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As Perkins pulled into traffic, Dani checked her phone to find a message from Gemma. “Don’t forget your sister this afternoon, bridal shop.” There was no “Love, Gem” after, so chances were she was still upset.
Dani hated it when they had an argument right before it was time for her to leave for work. It hung over them all day, either getting bigger or getting smaller, she never knew which until she walked into the apartment that evening. Either way, she’d fix it tonight. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Dani didn’t mean to be “dismissive.” Her mind had already been on work when she had failed to give Gemma the kind of attention she was after. “You always do this!” she’d said. “You trivialize things that are important to me. Whether they’re important to you or not, you could at least pretend they are.” In her defense, Dani had said, “Gem, I’ve got a lot on my mind. It’s this thing with the FBI. It’s really important.” “Exactly!” she said. “Everything you’re doing is important and everything I’m doing isn’t. That was my point.” So Gemma had left the house without a good-bye kiss, indicating by the stiffness of her back that she didn’t want to be touched.
The truth was that Dani had forgotten what a big day this was for Gemma, and she felt bad about it. Gemma was meeting with a potential new client, a big client, big enough that getting the contract could blast her business up to the next level. So, yes, it was a big deal, and Dani had not been supportive enough, for which she was sorry.
Maybe Dani should bring home a gift tonight as a peace offering. She replied to Gemma’s message, then put her phone away and observed the streets. Everything looked peaceful until they turned onto Balboa. The only vehicle in sight was a tan Toyota Camry in the lane ahead of them, creeping slowly along. The left blinker was on, but the car showed no indication of turning. It then veered over the center line, swung sharply back, then went even more slowly.
“Let’s pull him over,” Dani said.
She turned on the lights, and they followed the car close on the rear bumper. She could see there was an elderly man at the wheel. No passenger.
“He doesn’t see us,” Perkins said.
She squawked the siren briefly and saw the man look into his rearview mirror. He then pulled over to the curb and they parked behind him.
As soon as she started talking to him, Dani could tell something was wrong. “Sir, can I see your license?” she asked him.
He looked confused and worried.
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Paul Cavanaugh,” he answered.
“Are you feeling all right?” she asked. “Sir, are you on some kind of medication?”
“I took my blood pressure pill,” he said, his voice shaky. “Did I do something wrong, Officer?”
“Do you feel light-headed, sir? Dizzy?”
He nodded.
“Okay. Sit there and relax. I’m going to call a paramedic.”
She and Perkins waited with Mr. Cavanaugh until the ambulance arrived. He remained conscious but disoriented. The EMTs said his blood pressure was low and they suspected a beta blocker overdose.
“They’re going to take you to the hospital, Mr. Cavanaugh,” Dani said, patting his arm to keep him focused. “You’ll be fine. Can we let somebody know where you are?”
“My daughter,” he said. “My daughter Angela. The number’s in my phone.”
Dani looked up the number and wrote it down. After the EMTs took Cavanaugh away, she called his daughter to let her know what had happened and where to pick up the car.
“It’s good we got him off the road,” Perkins said.
Dani murmured her agreement.
* * *
Gemma glanced at her phone to read Dani’s reply. “Thanks for the reminder about the bridal shop. Ugh. Good luck with your new client. Not that you need luck for that. You’ll wow them! Love you.”
The message bore no hint of their morning tiff. But that was typical Dani. Whenever they had an argument, it blew over her like a summer shower and left a clean blue sky and a rainbow behind. Gemma smiled to herself. It wouldn’t surprise her if Dani arrived home this evening with a gift for her. But Gemma should be the one offering the apology. Dani had done nothing wrong. It was just the stress, the situation with her mother and her job. There was a lot going on and she had been nervous about today. She’d also resented it that Dani had forgotten about her interview, but Dani had a lot on her mind too. It wasn’t surprising that she needed a reminder.
