The Target (8 page)

She pounded down the stairs, regretting the damn heels. She’d be lucky not to twist an ankle. On the first floor landing, she pushed out the door and ran into a fireman.

“Excuse me.” She stepped around him and bolted toward the lobby. The intruder wasn’t in the hall ahead of her, and she didn’t see him in the foyer a moment later either. Had he exited already? Through the glass front doors, she noticed employees milling around the grassy area while firefighters dragged a hose off their truck. No one who resembled the intruder was in sight.

Dallas sprinted down the opposite hall toward the break room and atrium. Behind her, the fireman called, “Hey, you need to get out!”

She turned into the atrium and caught sight of the thief scaling over the cement-patio wall outside.
Hell!
She could climb over the damn wall even in a skirt, but could she catch him? And how would that activity look to her boss and co-workers? She couldn’t risk blowing her cover.

A firm hand grabbed her shoulder. “Miss, you have to leave the building now.”

“I know. I thought I saw someone running this way and it worried me.” Dallas smiled and let him rush her out the front door. Her co-workers stared and whispered comments to each other. Hopefully, they thought she was just a newbie who hadn’t been able to find her way out. If anyone asked, she would tell them she’d been stuck in the bathroom with a personal emergency. She’d originally planned to simply stay inside. This little public display was embarrassing and possibly detrimental to her operation. Still, the event had been educational, and she had to report to River.

The big question was: Should she tell Grissom what she’d witnessed? The risk in reporting the incident was to make herself look suspicious for not leaving the building during a fire alarm. But telling Grissom could earn the CEO’s trust and affection, which could be leveraged into information.

After they were allowed back into the building, she headed straight for Grissom’s office. His assistant looked surprised to see her. “Do you need help?”

“I need to see Mr. Grissom.”

“He’s with Cheryl Decker right now, and they’re not very happy. I would come back some other time.”

The voices on the other side of the wall grew loud for a moment, then softened. Dallas hesitated. Giving bad news at a bad time could backfire. But it was good that Decker was in there too, so she didn’t find out later and feel betrayed. The longer Dallas waited, the worse it looked for her. “This is important. I have to see him now.” She stepped to the inner door and knocked loudly.

After a pause, Grissom jerked open the door. “I said no interruptions.” His face softened when he realized she wasn’t his assistant. “Jace, can this wait?”

“I don’t think so. I saw something during the fire alarm that you need to know about.”

His body stiffened. “Come in.” His eyes probed her with a worried look. “Should Cheryl stay?”

Did he mistrust his partner? Or want to hide information from her? “Yes, I think so.” Dallas smiled at her boss, who looked distressed.

“Have a seat.”

They all perched on the edge of their chairs, the tension palpable. Dallas launched in. “When the alarm went off, I headed down the stairs, then decided to go back for my purse.” She gave a sheepish look. “I know I shouldn’t have, but my keys and my credit card…” She trailed off purposefully, because it was natural, and glanced back and forth between the two. She was an expert storyteller. “Then when I was in my office, I started having horrible painful cramps.” She cast her eyes down. “I couldn’t function for a minute. When I went out in the hall again, I saw someone go into Mr. Grissom’s office. It clearly wasn’t you, and it concerned me.”

“Who was it?” Grissom’s voice was tight.

“I haven’t met everyone yet, but I don’t think it was an employee. He wore jeans, a baseball cap, and had a beard.” She focused on Grissom again. “It seemed wrong for him to be there, so I stepped into your outer office to see what he was doing. I think he copied files from your computer.” She wouldn’t mention chasing after him unless someone brought it up.

Decker cut in. “Give us more description.”

“About five-eight, I think, and lean. I couldn’t see his hair or eyes, so I didn’t get a good look at him. Plus, the alarm was ringing, so I was a little rattled.” She made her face look apologetic.

“Please don’t tell anyone else about this. I don’t want the employees to worry.” Grissom stood, his mouth a tight line. “Let me walk you out.”

In the hall, he stood close and squeezed both her shoulders. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so grateful, I’d like to buy you a drink after work. Dinner if you have time. Strictly professional.”

Yeah, right.
That wasn’t what she’d heard, but it was an opportunity to gather intel. “The drink sounds nice.”

“Perfect. Let’s meet across the street at Saber’s at five-thirty. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I have things to take care of.”

“Of course.” Dallas walked away, pleased with the opportunity to get Grissom drunk and probe him. Maybe steal his cell phone. She was grateful they hadn’t questioned her role in the incident. Nor had they seemed surprised by the espionage. This was an intense industry, and the idea that Palmer had been killed to silence him seemed more likely than ever. She would have to be careful.

Friday, July 11, 5:26 a.m.

River woke and turned to look out her window, expecting to see her lush backyard and overgrown vegetable garden. Instead, an adobe wall filled her view.
Oh right.
She was sleeping in a rented apartment in San Diego, working a corporate-sabotage investigation, with an undercover agent depending on her for backup. How had she let herself get sucked into this? She was supposed to be in Eugene, Oregon, handling low-profile cases and adjusting to her new life.

