Danger Calls (9 page)

T
he inoculation of a new rat with the unusual cell strain from the remaining Danvers rat had been a bust. Within an hour of being infected, the rat had developed high fevers that could not be controlled. Convulsions had followed and barely three hours had gone by when the new subject died from uncontrolled hemorrhaging.

Confusing, given the apparent healing properties and seeming longevity the cell strain had bestowed on the earlier subjects. Taken directly, the strain was virulent and deadly, which might prove useful in other applications.

But not now.

The current interest was in discovering how it could heal. Healing being the most imperative demand at this moment. With the failure of every other avenue of vaccination, and the final rat literally on its last legs, there were no choices left.

Unfortunately, if Melissa had other journals, she was guarding them closely. Surveillance had shown her doing nothing other than routine hospital work.

It was time for a personal visit to see what she was up to.

 

The news Diana had for Melissa the next day was a mixed bag.

First, the anomaly in Sloan's history was due to a stint he had done with the National Security Agency. His records were sealed and open only to those with the highest of security credentials, leaving Diana with no way of obtaining additional information for the moment.

Second, Diana's detective friend, Peter Daly, had been able to pry from the Burglary Division the fact that they had a possible suspect in the hospital break-in. An APB had been sent out for the man and the Burglary Division would let Daly know more about him as soon as they had collared the suspect.

Last, and most important as far as Melissa was concerned, Diana had nosed around Sara's neighborhood and confirmed Sara's story about the
santero
and her mother. While the
santero
's request for human blood was a little odd,
Santeria
was a recognized religion. Unless he violated a law, there was little they could do about him.

“So you think we can rule Sara out?” Melissa asked, gripping the phone tightly while she waited for an answer.

“There's nothing to connect Sara to this possible burglary suspect, but I would still be cautious around her.”

Melissa held her breath for a moment before asking her final question. “How do we get more info on Edward? If his record is sealed—”

“Let's discuss that tonight.” There was a pause and Melissa heard someone in the background, as if they had just walked into Diana's office. A second later Diana came back on the line. “I have to run. I should be at Ryder's by nine. Is that good for you?”

Melissa confirmed that it was. She'd just hung up the phone when a knock came at the door.

“Come in.”

Dr. Edward Sloan stepped in, wearing a navy blue Brooks Brothers suit, starchy white shirt, and a blue-and-red striped tie. Raising one bushy gray eyebrow, he said, “I see things are back to normal after the burglary. I hope I'm not interrupting anything right now.”

Melissa shrugged, uncertain of the reason for Edward's visit. “You were a great comfort that night, Edward. And it's always good to see you,” she said even though the last thing she wanted was his company until she knew more.

Edward's blue eyes were alert and assessing as he sat in one of her guest chairs. “You seem worried. Was anything important taken?”

Suddenly facing the possibility that Edward had something to do not only with the missing journal, but with her parents' deaths sent a shiver of fear through Melissa. She fought down panic and forced a smile. “Turns out the only things missing were my scrip pad and some spare change for the soda machine.”

“Are you sure?” His concern seemed real enough. For a moment, Melissa took comfort in it, recalling how his presence had been a balm since the crash that had killed her parents. And then she remembered that Edward was a suspect in their deaths.

“Luckily, nothing else.” She grabbed a pile of papers and shuffled them, trying not to tip him off to the fact that she was unsure about him.

Edward rubbed his hands together, seemingly reassured. “Well, that's wonderful then. In the meantime, you know where to reach me.”

Edward had assumed Frederick Danvers's position as chief of hematology at the hospital. In that capacity, Edward had made a point of trying to help his old colleague's daughter. In fact, he had become a mentor of sorts, guiding her through the maze of hospital politics and acting as a sounding board on some of her more complicated cases. But with doubt about Edward looming large in her mind, there was nothing her father's old friend could provide at the moment. “I know where to reach you. I just need to do a few more things so I can get some rest before being on call again.”

He nodded as he rose from the chair. His movements were stiff and almost a little tenuous. “Am I glad these old bones don't have to worry about that anymore.” As he turned and walked toward the door, he tossed over his shoulder, “Let me know if you need anything.”

Wanting to make it seem as if nothing was out of the ordinary between them, she said, “Maybe later this afternoon you can take a look at one of my cases. I could use your help with it.”

Edward favored her with a small smile. Melissa told herself it was her imagination that made it seem like a snake's sibilant smirk. “I'll be back later, then.”

 

It was unusual for Melissa to leave the hospital for her break, but occasionally she and Sara grabbed a quick lunch together at a nearby restaurant. Sara had actually surprised her today by suggesting they go out for a bite. The outing would give Melissa time to talk with Sara away from prying eyes.

At lunch they left the hospital together and walked a few blocks to a small Mexican restaurant they both loved. After the waiter left their nachos and promised to return with their meals, Melissa mustered the courage to begin the conversation.

“How's your mom?”

“The same,” Sara replied in a flat tone.

“The other day you mentioned—”

“The
santero
?” Sara shrugged and grabbed a tortilla chip loaded with cheese from the platter. “I dropped off the blood and he promised me he'd see
Mami
in a few days.”

