A Sickening Storm, page 22
Each of their dogs was in the other owner’s lap. Freedom was with Missy and Comfort with Dora. Both dogs’ eyes were slowly closing as the women gently stroked their heads. A half-full bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon stood on the floor between them. Another bottle—empty—was a few feet away.
Dora’s phone rang. She glanced at it, then put it on speaker. She mouthed “C3” to Missy. “Hey,” she said into the phone.
“You need to come down here ASAP,” the young man said.
“What? Where?”
“The hospital. Sarah’s here. There’s a problem with the baby, and she wants to see you.” The call ended.
Dora looked at Missy. “Come on!”
Missy shook her head. “We can’t drive.”
“Are you kidding?” Dora threw her coat on.
“No,” Missy insisted. “You’re not driving and neither am I. Use the app.”
Within fifteen minutes they were able to book a ride to the hospital with a ride-sharing app. When they arrived, they found C3 in the lobby with his father and Christine.
As they approached, Charlie rushed to Dora and enveloped her in a hug. “Olivia’s going to be okay. My granddaughter’s going to be okay!”
C3 smiled. “Sarah, too.”
Missy took a deep breath. “Oh, thank God.”
“You need to go in,” C3 said to Dora. “While the baby was in danger, she kept saying she needed to see you.”
“Me?” Dora was confused. “But why?”
“She said you’re the bravest woman she knows.”
• • •
Sarah was sitting up in the bed that was closer to the door. A curtain was drawn down the center of the room, blocking the other side from view. C3 led Dora and Missy to Sarah’s bedside, then slipped from the room. His father and Christine had remained in the lobby.
Sarah gave a weak smile. “I’m so glad you came. I kept thinking of you while this was happening, while I wasn’t sure whether Olivia—” She drew a quick gasp, stifling a sob. “But she’s okay.” She smiled. “False alarm.”
“We’re so glad,” said Dora.
“So they caught the guy. C was telling me—you caught the guy.”
Dora shrugged. “Team effort.” She nodded toward Missy. “She figured it out.”
“Traxle is going to be okay, we’re told,” Missy explained. “Apparently she was brought to the hospital in time.”
“And we had a chance to talk to Dr. Babu at the police station,” Dora continued. “He told us that some years ago, Spontana, who even now Babu says is brilliant if narcissistic, came up with an idea for a process for quickly pinpointing certain pathogens. Something to do with dyes and radiation. Ramesh hired him about that time and enabled him to finalize his research using Ramesh’s facility. The credit for the process was shared, but since it was Ramesh’s lab, he got primary credit, and the process was named for him. Which apparently drove Spontana over the edge. In a weird twist, after the fact, Babu is asking that the process be renamed for Spontana, though obviously he’s heading for a long stay in prison.”
“Wow,” said Sarah. “Is it true you infected Spontana with a flesh-eating bacteria?”
Dora shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
“So how did—” Sarah began.
“Clay stole the pathogens from the BSL-4 training lab,” Missy explained, “and possibly collected some from the wild. He then enhanced Babu’s lab until it was at a BSL-2+ level and served his needs.”
Sarah nodded, then asked, “How are the dogs?”
“They’re like a vaudeville act,” Missy reported. “Freedom’s terrified of Comfort, who’s like a tiny general. Except when we’re outside, when Freedom is out there aggressively protecting us all.”
Sarah smiled beatifically. “Like her owner.”
Dora laughed.
“But in the apartment—either of our apartments—Comfort runs around, barking, anytime he hears a noise outside. One of the neighbors comes home from a late night out, slams the car door, and Comfort will go tearing around the place barking like crazy.”
“What about you two?” Sarah asked. “Rumor has it you might be tying the knot.”
Missy looked surprised. “Rumor?”
Sarah shrugged. “A little bird.”
Missy turned to Dora. “Oh, really.” Then she looked at Sarah. “We’ll get back to you on that. ’K?”
“’K.”
“And you?” Dora said, wanting to change the subject. “Will you and C be getting married before Olivia’s born?”
“Who knows? I’m just trying to make sure he sticks around. Ooh, got something to show you.” Sarah reached for an iPad that was on her tray, tapped the screen a few times, and held it up for her guests to see. “Our new ad for ‘Real Women’!”
Dora looked embarrassed. Missy draped an arm around her shoulder. “You look wonderful. A true spokesmodel for women of every shape and size.”
“You know who did the artwork at Charlie’s agency? Vanessa!”
“She did a great job,” Missy breathed, then she gently elbowed Dora. “Hey, supermodel.”
Dora winced. “Shut the fuck up,” then touched the blanket covering Sarah’s thigh. “We’ll let you get some rest now.” Sarah nodded.
C3 had come into the room, gone around to the other side of the bed, and sat down in a chair there. He took Sarah’s hand, looking wrung out and relieved.
Dora and Missy went to the lobby, hugged Charlie and Christine, and walked to Dora’s car.
“Dor,” Missy said. “I think we need to wait.”
Dora glanced at her, but didn’t answer.
“To get married, I mean.”
“I know what you meant.”
Missy went on, “I think we need to give us time.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Dora didn’t look at her as she got into the car. Her phone rang. “Hello? Thank you. Yes, of course.” She listened for a long moment, then ended the call, put away her phone and buckled her seat belt. “That was Geller. He congratulates us, and has paychecks waiting—or, Thelma has them, actually.”
“Sounded like more than that.”
“He received a call from a man who claims his sister was murdered—murdered and mutilated. The man wants to hire us. Adam sent him an email with our fees and we’re a go, if we want it.”
“Has he called the police?”
“He has. But he wants to be able to stay on top of the investigation—hence his call to Adam. And, apparently, a similar murder was reported just two weeks earlier—another woman—also murdered and mutilated.”
“Jesus. Were these near here?”
“Both within a five-mile radius of Beach City.”
“Do they know why these women were targeted?”
Dora looked at Missy. “We’re going to find out.”
Look for Book 4 in David E. Feldman’s
Dora Ellison Mystery Series: A Biological Storm.
THE END
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-DF
David E. Feldman, A Sickening Storm