She rang her assistant, Shelley, who came into the office a moment later, her pale legs descending from a short, ruffled skirt, her tight-knit top revealing small breasts and the well-defined curve of her tummy. Even the indentation of her belly button was visible through the material. Basically, she seemed to be going for a ballerina look. Shelley’s choice in clothing was a mystery to Gemma. Maybe I’m getting old, she thought, quickly calculating that she was only five years older than her ballerina.
Behind her thick-rimmed eyeglasses, Shelley’s perceptive gaze locked onto Gemma, ready to serve. She was an eager and efficient assistant and, despite her outward appearance of frivolity, Gemma liked her.
“Shelley, I’ve got to leave for my appointment in San Raphael. Can you call the printer and make sure the meal plans for November are going out today?”
“Sure.”
“And verify that they changed the side vegetable for the lemongrass chicken from carrots to green beans. I’m still trying to bump the sugar content down a little on that one.”
Shelley made a note on her pad, assuring Gemma that the task would be done. “Anything else?”
“No, that’ll do until I get back.” Gemma took her purse from the drawer of her desk.
“By the way,” Shelley said, “you asked me to remind you about the retirement party for Lois on Wednesday?”
Gemma looked up. “Oh, thanks. I’d completely forgotten.” Lois was Gemma’s old coworker from her days at the FDA. Her old cubicle mate, actually. They’d remained friends, though they did not see one another often with no workplace to bring them together. “Keep my schedule free for that, will you? I guess I should get her a gift.”
“I can do that,” Shelley offered. “Books, movies, some kind of collectible?”
Gemma racked her brain before saying, “Music. Old school.”
“A gift card for digital music.”
“Perfect.” Gemma glanced into the wall mirror to check her hair and makeup and adjust her scarf. Looking good, she thought. She turned back to Shelley. “You know, Lois used to drive me nuts. She listened to her iPod all day long and hummed along with the music, very quietly so I couldn’t quite make out the tune. I’d get caught up in the challenge of figuring out the song, straining to catch a familiar melody. The constant humming was like water torture. There were times I fantasized strangling her. But, you know what? I sort of miss her. Weird, isn’t it? One thing I don’t miss, though, is the work I used to do there. I know it was important, but it was so tedious. Spreadsheets all day long. If I never see another spreadsheet in my lifetime, I’ll be a happy woman.”
Shelley wrinkled up her nose.
“I can’t believe Lois spent her entire career doing that, but the work seemed to suit her somehow.” Gemma shoved her phone into her purse.
“By the way,” Shelley asked, “how’s your mother? I know you got a call about her Friday.”
Gemma sighed deeply. “Yes. She yanked a handful of hair out of an aide’s head when he tried to take her for her shower.” Gemma could tell Shelley wanted to laugh at that, but she managed to look concerned instead.
“At least she’s got spunk,” Shelley remarked.
“Unfortunately, spunk is not considered an asset among the institutionalized. I just hope they don’t kick her out.”
Shelley’s expression was sympathetic. “You’d think they’d cut you some slack for improving their food so much. I mean, that’s got to reflect well on them, right?”
“I think they are cutting me some slack. Actually, things are going much better now with Mom since she moved into Palm Terrace. I think they might have finally gotten her meds figured out.” Gemma sighed. “Anyway, I hope so.”
“Maybe it’s because of better nutrition,” Shelley suggested with a grin.
Of course Shelley could do nothing about Gemma’s problems with her mother’s care, but her instinctive need to help drove her to the coatrack, where she removed Gemma’s fawn-colored jacket and held it up for her to slip into. Gemma pulled it on over her shoulders and buttoned one button, then turned to face Shelley.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“Gorgeous. Confident. I’m sure you’ll come back with the contract.”
“Thanks.”
On her way out, Gemma paused to read her name on the suite door. “Gemma A. Mettler, Nutritional Consultant.” That just never got old! Just two years ago, she’d been a civil service functionary in a dead-end job for the FDA, graphing statistics, unchallenged and bored. This, her own business, had been a vague dream she had never thought would be realized. It was hard work, but so much more satisfying.
