The White Iris

by Susanne Matthews

  “Are you saying someone deliberately injected the virus into the man, knowing he’d go to that camp and infect everyone? Didn’t they realize what would happen?” Miles asked.

  “They not only realized it; they counted on it,” Julie said. Trevor saw disgust mixed with fear in her eyes. “The targets were preselected by someone who knows these people—knows the way they act and what’s going on in their lives—someone they trust.”

  “That’s monstrous,” Cassie said. “If that was the good news, what’s the bad?”

  “The storm clouds have moved east, and when our surveillance satellite flew over the western part of Alaska it picked up a huge heat spike in the Chinook Cove area. They think we’re looking at multiple lightning strikes.”

  “But you don’t,” Trevor said, looking the doctor in the eyes and reading the disbelief there.

  He shook his head.

  “My God,” Julie said, her face a mask of horror, “the men we left there…”

  “They aren’t answering the radio.”

  “You said they blew up the snow crab boat, right?” Trevor asked.

  Julie nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

  “And no one should’ve visited that camp for another week?”

  “That’s right. The pilot made an unscheduled stop,” Julie said.

  “Then I doubt Mother Nature started that fire,” Trevor concluded.

  “You think someone used the storm as cover for what? Fire bombs?” Luke asked.

  “Maybe. An out-of-control fire would get rid of all the evidence and leave nothing behind to point to cytokine storms or a virus.”

  Luke huffed out a breath. “We’ll know soon enough,” he said. “There’s a cutter waiting to leave as soon as it can, and I’ll be taking the helicopter out then, too.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Trevor said, not prepared to argue the point. This was his case now. His responsibility.

  • • •

  The thought that those three men might be dead, burned alive by the monster who’d killed Maggie and the others, was almost too much for Julie to bear. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

  “Are you okay?” Trevor asked, picking up on her distress.

  She nodded, but his frown told her he didn’t agree. She thought he was going to reach for her, but at the last minute he pulled back. She could’ve used a touch of human kindness.

  “Go home and get some sleep,” Luke said. “There isn’t anything we can do until dawn and the storm ends. My men are resourceful. We actually practice for hostile situations like these. I’ve got three families to notify.”

  “Are you going to tell them the Coasties are dead?” she asked, dreading Luke’s answer.

  “Not dead—MIA,” he said. “I anticipate finding them alive in the morning. It’s all about the power of positive thinking. I’m not writing anyone off yet. If you still want to come, I’ll see you around nine, Trevor. That’s when we’ll take off. If you’re up for it, you might as well get a firsthand look at what this virus is capable of.”

  “I’ll be there.” Trevor opened the hatchback and placed the incubator and Hope in the back. “Will she be safe?” he asked.

  “Lock the brakes and put the luggage strap around her. I’ll drive slowly,” Miles answered.

  Despite the slow speed, the ride from the hospital to the Logan house was a short, silent one. As soon as the car stopped, a large man materialized out of the dark, and Julie started.

  “It’s Owens,” Trevor said. “He’s on our side.”

  Damn good thing. He could break me in two with one hand tied behind his back.

  “We set up the equipment in the basement,” Owens said, his Australian accent strong. “I’m on duty. Stack’s in the room downstairs—the one with the single bed. I’m inside until you’re settled. No one’s coming near this house unannounced.”

  “I hope you’ve got the right gear. It’s going to be a cold, wet one tonight,” Miles said. “Before you take up sentry duty, can you help me bring in the baby supplies?”

  The large man nodded. “You don’t have to worry about us,” he said. “We’re well equipped.”

  “Go on in, Julie,” Cassie said, more in control of herself. She wouldn’t want Ariel to know she was upset.

  “Have Trevor help you take the incubator downstairs. You and Hope can sleep down there. He can take the guest room you were using. I’ll get Ariel and be right back. I won’t tell her about the baby, and since she sleeps like the dead, it’ll give us a reprieve until morning.”

  It took just five minutes before the team had everything settled. Julie led Trevor, carrying the incubator, into the large bedroom furnished with a queen-sized bed and matching oak side tables and dressers. She turned on the lamp on the bedside table, noting the rocking chair in front of an electric fireplace. Nearby, a cradle and changing table proclaimed a baby slept here, too. Having Hope close by might even allow Julie to catch a few hours of rest. The room was chilly, so she flipped the switch on the heater, bathing the room in a warm, friendly glow.

  “It should warm up quickly,” she offered. “Put her over there between the two dressers. There’s a plug there. I don’t know how much power is left on her battery. I’m not sure how it recharges.”

  As soon as the incubator was plugged in, Julie moved to stand beside it.

  “She’s so little to have the weight of the world on her shoulders. What if I can’t do it? What if I can’t stop this thing? How many others will die? I can’t lose her.”

