Nate poked his head inside. One of the paintings hanging in the entryway featured an off-center, cartoon-like image of a man’s face. “Can’t say much for this guy’s taste for art,” Nate whispered.
Alex snorted and shook her head. “So much for your career as an art appraiser. I’m pretty sure that’s a Picasso.”
He shrugged. “It still looks like crap to me.”
Somewhere in the home, Felicia yelled, “Ay, Dios mío!” Nate detected the scent of something burning.
Moments later, Felicia returned and handed Alex a business card. “Dr. Chalmers’s new phone is on there.” With a pained expression, she asked, “Can I go? Food is almost burnt and I need fix it.”
Alex held up the card and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Felicia. We’ll get in touch with Dr. Chalmers. You better go rescue that meal. We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
With an expression of relief, Felicia turned away and closed the door.
As they walked back toward their car, Alex handed Nate the business card. He dialed the agent in charge of establishing the perimeter. “Keep watch over the house. We’ll track down the lead we just received. He may end up coming back here.”
“Roger that. I’ll keep you posted.”
Nate then dialed the number to a special FBI call center set up for this case. “Special Agent Nathaniel Carrington, I need a location trace on the following number.” He read Chalmers’s number off the card.
Nate heard typing in the background and a woman’s voice said, “That number is linked to a Verizon account. We have active cell tower connectivity. I’m sending the current triangulated GPS coordinates to your car’s tracking system.”
Nate turned to Alex. “We’ve got an active trace. Let’s go get him.”
###
Frank breathed in the cool crisp air and smiled. When both women had been at home, he’d been browbeaten any time he’d moved a muscle. Now that Kathy had left for school, he had a little more breathing room.
He loved his daughter dearly, but he was glad she was back at school—where she needed to be. Besides, he’d had enough of her and Megan bickering with each other. Neither one would ever admit it, but those two women were exactly alike.
Kathy had been gone a week, and ever since then, he’d been back to rolling out of bed before dawn, trying to regain the strength he’d had before he’d gotten sick. The deep aches he’d felt in his joints had mostly gone, and even though he’d not spoken much about it, he’d figured that he would have been six feet under by now. But if he still had some life left, he was going to live it, not while it away in bed or sitting in a chair.
Nor was he going to waste it with a bunch of doctors. Megan wasn’t happy about that, but she too had tried to reach the administrator at the clinical trial, and had had no more success than he had. So for now at least, he was free to do as he pleased.
“I’m not going to waste this second chance at living my life waiting around for doctors,” Frank said to nobody in particular.
As Frank walked the quarter mile to the nearest pasture, Jasper ran in circles, his breath blowing jets of steam in the early dawn. “You look like a steam engine puffing away like that, you crazy dog.”
The dark-brown Labrador yipped with excitement as he continued running around, expending some of his boundless energy.
Frank crested the hill between him and the pasture—and stopped suddenly. Jasper stopped beside him and let out a long, low whine.
Frank peered ahead and his blood ran cold.
He picked up the pace and Jasper began barking like mad. He leaped in front of Frank, almost making him trip.
“What the hell!”
Frank sidestepped Jasper and his heart fell into his stomach as he looked past the near edge of the fenced-in pasture.
The day before, there had been over one hundred healthy head of cattle in the pasture, all of them pregnant, with birthing expected to start in less than a month.
“It can’t be,” Frank groaned as he panned his gaze across the frost-covered pasture. All of the animals were lying on their sides, motionless.
“Holy hell!” Frank nearly jumped out of his skin when his radio buzzed. He pressed a button on the two-way radio and said, “Yes?”
“Frank, I asked you to wake me. I was going to make you breakfast and—”
“Megan! The breeding cows are dead. All of them. The entire—”
Frank cut himself off when he heard the call of a distressed calf. He couldn’t make out where it was coming from, other than it was somewhere among the bodies.
“Megan, I think there’s a calf alive in there.” He started once more toward the pasture. Jasper raced in front of him, growled, and bared his teeth.
“Franklin O’Reilly!” Megan yelled through the radio. “Don’t you dare go near that herd! I’m calling the vet—”
“But Megan—”
“No, I mean it. There might be some disease or something you could catch.” Megan’s voice cracked. “Please, come home.”
Megan’s distress penetrated Frank’s fog of shock. “You’re right. I’ll come back. But call Doc Johnson. He needs to get out here right away.”
Chapter Sixteen
Waiting in the car outside Eastview Mall, Nate tapped the refresh button on the tracking monitor for the umpteenth time. The display redrew itself, showing the triangulated location of Dr. Chalmers’s cell phone “How long can this guy shop?” he grumbled.
Alex twisted her lithe frame in the passenger seat, cracking her back. “I still say we should just go in.”
“I told you, this place is swarming with people at this time of day. We’re better off waiting for him to go somewhere less crowded so we can pick him out.”
Alex pointed at the display. “The dot is moving!”
“Shit.” Nate brought his seat back to a more upright position and turned the ignition to the Chevy Suburban. The engine roared to life.