She waited for the elevator, mentally preparing for her meeting with her potential new client, North Bay Healthcare Services, the owner of half a dozen nursing and rehab hospitals in Marin and Sonoma counties. If she could land their food services contract…it made a shiver run up her spine to think of it. But after building her business for two years, she was ready for this. Reaching the ground floor, she slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder and strode purposefully out of the building, rehearsing her presentation in her mind.
Chapter Four
A call was coming in. Suspect in sight. Officer needs assistance.
“That’s Agent Bryan,” Dani said. “He must be after Darius.”
She turned on the lights and sirens and they changed course, heading for the location just a mile away. They took the streets as fast as they could without killing anybody.
What was Bryan doing out there on his own anyway? she wondered. And how had he found Darius?
Their tires skidded as they stopped in front of a run-down ten-story apartment building with outside metal fire escapes. They were the first to arrive.
“I’ll take the back,” Perkins said.
Dani pulled her weapon and dashed toward the front doorway where an old man stood holding the door open, looking mystified.
“Get out of here!” she yelled. “Get away from this building. Get somewhere safe.”
He moved aside and she entered, sweeping the entrance quickly. She spoke into her radio. “Bryan, what’s your twenty?”
He immediately answered, sounding breathless. “He’s heading toward the roof. I’m right behind him.”
She located the stairwell and started up, taking two steps at a time. The landing of each floor was marked with a blazing red number—2…3…4…5. She could hear clattering above, footsteps, then the slamming of a metal door echoing down the stairwell. Had they reached the roof? She heard a siren die outside. Good! Another unit was here. Even more sirens sounded nearby.
She bounded up the remaining stairs. When she reached the ninth floor, a gunshot reverberated through the stairwell. It was followed closely by a second shot. She nearly flew up the last flight and burst out onto the flat roof of the building, leading with her weapon. Wind blew past and whistled through the open door behind her. Scanning the scene, she saw Bryan lying on his back nearby and another man running away from her toward the far end of the roof. Darius! Thin and lanky, he wore a gray hoodie and brown pants, and that’s about all she could get from the back.
“Stop! Police!” she called, but his stride did not change.
Dani heard Bryan moan, then the moan turned into a frightening gurgle, and she feared the worst. She took a shot at the fleeing suspect as he dodged behind the HVAC units at the far end of the roof. Her bullet ricocheted off the metal.
She made her way warily toward the spot, listening for any clue to pinpoint the location of the suspect. She heard muffled footsteps far away in the stairwell below. But she heard nothing on the roof. She edged around the equipment, leading with her weapon. Nobody was behind it. It seemed Darius was no longer here. She looked over the edge at the fire escape ladders and platforms. There were three black and whites parked below and several cops surrounding the base of the building. If Darius was on his way down, somebody would intercept him. But metal fire escapes were noisy and she heard nothing between herself and the officers below.
Retreating quickly back to Bryan’s position, she radioed in her location and reported a “ten double-zero,” officer down.
“Ten-four on the double-zero,” said the dispatcher.
Dani knelt beside Bryan. He wasn’t wearing a vest and had been hit in the chest. He lay unmoving, his eyes closed, blood pooling beside him. A trickle of blood ran from the side of his mouth, ending in the thick hair of a sideburn. His weapon lay a foot from his body. Without even touching it, she could smell that it had been fired. One of the two shots she’d heard. The other one, fired by the suspect, was in his chest. His left arm was nearest to her. She lifted it to feel for a pulse, noting the object strapped to his wrist. It wasn’t like any fitness monitor she’d seen before. The display showed only two small dots, one blue, one green, on a faint grid. Feeling no signs of life, she released his hand. His right arm was stretched straight out to the side, and next to his open hand was a small metal cylinder. It was silver with three translucent blue inlays equally spaced around its outer casing. The blue sections were glowing.