“Did you pay him anything?” If Sara had, maybe Diana's friend could investigate the man for possible fraud charges.

“He doesn't ask for any money. If you're happy with what he does, you're free to leave what you can. Money. Food. Alcohol.”

Chewing on a chip thoughtfully, Melissa wondered just what kind of con the
santero
was running. Or maybe she was being cynical. Maybe he really had some kind of healing ability. Modern science occasionally failed where other kinds of alternative methods succeeded.

Her father would have tried anything to help her mother. He would have moved the earth and the sky. Although nothing in the journals suggested it, maybe her father had resorted to means as drastic as Sara's
santero
.

“You okay?” Sara laid her hand over Melissa's as if sensing Melissa's upset.

“You said my father was doing experiments. How did you know that?”

“I ran into him in the hallway once. I had a rack filled with blood samples ready to go to the lab.”

“Ran into—”

“As in literally ran into.” Sara made two fists with her hands and banged them together to emphasize what had happened. “My rack hit the floor along with the one your father had in his hands. Luckily none of the tubes broke, but he made a big fuss about having his samples. Said it was something he was working on and couldn't be mixed in with the patients' samples.”

A sick knot formed in Melissa's stomach. There was a very short list for what might have been in those test tubes.

“Are you sure you're okay ' cause you are looking exceptionally pale.”

Melissa snapped out of it, not wanting to alarm Sara. “I know what it's like to be desperate to make someone better.”

“Your
mami
was sick for a long time,
verdad?
”

Melissa was about to answer when the waiter moved the almost-full plate of nachos aside and deposited their orders. The tone of the conversation had stolen her appetite, but at the enticing smells coming from the plate of quesadillas in front of her, hunger returned with a vengeance.

She picked up her fork and motioned to Sara's plate. “Eat. My mother had been sick since she was a child. She met my father when she went to the hospital for treatments. Some said it was a miracle she was alive as long as she was.”

“Or that she had you. The doctors must have warned her against it,” Sara interjected around her mouthful of taco.

Melissa had never considered it before, but given the severity of her mother's anemia, having a child would have been an issue. Most people would have guessed her mother had gone to the extra effort because she really wanted children, but Melissa couldn't accept that. Her mother had never had much interest in her child. And her father's attentions had always been elsewhere. Melissa had been a very distant third, or possibly fourth, considering how much time her father had given to his patients and students.

“Earth to Melissa. Come in, Melissa,” Sara teased.

Melissa shook her head in self-chastisement. “It was a risk, although I never thought about it. We weren't close.”

“
Mami
and me…” A wistful tone crept into Sara's voice. “It's like having a big sister. She always has time for me. Makes me laugh. Keeps me on the straight and narrow.”

“That must be great. I can understand why you're willing to try anything, only…Do you think my father's experiments had anything to do with my mother?”

“Definitely. It wasn't for the hospital or his classes.”

“No, not his classes.” Melissa had helped her father with those labs, which all consisted of preprepared histological samples for review.

“You know, Sloan might be able to help you out,” Sara said. “He and your father were tight. If there's something to know, he's the one.”

Although Edward and her father had been friends, Melissa hadn't gotten the sense that they'd shared much in the months before her parents' deaths. On the contrary, at the hospital gala just a month before the crash, she'd detected almost a chill between the two men, but had written it off as due to the competitive battling that sometimes went on in hospital politics.

Since her parents' deaths, Edward had been the soul of propriety and helpfulness. “I'll see if he knows anything,” she said, although with the information Diana had given her earlier that day, she wasn't sure how she'd approach her father's old friend.

 

It was a dumb move to visit her at the hospital, Sebastian thought. It would accomplish nothing good. But after scanning what Melissa had said was her father's last journal and tackling some of the earlier ones, he'd had enough of working and not enough of seeing Melissa.

On the short walk from Ryder's apartment, he debated the wisdom of what he was about to do. Reminded himself that the most logical thing would be to go home. His work was almost done, and after that there would be nothing else to keep him close to Melissa.

Except that since he'd left her last night, Melissa was the only thing he'd been able to think about. The realist in him said it was because of the almost painful physical condition their encounter had left him in. The romantic in him fancied the thought that they could be happy together.

To which the realist replied that all he could do was hurt her because he could never be the kind of man she needed. Melissa was a complicated woman with even more complicated needs. Needs beyond his capabilities.

To which the rebel in him said—Fuck you. Sebastian told himself the voice of the realist was just his father talking, failing to see what Sebastian was truly capable of.

Right now, with all the arguments in his head Sebastian was certain of only one thing—if he could make Melissa happy for just one moment, that was enough. Armed with that knowledge, he pulled his black leather duster tighter around him and continued his walk to the hospital.

He paused at the door for security to check him out and then strode to the hospital directory. There was a moment of pride at seeing her name posted at this prestigious hospital, where only the cream of the crop practiced.

At the nurses' station where he stopped to ask the way to Melissa's office, an attractive Latina raised her head from the chart, gave him a smile. “May I help you?”

Sebastian peered at her name tag. Sara Martinez.
The
Sara Martinez, he realized, recalling her name. “I'm looking for Dr. Danvers.”

“Are you a friend?” she asked.

Was he? “Maybe more,” he answered with a grin.