As Nate slowly weaved through the parking lot, Alex said, “It looks like he’s on Commons Blvd and… no, wait, he’s getting on NY-96 North.”
Nate hit the gas and maneuvered the car through traffic. “We’re looking for a black Mercedes, right?”
“Yes, black Mercedes.” Alex opened her notepad and flipped through the first couple pages until her finger lit on some hastily scribbled notes. “Right after he left his previous job, he dumped his old car and applied for tags for a brand-new Mercedes. Look for an S-series with temp tags.”
Nate scanned the heavy midday traffic and shook his head. “I don’t see anything yet.”
Alex tapped the refresh button. The flashing dot jumped ahead. “And he just took I-490 westbound.”
“Crap.” Nate spun the wheel hard to the right, barely sneaking onto the highway on-ramp.
His cell phone rang, and he answered with a tap of the phone icon on the steering wheel. “Carrington, what’s up?”
“Nate, it’s Bill Wallace.” Bill was the veteran agent in charge of maintaining watch on the doctor’s home. “I got a call from the eye in the sky. Evidently, soon after you left, the maid called our suspect. He knows someone’s hunting for him.”
“Well, Alex and I are on him. It looks like he’s heading back toward his house.”
“All right, we’ll keep an eye out.”
###
After nearly forty-five minutes of stop-and-go traffic, Nate’s patience was wearing thin. He glanced at the display and asked, “Are you sure he got off here?”
Alex pressed the “refresh” button once again. After a short delay, the flashing dot appeared on the map and she said, “Yes, it looks like he must have gotten off at exit 10.”
Nate veered off the highway and focused on the nearby cars as he headed toward the location on the map.
As they approached the signal, Alex hit “refresh” yet again and as the screen redrew the cell phone’s location, she concluded, “I think he’s stopped. The signal
hasn’t moved at all.”
“I don’t see any damned Mercedes anywhere.”
“Turn right on Lyell Avenue.”
Nate flicked his attention back and forth between the street and the tracking display as they approached the cell phone’s location.
Alex pointed at a large parking lot. “The signal is coming from there.”
Nate turned into the lot. “I still don’t see his car.” He scanned the large expanse of asphalt and his stomach churned as he realized where he was. “What the hell is he doing at the US Postal Service’s processing center?”
Alex shook her head. “I have no idea.”
Nate pulled into a parking spot. “Let’s find out.”
###
They stepped into a warehouse that was clearly for employees only. Nate couldn’t help but think they’d made some kind of mistake.
One of the tractor trailers was unloading large baskets of mail for further processing. He approached a man wearing a US Postal Service uniform and flashed his badge. “I’m Special Agent Carrington with the FBI. I’m looking for a man who I believe just arrived here. He’s around forty-five, blond hair, six foot two, two hundred pounds. Have you seen anyone like that around? Name is Steve Chalmers.”
The rough-looking worker shook his head. “There’s definitely nobody by that name. I’d know. I’m the current shift’s processing manager.”
Nate panned his gaze across the warehouse and the countless stacks of mail waiting to be sorted. He frowned. “Did you by chance see a black Mercedes in the last ten to fifteen minutes?”
The manager gave a crooked smile. “We don’t see too many Mercedes around here. I’m pretty sure I’d have noticed one if it had come by.”
Feeling a strong sense of disgust, Nate wondered if the number they’d been tracking was wrong, or maybe the triangulation they’d been following was wholly inaccurate.
Alex nudged Nate and whispered, “Why don’t we just call Chalmers and see if we can flush him out?”
Nate sighed. “Not like there’s anything to lose at this stage.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the doctor’s number.
Putting the phone against his ear, he heard a ring, followed by another.
One of the men in the warehouse yelled, “Hey boss! We’ve got a package that’s buzzing.”
The man’s words played slowly in Nate’s mind.
Oh no.
Nate hung up and sprinted to the man who’d just yelled. “Which package?”
The mail processor pointed at a small Priority Mail shipping box. It was addressed to Tops Pharmacy in Hamlin, New York.
With a bad feeling, Nate hit redial on his phone.
The box immediately began to vibrate.
“Son of a bitch!” Nate grabbed the box from the processing line.
“You’re not allowed to open that without a subpoena!” the boss yelled, rushing toward them.
Alex showed the manager a photocopy of the court order while Nate ripped open the box.
Gritting his teeth, Nate peered into the box and spied a smartphone.
They’d been had.
###
Dr. Al-Siddiqui entered the examination room and gave Kathy a friendly smile. “Good afternoon, Miss O’Reilly. I hope you had a good winter break.”
Kathy shrugged. “It was certainly an eventful one.” That was an understatement.
The doctor opened her chart. “Let’s see, we’re following up on your fatigue and anemia, is that correct?”
“Yes, but…” The truth was, Kathy felt great. No fatigue at all. She’d considered canceling the follow-up appointment, but felt like she should check in just to be sure. “I actually feel fine. No fatigue at all.”
“Well, that’s fantastic.” Dr. Al-Siddiqui pulled down the wall-mounted otoscope. “Let’s just do a basic exam and get you on your way.”
