“I thought there were fifteen cases?” Rudy made the question mild, looking around as if he expected three more patients to simply appear.
“The others are under three years old,” said Phil. “They’re in a sterile ward, intubated. They’ve all stopped breathing on their own. That’s part of why we think this must be something else that mimics galactosemia — it doesn’t move this quickly. Even in children with the condition, we’d expect to have several months between presentation of symptoms and a total system collapse.”
“Thank you,” said Rudy, and produced a pair of gloves from his pocket, moving forward into the room. Circe and Bunny followed, leaving Top standing next to the two doctors.
The team moved from patient to patient with ruthless efficiency, reading charts, checking pulses, doing everything short of drawing more blood. When they had reached the far side of the room, Rudy looked up and nodded, once.
“These families,” said Top. “What do they all have in common?”
Kathleen jumped. She couldn’t help herself. She’d been so wrapped up in watching the rest of them that she’d managed to virtually forget Top was there.
“They’ve all been living here in town for generations. They’re proud of their self-sufficiency. Don’t like asking for help.”
“Do they attend the same church? You mentioned that they don’t like asking for help. Do they visit a local food bank?” Sensing Kathleen’s reluctance, Top lowered his voice and said, “Help us help you. If there’s an environmental factor, we need to know how to find it. Even if you don’t want to trust us, we’re your best chance at finding a solution for these people.”
“They… don’t go to a food bank, no,” Kathleen said reluctantly. “But there’s a church group that distributes supplies. Things that they say would go to waste, so it’s really a charity to take them.”
“The hospital doesn’t accept any of their donations,” Phil added. “They mean well. They’re also a little fast and loose about the legality of the things they pass around, and we’ve never wanted to risk getting caught in a lawsuit.”
“Understandable,” said Top. “Tell me, does either of you have close contact with the families who receive those donations? Outside of the hospital, I mean?”
“Vince Taylor works at the coffee shop where I stop most mornings,” said Kathleen. “Nice kid. Smart. He’s going places. I know his family gets donations from the church.”
“All right. This may seem like an odd question, but have you seen him drinking bottled water recently?”
“Bottled water? Please. No one around here would waste money on—” Kathleen stopped. There had been that nasty business with the water filters downtown, hadn’t there? They’d stopped cleaning the water properly, and some people had gotten sick. Not bad sick, no, just some minor bacterial infections, but it had been enough to scare a few households into drinking bottled water, at least until the matter was resolved.
“Oh, God,” she said. “I saw Vince with a bottle of water last week. I didn’t even think about it.”
“Was it a brand you recognized? Had you ever seen that kind of water before?”
“I don’t think so, no. I wasn’t really paying attention.”
Top nodded grimly. “People generally don’t. It’s interesting. A man switches from Coke to Pepsi, people will notice. Switch brands of bottled water, and it’s just so much background noise.”
“Was the water poisoned? Was there some sort of federal recall?”
Top and Bunny exchanged a look. “Is Vince Taylor one of your patients?”
“No,” said Kathleen. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject. I noticed.”
“That’s fine, ma’am, but right now, I think we need to find Vince and see if he can tell us where he got that water. Preferably before there’s some sort of a public panic.” Top folded his arms. “Can you do that?”
Kathleen was suddenly, terribly reminded of how large these two men were. If they wanted to break her, they could.
But her people needed her. The people she’d grown up beside, the people who believed she could take care of them, they needed her. If these men were government goons sent to make this whole thing disappear, she could work with that. First, she needed to know what “this whole thing” actually was.
“Dr. Clines, please stay here with our guests,” she said, offering Phil a short, tight nod. She wanted him to know that she understood what she was doing. She wanted him to know that she’d be fine.
To her great relief, he nodded back and said, “I’ll notify you if anything here changes.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Gentlemen? Please follow me.”
Rudy glanced up as Top and Bunny filed out of the room. Then he went back to reviewing the chart he was holding, while Circe made notes.
This was bad. This was very bad.
The coffee shop where Vince worked was only a few blocks from the hospital — close enough that it wasn’t unusual to see doctors in their white coats and nurses in their scrubs passing their lunch breaks packed around the tiny tables, desperately trying to consume enough caffeine to stay standing for the rest of their shifts. The place kept hospital hours, staying open late into the night, and profiting accordingly.
The two men behind Kathleen drew considerably more glances than she did, some appreciative, others wary. She looked toward the counter.
Vince wasn’t there.
Kathleen frowned as she walked up to the register and waved for the attention of the woman on duty. “Sandy, when was the last time you saw Vince?” she asked.
“He called in sick Monday and Tuesday, and today, he just didn’t show.” Sandy frowned. “It’s not like him. Anyone else, they’d already be fired, but Vince… You know something I don’t?”
“We have a few of his relatives at the hospital. Looks like it might be food poisoning. He’s probably exhausted and trying to sleep it off, but I’ll go and check on him.” Kathleen forced herself to smile. “I’ll stop by on my way back.”
Sandy brightened, a look of pleased surprise on her face. “You’d do that?”
“It’s no trouble.” Kathleen kept smiling as she turned and walked out of the coffee shop, with Top and Bunny behind her.
The smile died as soon as she was outside.
“The Taylors live about a mile from here,” she said. “I’ll need to get my car.”
“No, you won’t, ma’am,” said Bunny. “We parked on the street.” He pointed to a black SUV that all but screamed government agents, and smirked. “Seemed like the right car for the job.”
“Of course it did,” said Kathleen.
She was now not just leaving with two strange men who might or might not be who they claimed: she was getting into a car with them. If her body was never found, well, that would just about serve her right. But if there was anything she could do to save the people who were filling her hospital, she had to do it. She had to try. That was what she had promised to do when she’d gone away to medical school, and that was a promise she intended to keep.
As if sensing her discomfort, Bunny smiled and said, “We’re pretty good drivers. We almost never get into Vin Diesel — style car chases. And when we do, we always win.”
“Encouraging,” said Kathleen, and followed them to the car.
It was a new model, kitted out with all the bells and whistles that people seemed to expect these days. The seats adjusted themselves automatically when Top started the engine, and the air-conditioning was better than anything Kathleen had experienced as a child. She watched out the window as Top followed her directions to the Taylor house, wondering what her hometown looked like to these strangers, these men who could afford new suits and fancy rental cars and last-minute plane fares.