  The compassion on Trevor’s face was the last straw. Tears slipped unheeded down her cheeks once more, and he opened his arms to her, the gesture all she needed to turn into them. He pulled her close. As soon as he did, the dam broke, and she sobbed as if she’d never be able to stop. How long had it been since anyone had offered her physical comfort like this? Without regard for the consequences, she let his familiar scent and warmth soothe her while she mourned her own losses and grieved the dead she’d seen today. His hand rubbed familiar circles on her back while he held her tightly. He didn’t speak, and she wept into his shoulder until she had no tears left. Emotionally spent and exhausted, she hiccupped, suddenly embarrassed by her loss of control and the fact that she wanted to stay in his arms. She forced herself away from him.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me…”

  “It’s okay. Feeling better?”

  “Why do people assume crying makes you feel better?” she said, annoyed with herself and unable to keep the sharpness out of her voice. She sighed. “I didn’t mean to bite your head off. It’s been a really bad day—make that a bad couple of years.” The sound of Hope’s mewling cry caught her attention. “She’s the only good thing to come into my life in longer than I can remember. Poor sweetie, she’s probably wet and hungry. Thanks for the shoulder. I guess I do feel a little more like myself.” Although she was as far away from the take-charge person she was as she was from Atlanta.

  I’m tired. That’s all that’s wrong with me. This weepiness has nothing to do with Trevor, my biological clock, or my shattered dreams.

  “Anytime. Can I help?” he offered.

  It would be churlish to refuse. She nodded.

  “Let me change her,” she said, trying to make amends for her grumpiness. Fighting to restore her hold on her emotions, she smiled weakly. “You can rock her while I get her bottle.”

  As Julie handed him the crying infant, another unexpected wallop hit her aching heart. How many times had she dreamed of placing their baby in his arms, just like this? “I’ll be right back.”

  Hurrying to the kitchenette, she put the bottle on to heat and sat back, practicing her yoga breathing. Considering the emotional turmoil she was in, it was amazing she could function at all.

  Try to cram too much into the bag, and it’ll burst.

  After heating the bottle, she returned to the bedroom, where another bittersweet sight squeezed her soul. Trevor sat in the rocker, moving back and forth sl
owly, the baby lying quietly in his arms, looking up at him with questioning eyes while she chewed on her tiny fist. Julie’s heart flip-flopped.

  There’s nothing down this road but pain and disappointment.

  “Can I do it?” he asked, his face begging her not to refuse.

  “Sure.” She handed him the bottle, and hurried over to make the bed, anything but watch him feed “their” child. This charade was going to be far harder than she’d imagined when Luke suggested it.

  “I suppose while I feed her I can tell you what’s been happening,” Trevor said

  To him, this was a case and nothing more, dragging her out of her momentary fantasy into reality as efficiently as a bucket full of ice water.

  “Here’s what we know so far…” Trevor began, bringing her up to date.

  “And he’s sure the vaccine originated in Reno?” she asked, anger and confusion warring within her.

  “Positive.”

  What the hell’s happening there?

  “Dalton never mentioned the facility was anything but a research and rehabilitation site. It doesn’t make sense they’d be preparing vaccine there. And you say he’s in charge of the facility? That isn’t what he told me, either. I got the impression he answered to others.”

  “Just because he’s in charge doesn’t mean he isn’t accountable. The facility is part of the White Iris Foundation, so he’d have a board of directors and a CEO. What can you tell me about him?”

  “Not as much as I thought I could,” she said angrily. “What is it about men and the truth? Can’t any of you be up front and open?”

  “It’s not always that easy,” he said.

  “Of course it is. The truth’s easy, Trevor. It sets you free. It’s lying that chains you down.” She wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to protect herself from the pain another betrayal had caused. “Like I told you before, his research is cancer based, so why his lab would be working on vaccine is a mystery, unless he thinks having the flu may make a person more susceptible to some cancers … I suppose it’s possible. If I weren’t dead, I could contact him and ask. He’s no more than thirty, well respected in his field—even more than I thought if he’s in charge. He’s married. His wife just had a baby.”

  And he kept that quiet until I forced the truth from him. When it comes to men, boy, do I ever choose badly.

  “Tom said he was working at the CDC. Doing what?”

  “Looking into viruses that might cause cancer, but the flu wasn’t one of them. He just got permission for human trials on a new cancer treatment.”

  Trevor set down the empty bottle and moved the baby onto his shoulder to burp her.

  “You’re quite the expert,” she said sarcastically, and then bit her tongue. “I’m sorry. I’m tired.”

  “My neighbor in Quantico had twins. Her husband’s a marine. I helped out. I can even change diapers. I like kids, remember? Even wanted a few of my own at one time.”

  Julie looked away, struck by the baldness of his words.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was uncalled for. Bringing up the past won’t make this easier for either of us.”

  “You’re right,” she said, hiding her hurt. “Let me go up and get my night clothes and stuff, and then I need to get some sleep. Hope will be awake again in another three or four hours, and I want to get to the lab first thing tomorrow to look over my samples.”

  The baby burped loudly, causing Trevor to check his shoulder.

  “No surprises. We’re good,” he said, standing. “Go get your gear.”

  When Julie returned, Trevor stood looking down at the sleeping child.

  “What happens to her when this is over?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Julie admitted. “I suppose they’ll try to find her relatives.”

