Upon contact, Dimethylmercury enters the bloodstream and slowly works its way to the brain. It generally takes four months to notice the first symptoms, but when it comes, it’s quick. Your speech slurs, you drop things, you stumble into walls. Three weeks later, you die.
But by combining the poison with the live HSV-1 virus, Miles created a toxic stew that will enter the skin of anyone who touches the barre for the next two hours. Because the Dancing Barre ladies are exercising, it’s only a matter of time before they’ll wipe the sweat from their eyes, noses, or mouths, at which point Miles’s concoction will enter their mucous membranes. The ladies will be symptom-free for ten days, but they’ll die four days later.
Two weeks from now, when doctors realize the instructor and every member of the 3:15 p.m. exercise class died on the same day, people all over the country will fear exercise classes.
It would be nice to think his concoction would have far-reaching effects, where one infected person would infect ten, and those ten would infect ten more, but it doesn’t work that way. The entire life cycle of the contagion is about four and a half hours, meaning, anyone not infected by 7:30 pm tonight will be safe. What’s worse, only about five percent of infected people will prove to be carriers of the disease.
That is not to say Miles hasn’t made an impact.
Take Joy Adams, for example. Joy reserved the last spot for the 3:15 p.m. exercise class at Dancing Barre. After class, she’ll catch a plane to visit her sister in Roanoke, Virginia. She’ll hold her boarding pass in her contaminated hands and pass it to the gate attendant, who’ll be dead fourteen days later. On the plane, Joy will touch the arm rests, the tray table, the overhead compartment latch, her water bottle, her drink glass and napkin, the in-flight magazine, and any number of other items. Until about 7:30 p.m. some or all of those items will be infected, and the chances are high at least another dozen people will come into contact with them.
When Joy disembarks her plane, she’ll embrace her sister and brother-in-law and their two kids, and their dog. The dog will be fine, but the family won’t. That night, they’ll take her out to dinner at Chez Villesa, where she’ll enter the restroom at 7:23 p.m. After peeing, she’ll use the soap dispenser, at which point the virus will have approximately seven minutes to live.
What are the odds the very next woman who touches the soap dispenser will be that one-in-twenty person who can spread the virus during the final seven minutes?
31
Donovan Creed.
TWO HOURS OUT of Vegas, my cell phone vibrates.
“What’s happened?”
Callie says, “Maybe just left the room.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. How did she look?”
“Cool as a cucumber.”
“Good. You want to try to get in?”
“Yes. If I hurry, he’ll probably think Maybe left something behind.”
“Let me know when you’re in.”
“Will do.”
We hang up. Five minutes later, Callie calls.
“What’s up?”
“No answer.”
“You knocked loudly?”
“Yes. And called the room. You think she killed him?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I think he saw you.”
“I don’t think so,” Callie says.
“Perhaps Maybe came back, saw you knocking, and called him.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Keep an eye on the door till I get there. If he starts to come out, run over, push him back inside, and give me a call.”
“I could act like I lost my key, get the maintenance guy to let me in.”
“I don’t like it. Too many problems. The door might be latched. The maintenance guy might see something. Sam might scream for help.”
“Fine. I’ll sit tight.”
“See you soon.”
“By soon, you mean, what? Ten minutes?”
“Ninety.”
“Shit.”
“Maybe he’ll come out soon.”
“Hard to come out if he’s dead,” she says.
“He’s not dead. Trust me.”
“But he will be soon after you arrive?”
“Not too soon.”
“Goody,” she says.
32
Lou Kelly.
LOU AND SHERRY arrive at Chez Villesa, in downtown Roanoke, at 7:20 p.m., and find the restaurant completely packed. More than a dozen couples are waiting for tables. Lou glances at the bar and sees it’s even more crowded than the restaurant. He knows the manager, and tries to bribe him, but what can be done when there are no tables at all?
“How long’s the wait?” he asks.
“We’re running an hour wait right now.” He notices the Franklin in Lou’s hand and says, “I can maybe find you something in thirty minutes.”
Lou turns to Sherry. “You want to wait or try somewhere else?”
She thinks a moment.
“Let’s find something quieter, and more romantic.”
Lou smiles. “I agree.”
They exit the restaurant and start heading to Lou’s car.
Suddenly Sherry stops and says, “Maybe I should use the restroom before we go.”
“You sure?”
She says, “I can probably hold it a little longer.”
Lou shrugs. “Better safe than sorry,” he says.
She kisses his cheek, says, “I’ll be right back.”
As Sherry opens the door to the ladies’ room, a young, fit woman walks out. Sherry pees, then pushes the top of the soap dispenser several times and washes her hands. Then she cups her right hand under the faucet, collects some water, puts it in her mouth, and swirls it around, to freshen her breath. Then she spits it into the sink, checks her hair, and exits the restroom.
33
DINNER AT ROMANZA was more romantic than Lou and Sherry could have imagined, and the hotel sex that followed rekindled something in Lou that had been dormant for years. After making love for a surprising second time, Sherry gets up and pads to the bathroom.
Lou decides it’s now or never.
He rolls to the side of the bed and sits up with his feet touching the floor. He looks at the bathroom door. For years he’s wanted the head job at Sensory. It’s as if his entire career was a prelude to this crowning achievement.
All he has to do is open the door, come up behind her, and snap her neck.
He hears her running the water, washing her hands. Living alone all these years, Lou never hears anyone running the water in the bathroom of his apartment.
It suddenly dawns on him that everything he wants is behind that door.
Let Creed or someone else run Sensory. Lou’s wealthy enough. Maybe he’ll retire and settle down with Sherry. Surely Creed will allow it, especially after Lou explains how the President reneged on the deal to exchange her for Rachel.
The bathroom door opens, and Sherry comes out, wearing nothing but a smile.
“You know what I think?” she says.
“Tell me.”
“I think I’m falling in love with you!”
Lou beams.
Sherry tumbles into his arms. They fall back onto the bed, where they remain for hours, cuddling, kissing, and pronouncing their love, totally convinced they’ll be happy the rest of their lives, completely unaware they’ll be dead in two weeks.
Mercury poison’s a bitch.
34
Donovan Creed.
AFTER WHAT SEEMS like weeks on the jet, we finally land in Vegas. The pilots rush to get our luggage into the waiting limo, and Miranda and I order the driver to take the short route to the Vega Rouge.
As we’re waiting in line to check in, Callie’s on my cell phone saying, “If Sam’s in room 228, he’s dead. There’s no sound inside, and he hasn’t responded to my phone calls or knocking.”