Dani picked it up to examine it just as Perkins burst onto the roof. She heard her name—“Barsetti”—low and rumbling, as if it were hollered into a deep canyon. That was followed by a wild ringing in her ears. Perkins disappeared in a flash of light. Everything disappeared—Bryan’s body, the building, the sky. Dani felt like she was caught in a tornado, spinning wildly, surrounded by swirls of color. She couldn’t distinguish up or down. Her arms and legs, flailing in all directions, contacted nothing. And then everything went dark.
* * *
On her way back to the office, Gemma realized how hungry she was. She’d been so nervous this morning she hadn’t eaten much, but now, with the interview behind her, her appetite had returned with a vengeance. She stopped into the restaurant next door to her building for a salad, feeling euphoric. She hadn’t gotten the contract yet, but the interview had gone so well, the final decision would be a mere formality, she was sure of it. She couldn’t wait to tell Dani. She couldn’t wait to tell Shelley. But she wanted to tell them in person.
When the waitress delivered her salad, a crisp bowl of lettuces, fresh vegetables and crunchy sunflower seeds, she sat with her fork poised over it, smiling to herself. There it was, right there on her plate, her entire pitch. Fresh fruits and vegetables. You can improve the morale and quality of life of long-term patients by giving them better nutrition and a sense of control over at least one aspect of their lives—what they put in their mouths. Put a salad bar in the dining room for those who are ambulatory. For those who aren’t, give them a printed menu with choices. For those who are beyond choosing for themselves, at least put a piece of fresh fruit on their tray and fresh, not frozen or canned, vegetables.
Gemma put a cucumber slice in her mouth. Of course, the NBHS managers immediately objected, citing the prohibitive cost. She waved her fork over her plate like a pointer, remembering the moment. But, you see, she had told them, I’ve designed a system that costs no more than feeding them brown slop and canned peas…No, she hadn’t said that. But she had said something along those lines, that she could put fresh food into their facilities without raising costs. That she had done it already. That’s when she described where and how she had done it and how it could be done on a larger scale. If they were skeptical, after all she had shown them, she could demonstrate at one or two of their facilities as a trial, before they adopted the program across the board.
She smiled while she ate. How could they say no? If it wasn’t going to cost more and it was better for the patients, how could they? After all, nobody really wants to punish sick, helpless people with brown slop and canned peas. Even if the administrators are secretly apathetic, they have to at least pretend they care.
She finished her salad and glanced at her watch. It was one thirty. She had to get back to the office. She walked outside into a brilliant, sunny day, then went into her own building and caught the elevator up, excited with the prospect of spilling her joy all over Shelley. Before the elevator reached her floor, it seemed to come to an abrupt stop. Her stomach lurched violently and she had the feeling that the elevator car was free-falling. She reached toward the wall to steady herself, but her fingers contacted nothing but air. She panicked, grabbing at the nothingness and feeling dizzy, but the sensation lasted only a split second before she realized she was sitting solidly in her chair at her desk.
She placed both hands flat on the desktop, wondering what had just happened. Whatever it was, it was over. She felt fine. Her computer displayed the complicated spreadsheet she’d been working on for three days. She was in the process of generating a line graph to chart arsenic levels in fruit juices. Lois, her cube mate, leaned back in her desk chair, her earbuds in, humming some sixties pop tune as usual.
Gemma tried to ignore her and concentrate on her work. The time display at the bottom of the screen taunted her. It was only one forty in the afternoon. She had nearly three and a half hours left before being released from this torment.
Chapter Five
The first thing Dani heard was a little bell ringing, a faint ding, ding, ding. She lay with her eyes closed, her head pounding, her stomach on the verge of rejecting lunch. It took her a moment to force her eyes open and take in her surroundings. She was lying on a padded table in a room with eggshell-colored walls and sterile-looking furniture—a table, counters, a couple of chairs, all of them taupe. There was light in the room, but no windows and no visible lamps or light fixtures. The light seemed to radiate from the entire ceiling.