  But I won’t give her up without a fight.

  “Goodnight, Jules. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Trevor left the room and it seemed emptier than it should. Seeing him with Hope had thawed the ice around her heart. God! She still wanted him, as badly if not more than she had two years ago, but could she have a sexual relationship and let it go at that? He hadn’t changed, not really, not where it mattered.

  And what makes you think he even wants you?

  Damn, but he looked good in his casual clothes, his spiked hair, the cowlick she remembered from their youth, the one his mother would try to hold down with gel. As an adult he’d worn his hair so short it hadn’t mattered. But now, being in his arms earlier had felt like coming home.

  She shook her head. What a fool she was. He’d laid down the rules. The past was as dead today as it had been in July. Now, if she could just get her damn heart and body to remember that.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Julie, for God’s sake, take a break. You’ve been at this for hours,” Cassie’s voice came over the intercom.

  “In a minute,” Julie answered, excitedly. “I’ve got something here. It’s growing in the pig cells I cultured. I’ve moved some of it into mouse and chicken cells. It grows at an incredible rate, much faster than the virus should. Have you heard from Luke yet?”

  “No, but he told us they’d maintain radio silence. He doesn’t want anyone to know this is anything but a routine reconnaissance on a potential lightning strike. The Washburn should be there by now, but the captain’s under strict orders not to proceed to Chinook Cove until they get Luke’s permission.”

  “I hate being outside the loop. It’s like this virus. I think I know what it is, but then, it doesn’t behave as it should. I’m culturing some of my own cells to see if it will grow on them, too.”

  “If it was bioengineered,” Cassie said, “maybe it’s not stable.”

  “Stable or not, it kills people. There’s something else that’s bothering me. Assuming I’m right and he’s field-testing the virus, what makes Alaska so attractive? Felix is pure-blooded Aleut, but Maggie was only part Aleut, and Mr. X is white. One of my techs is checking on the rest of the crew of the Alaskan Gold. I’ll ask Luke about the villagers once we identify them. I couldn’t find the man I have in any of the recovered ID cards, and that worries me. We had twenty-two bodies and the same number of cards, so who is he and where’s the missing person? I won’t even know who it is until we have the others identified.”

  “Maybe he came in on that boat you mentioned.”

  “I suppose it’s possible, and the men just didn’t find his papers. I mean, maybe they didn’t look hard enough. The problem is, the side effects of the flu in Native Americans are often more severe than in other races, especially pneumonia. If the Prophet wants to test his virus on different races, it would be a place to start.”

  “So the virus might not be as bad in the general population?”

  “It’s too early to tell, and I could be way off-base about the racial thing. I’ve found something else in Maggie’s blood, something I don’t recognize.” She chewed her lower lip. “If I could see the pathogen before it starts to change ... Trevor has people in Nevada, where the infected vials originated. I know the man he claims is in charge there, and none of this makes sense.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “He’s currently testing some cancer drugs he’s developed at the CDC. He works with viruses, but not flu viruses.”

  “Think carefully before you answer. Could he have taken those missing viruses?”

  “Dalton? You’re kidding. He wasn’t even there when they went missing.”

  But he was there when they were returned.

  “Just asking. You said you thought it might’ve been an inside job.”

  “Dalton’s a humanitarian, dedicated to making life better for people. White Iris Pharmaceuticals isn’t on the list of authorized suppliers. Brad and I signed off on that list the day before the accident. Maybe whoever stole the virus is using Dalton’s facility as a shield, and if something goes wrong, he’ll get blamed.”

  “To me, the fact you kn
ow this is just one more reason someone might want you dead.”

  Crap.

  Dalton could be intense, so much so that he’d made her nervous at times, and he had asked her about those particular viruses—but he wouldn’t do something like this. As she’d told Trevor, it didn’t fit with his research, and if it didn’t fit, it would hold no interest for him—sort of like her working with bugs.

  But I did research on insects for Ellie—only for Ellie.

  “Look, you’ve got at least twenty petri dishes set up in there,” Cassie said, breaking into her musings. “It’s the safest place on the base, and there’s someone in there all the time. Killing yourself isn’t going to help anybody. What about those antigen cultures from Hope’s blood?”

  “They seem to be growing, but at a much slower rate than the virus, which makes no sense, either. What time is it?”

  “After eleven. Hope should want a bottle soon. You haven’t even seen her in her fancy new duds. I bought everything the commissary had in her size, including the cutest little snowsuit. I got a stroller, too.”

  Julie smiled for the first time all morning. “There’s nothing for me to do but wait for the cultures to grow, and we both know I’ll never win an award for patience. If this does work, I’ll have viable results in three or four days, although it could take longer, but since this flu kills so quickly … I didn’t sleep much last night. Holding her will renew my energy.”

  “We’ll be in the lounge.”

  Julie secured the last petri dish. She hadn’t told Trevor about the missing vials from the CDC, but she’d have to come clean tonight. She was almost positive she was looking at something derived from those two pathogens. She needed time, but that was the one thing she didn’t have. If only she could identify the mystery substance.