss off Captain Reynolds by keeping something from him that he has a right to know.”

  “You do have the right to know everything, although my telling you constitutes treason.” His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t interrupt her. Julie licked her lips. “Someone took two virus specimens from the CDC lab in July.” She continued to explain what had happened. “I didn’t think anyone knew I knew, but…”

  “Oh my God,” Cassie said, placing the tray with the three mugs of hot cocoa on the coffee table. “Which viruses?”

  “H1N1 and H5N1.”

  “That’s not good. Is one of those what you expect to see in the spinal fluid? Either of those viruses could account for the cytokine storm.”

  “Either one of those or something bioengineered from them.”

  “Who else knows about those viruses?

  “The president and his advisors. Ellie and Brad knew. No one was supposed to know I did—”

  “Do you realize what you’re saying?” Miles interrupted. “This sounds like the plot from one of those made-for-TV movies.”

  “I know. It sounds crazy, and that’s why I wanted to see John Doe for myself. I need to trace whatever killed him. Find out when and how he was exposed, how long he had it before he showed symptoms, and how long before those symptoms turned deadly. Once I do, I’ll know what I’m up against.”

  “And what will you do about it?” Cassie asked, her voice tinged with fear.

  “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Trevor ended the call, noting he had less than 4 percent power left on his cell phone. He rummaged around in his desk drawer looking for the charger, then remembered it was plugged in at home next to the coffeemaker. Damn. He turned the cell phone off and tossed it on the desk.

  He hadn’t expected to actually find Julie at Miles Logan’s number. He’d just hoped Miles might have a clue as to where she might be. Hearing her speak, knowing she was annoyed, had been music to his ears. She was alive, and that was all that mattered.

  Alaska! Of all the places in the United States for her to be, that was the last one he’d have chosen. What was it with that woman and cold, mountainous terrain?

  Like it or not, he’d have the Bureau send someone to replace him here in Boston while he went to Kodiak to figure out how to keep her safe. He needed to know what she’d been working on and how it had gotten her on the Prophet’s radar. Even if it meant giving up his position as task force leader, he’d be the one providing Julie’s personal protection, and that was all there was to it. She was too valuable an asset to trust to anyone else, a
nd while she might balk at having him around day in and day out, she’d have to accept it. That was all there was to it. The Prophet wouldn’t touch a hair on her head. And if Trevor had to be in the coldest, snowiest place in the world to take care of her, by God he’d do it.

  Knowing Julie as well as he did, she’d insist on helping him stop the threat, but coming back East to work on a vaccine at the CDC would be like handing a stone life-preserver to a drowning man. Maybe, with all the resources he had, Jacob could help set up a secret laboratory for her somewhere—maybe in Alaska, even if Trevor preferred someplace warmer.

  Keeping her out of danger wouldn’t be easy. She was one of the few people who could put the Prophet out of business. He poured another inch of bourbon into the coffee mug and picked up the phone on his desk, dialing the number Keith had given him. He winced when he saw the time. No doubt Keith was long gone, but he’d leave a voice message to have him call him first thing in the morning. Trevor needed a big favor from his friend, one that could land them both in hot water if the plan backfired.

  “Grant,” Keith answered on the second ring.

  “It’s Trevor. I was getting ready to leave a message. Is this a secure line?”

  “It is. I’m at Headquarters finishing up some paperwork. Have you got something for me?”

  “I do, maybe even more than you want. Has Lenore’s name been released to the press?”

  “No, not yet. The police commissioner will issue a statement in the morning after he speaks to the captain.”

  “Then I want you to say that the body found in the apartment has been tentatively identified as Julie’s.”

  “Why the hell would I do that?”

  “To protect her. I’m sure you know all about the case I’m working on here in Boston. The Harvester/Prophet has been in and out of the media for months.”

  “Yeah, I heard about it. That guy’s been leading you around by the nose. Glad to see you got that bastard Pierce, but what does this have to do with Julie?”

  “One thing that hasn’t been leaked to the press is the Prophet’s plan to unleash a biological weapon on the country. We think it’ll be a virus that will destroy millions, cleansing Eden, as the Prophet calls this place. Think Noah and the Flood. There weren’t too many left to pick up the pieces when it was over.”

 

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