Page 30 of Airborne
“Maybe.” Chad stared into his computer screen.
“Did you schedule an appointment with an attorney?”
“This afternoon at two.” Chad didn’t say he’d picked a name at random. Heather had retained the couple’s usual go-to attorney first.
His phone alerted him to a call, and he didn’t recognize the number. With a deep breath, he answered. Had the FBI exonerated him?
“Dr. Lawrence, this is KHWX TV. Your wife, FBI Special Agent Heather Lawrence, was on board flight3879 bound for Frankfurt, Germany. What can you tell us regarding the virus and the medical emergency?”
“I have the same information available to you.”
“Is it true you and your wife are separated?”
Chad’s anger meter rose, one more time. Two realizations had occurred to him in the early hours of the morning—one, he’d not give up until those stricken by the virus found relief, and two, he needed to get his life settled. He’d do everything within his power to keep Heather and others healthy.
“I have nothing to say. I suggest you contact the FBI or CDC for updates.” He ended the call and gripped his shaking hands. Alarm or anger? Both sensations were like a predator nipping at his heels.
“The FBI has a man in custody.” Andy scrolled through his phone. “He’s listed in serious condition. Unconscious. Someone on board the plane said he was on a suicide mission.”
“Unless a cure is available, the suspect will die before anyone can question him.”
“Doc C., I know you want access to the man’s stats. It will happen. First we need to clear your name so you can help with the research.”
The frustration of bitter truth. “Has the FBI added WMD to the federal assault charges?”
Andy peered into his phone. “Not yet.”
“If the FBI asks, don’t hold back on anything I’ve said or done. I must get my name out of the mud.”
“Sure. Can’t figure out their ridiculous reasoning unless they’re fishing.” Andy set his phone beside his computer. “This is so stupid. Why aren’t they running down real leads?”
“They’re doing their job, like us dealing with dangerous substances.” Chad forced a smile. “Appreciate you. I don’t say it enough. Something else. I accepted a position at the CDC in Atlanta. Supposed to start in three weeks, but now I question if the job offer will be withdrawn. Previously I arranged for a doctor to handle the day-to-day operations here. Should have told you sooner.”
“I’ll miss working with you. You’re innocent until proven guilty. Remember?”
“Depends on who’s asking. Makes me wish, along with a truckload of other things, I had a background in law enforcement. Then I’d have an idea of the next step.”
“With any luck, the FBI will find a lead and make progress today. That would toss out your worries. In any event, I’m on your side.”
“Thanks. We could use good news.” Tension hung over the lab, ready to strangle him. He needed the truth broadcast from every media outlet in the country.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
IN THE CAFETERIA,Heather studied Dr. Francisca, a slight woman with dark hair and expressive eyes. The east windows behind the woman showcased a fiery midmorning sun that did little to mask Heather’s turmoil.
“I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep.” Dr. Francisca spoke sensitivity into her words. “I understand how you need rest after hours on the plane and what has transpired. You’ve experienced the terror of a contagion.”
“Add concern for my baby and the inability to fix the virus problem to the list.”
“Makes sense since you’re a part of the FBI. How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Nausea assaulted me on the plane, but lack of sleep has always affected my stomach. I haven’t vomited, just a rolling sensation. So far I’ve had little morning sickness, and the first trimester is over.” Heather blinked the stinging sand from her eyes.
“Do you want something for the upset stomach?”
“I’d rather not take anything.”
“Understandable. Let me know if you change your mind. I’ve obtained the online records from your ob-gyn, and you have a healthy baby growing inside you. I want to run tests and compare them with your previous prenatal work. My testing will be separate from the CDC’s evaluations.”