The doctor checked her ears, listened to her breathing, shone a light in her eyes, took her blood pressure, and measured her temperature.
“Your temperature is 100.2,” he said. “You don’t feel any symptoms of a slight fever?”
“Really? No, I feel really good. Better than I’ve felt in months.”
“Well, it’s not so high that I’m particularly concerned.” He flipped a page in her chart. “Seems like you were running a low-grade fever last time you were here as well. Perhaps you just have a high baseline temperature. Some people do.” He scribbled something in her chart, then looked up. “Well, everything looks fine, so if you’re feeling great, then I recommend you just keep doing whatever you’re doing.”
As Kathy left the clinic, she realized he was right—she must be doing something correctly, because she’d never felt such a satisfying energy coursing through her limbs. She felt like… like a new person.
She smiled and wondered if she’d brought any of her running gear to school.
###
The private jet accelerated down the runway, pressing Nate against his seat. Gripping the leather-wrapped armrests, he felt his insides shift as the jet climbed away from Dulles International Airport.
The speaker overhead crackled and the captain’s voice broadcast through the otherwise empty cabin.
“Special Agents Carrington and Ragheb, we just received clearance for a change in flight plan. Instead of landing at McCarran International in Las Vegas, we’ll be flying into Homey Airport.
“FBI personnel will be waiting to take both of you from the Groom Lake facility directly to the incident area.
“That should shave about ten minutes from our flight. The expected touchdown will be approximately 3:45 p.m., four hours and twelve minutes from now.”
“Groom Lake?” said Alex. “Isn’t that where Area 51 is supposed to be?”
“I’ve been there,” Nate said. “Didn’t see any aliens.”
They’d received a directive two hours earlier. A biological hazard had been uncovered outside of Ash Springs, Nevada, and the local FBI investigators had requested help processing the scene. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was connected with his last visit to the area.
“Well, aliens or not,” Alex said, “you know if it was some run-of-the-mill chemical spill or something, they’d be calling out the FEMA folks, not us. Our guys on the ground must suspect criminal activity.”
Nate shrugged. “I just hope they also called FEMA. Because I didn’t sign up for clean-up duty.”
The speaker above their seats crackled again. “One more thing, agents. We just received a priority communication from the Deputy Director. Be advised that there are fatalities on the scene. Level-four containment procedures will be required for all gathered evidence.”
“Shit,” Nate muttered. “What the hell are we getting ourselves into?”
###
A half dozen FBI agents were waiting on the tarmac as Nate and Alex stepped off the plane. As several of them set to work loading Nate and Alex’s supplies in an SUV, the local agent in charge introduced himself as Agent Mark Cross.
The agent leading the group shook hands with Nate and motioned to the other local agents. “Team, this is Nate Carrington. He’ll be leading the investigation for this incident.” He turned toward Alex and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t receive notice of your arrival, who—”
“This is Special Agent Alex Ragheb.” Nate motioned toward Alex. “She’s a biological weapons expert with a PhD in molecular biology.”
The local agent shook hands with Alex. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I suspect your background will be particularly useful on this.”
Alex shook hands with the rest of the team and asked, “So, what are we dealing with? The directive we received was really light on details.”
Nate motioned toward the black SUVs and said, “Let’s talk and move at the same time.”
Within minutes, they were racing toward Ash Springs.
Alex repeated her question. “So, what are we dealing with?”
&
nbsp; Cross shook his head. “It started when a local rancher reported that his entire herd of cattle died overnight. The county sheriff—”
“Wait,” Nate cut in. “You’re telling me we’re investigating dead cattle now?” Nate said. “Probably some local rancher taking out the competition.”
“That was my first thought too. But three people who went near the scene have already been hospitalized. The first was the local vet. The rancher called him in to check out the herd, and after going near the cattle, he got violently ill. An ambulance was called in, and the sheriff was notified. I knew it was something more than your run-of-the-mill water poisoning or some such.”
Alex leaned forward and asked, “So, what did you see when you got there?”
The local agent’s face held a haunted expression. “When we got to the scene, the ambulance was pulling away with two of the sheriff’s men. It seems as though one calf had survived the death of the rest of the herd, but was trapped under one of the dead animals. Some foolish officer went into the pasture to try to help the calf, and from what we’re told, as soon as he got near it, he yelled something about his eyes burning and he began going into convulsions. His partner ran in and dragged him out of the pasture, but then he, too, began showing signs of illness.”
Nate glanced at Alex as she chewed her lower lip in concentration.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“The calf ended up dying anyway. It freed itself and started stumbling toward the police, so someone put it down with a rifle shot. Anyway, after all that, you can understand why they brought us in.”
Nate frowned. “What’s the current status of the vet and the two officers?”
Cross shook his head. “The vet didn’t make it. Died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. One of the officers is in a coma. I’m not sure the status of the other.”
“Wow, this is ugly,” Nate muttered. “I’m assuming you’ve got the area cordoned off.”
“The cops did that before we arrived. Set up a hundred-foot buffer all around the pasture.”
“That’s good.” Nate turned to Alex. “Thoughts?”
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