Page 34 of Airborne
“I do, and it’s okay. We’re separated.” She drew in a breath. “I question why he hasn’t passed on his marital status.”
Jordan frowned. “I asked him if you planned a transfer to the Atlanta FBI office, and he didn’t respond. I hate to hear you’re not together, but I suspected problems when the FBI found him at a different address from yours.”
“I’m not thrilled about it either.” Heather refused to offer her sentiments. She’d either thrown a wrench into Chad’s plans for a career in the CDC or he gambled on her not surviving the virus. “He has motive to plan my death.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“He said I was in his way. He couldn’t move ahead in his career with a wife.” She pressed her lips together hard enough to bruise them.
“Why does he believe you’re in his way?” Jordan said.
“I have no idea.”
“You can unload, Heather. Whatever you tell me stays right here.”
She stiffened to regain her composure. “So... the relationship headed downhill, and I tried to fix it. It made matters worse.”
Her previous doubts hung over her, dark and menacing. What were the odds that she’d be on an aircraft attacked by a mysterious killer and the virus’s description fit his specialty?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LATE AFTERNOON,Heather viewed the news from the cafeteria TV. Angry crowds protested the restrictions on the outbound flights from Houston and Chicago airports. Per the president, the FBI, Homeland Security, local law enforcement, and the CDC were working together to end the virus panic and bring answers to the American people. Quarantined passengers and crew had arrived safely on an island off the coast of New York until further threat of contagion had passed.
The media placed the country’s reaction in diverse camps—terror, outrage, and blaming the current administration for causing business and travel delays. Watchdog journalism shared interviews from those inside the quarantine, often using photos and videos taken on the plane to raise their ratings.
Heather blew out her irritation. She couldn’t fault those who demanded explanations. She had the same concerns and questions. But the ones who protested the inability to book travel hadn’t experienced people in misery and dying a horrible death, or they’d run for the safety of their homes and lock the doors.
She logged into the FBI security site for the latest on the investigation. Agents worked the case with no solution to stop the virus or find the culprit who’d spread it. Task forces of trained personnel labored around the clock. If she were there, she’d be in the thick of it, too.
CDC workers had stripped Maria’s bed and disinfected the room, the empty bed a reminder of the death stalker. Tatum scrolled on her phone, and Catherine read her Bible. Jackie and Ada were watching a movie in the recreation area. Both women had bonded in the ordeal.
Heather needed to get out of the room for a while. The cafeteria had a coffee bar, and she needed a jolt of caffeine. She grabbed her shoulder bag and slipped her phone inside. In the cafeteria, the aroma of coffee brought back memories of sharing coffee with Chad.... Once upon a time, things were good between them.
A few others sat on metal benches that lined the cafeteria. She saw a mix of grief, panic, and frustration. A preteen girl screamed for her mama, who was at Jamaica Hospital. A man held her and she sobbed. No doubt bad news. A CDC worker escorted them toward the wing of offices.
God, when will this end?
Thomas shoved his hands into jean pockets and walked her way. “Nothing is more unfair than a child attacked by tragedy.”
“I agree.”
“Children are the seeds of a beautiful future. They should be nourished and loved.”
“That’s beautiful. I’ll remember it,” she said.
“Are you busy?”
“I needed to get out of my room.”
“I understand. Do you mind if I get a cup of coffee, a couple of cookies, and join you? If you prefer being alone, I get it.”
Talking would pass the time. “Sure. I smell chocolate chip, and I could use a chocolate anything.”
He returned with a stack of her favorite cookies piled onto a paper plate and wrapped his legs over the bench opposite her. “They look like they’re still warm. Good of them to offer creature comforts.”
Heather gave him a thumbs-up. “The coffee’s not bad.” Thomas wasn’t a handsome man but pleasing, as her grandmother would say. Worry lines fanned from his eyes, like the rest of them. “How are you doing?”
“Much better than many others. I’ve experienced blood drawn. Urine samples. Tongue depressors. Q-tips pushed up my nose. A few hours of sleep. Daytime TV. A shower improved my attitude. Breakfast and lunch reminded me of my high school cafeteria, carbs and mushy vegetables. Pushing the mask up to eat has a trick to it.” He managed a faint smile. “How about you?”