Ache seeped into her chest, and she forced herself to get up. But it wasn’t the ranch-style house or the Eugene bureau she missed. Jared, the man who’d come to remodel her house and ended up as her roommate, was all she could think about in her free time. River felt at peace knowing he was there, watering the corn and resurfacing the kitchen cabinets, but she missed the smell of his morning coffee and bacon. She missed laughing with him over the often-silly local news. So far, they were only friends and roommates, but she wanted more. He’d stirred up a long-repressed sexuality that both excited and terrified her. Jared had no idea she’d been a man for most of her life, and River had no idea how to tell him.

She padded into the kitchen and heated water to make tea. If she were at home, she would practice yoga, then go out for a brisk walk, but she had too much to do for the BioTech case, as they’d named it.

River opened her laptop and wrote an email to Jared, but didn’t send it. She made a cup of tea and took it out on the balcony to watch the sunrise. She loved being outside this early without a jacket. A childhood memory of sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night made her smile. She’d been so innocent then. Before she realized she had the wrong body. Before the FBI invaded their home and dug up the dead women in the basement. River let it go. Thinking about her father, the serial killer, was self-destructive. She laughed at herself. Better to pine for a man she would probably never be intimate with.

A faint sound caught her attention. Her phone? River hurried inside to check. Law enforcement never had the luxury of ignoring a call. Her work cell showed a missed call from a local number. She listened to the message: “Special Agent Richard King. The BioTech task force is meeting this morning at nine, and you need to be there. The CDC has some concerns about Palmer’s blood and tissue samples.”

The Centers for Disease Control? What the hell had Joe Palmer died of? Wide awake now, River kicked up her speed. She modified her email to Jared to make it less sentimental, hit Send, and headed for the shower. Afterward, she dressed in dark slacks and a jacket, the same basic clothes she’d worn all her years as Carl River. Only now, she was thirty pounds lighter and would sometimes wear burgundy or brown instead of black. She ate a bagel, tucked her Glock into her shoulder harness, and headed east.

The conference room in the San Diego bureau was three times the size of the one in Eugene and had a nice view from the fourth floor. Neither made her glad to be there. Gratitude for Joe and Jana Palmer, who’d saved her life and given her purpose, was all that made her take a seat, surrounded by stiff-shouldered men who didn’t look happy to see her. Agent King, at the end of the table, nodded as she entered. No one else greeted her. Was it because she was an out-of-town agent with more experience, or did they know about her gender transformation and disapprove? The change was part of her file, if anyone with clearance wanted to look at her background.

I am secure in who I am and do not need their approval.

Next to King sat the only other woman at the table. Middle-aged with a skunk-like streak in her hair, she wore a dark-green dress with no jacket. A scientist from the CDC, River speculated. An introduction a moment later proved her correct.

“This is Ms. McDowell from the Centers for Disease Control,” King said. “She’ll present first, so she can leave before we get into confidential details.”

The woman stood. “This case came to our attention when the San Diego County Medical Examiner’s office sent us blood and tissue samples from Joe Palmer’s autopsy.” She paused, as if for respect. “The ME noticed a wound on the corpse’s hand that resembled a MRSA infection, so he decided to be precautious and send us samples. The tissue revealed the presence of a previously unidentified bacterium.”

McDowell drew in a nervous breath and continued. “The microbe is closely related to Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus, but appears to have mutated. The good news is that it’s not particularly contagious—‌yet. The bad news is that, like MRSA, it can be deadly to anyone with a compromised immune system or any other body-weakening conditions. We believe the bacterium, which we’ve labeled SA-13, may have killed Mr. Palmer, who was already suffering from an upper respiratory infection.”

“Are you worried about an outbreak?” River had to ask. Her own body wasn’t exactly healthy after the operations and hormones she’d been through.

The CDC official nodded, a vigorous gesture. “It could mutate again and become highly contagious. Everyone working on this case needs to be very careful.”

River remembered the device Jana had found in her husband’s pocket. “What about the PulseTat I turned into the ME’s office? Did you test it?”

“What’s a PulseTat?”

“It’s a medical patch—‌a little sticky film that transmits data. Joe Palmer had one in his pocket, and I took it to the ME’s office to test.”

McDowell’s eyes went wide with discomfort. “I don’t believe that came to our lab. Please check with the county and have them send it over.”

River hoped it hadn’t been misplaced. “Mrs. Palmer told me the PulseTat had to be pulled from the market a few months ago because it started causing skin infections. I think you should look into those infections and compare them to Joe Palmer’s tissue.”

“What’s the company?” McDowell picked up a pen.

“DigiPro. It’s owned by ProtoCell.”

“We’ll investigate, but bacteria doesn’t live long on inorganic surfaces.”

That failed to be reassuring. “What are the symptoms of the infection? In case one of us gets exposed.”

“We’re not sure because we’ve only had one case, and he’s dead. But fever is a classic symptom. Or if an area of your skin becomes red, swollen, or painful, get to a doctor, get some antibiotics, then call us.” The CDC woman gave a grim smile. “But until it becomes contagious, don’t worry about being quarantined.”

Small comfort.

“Any other questions?”

River had one more. “Do you think it’s more likely that Palmer’s exposure to the bacteria was purposeful or accidental?”

McDowell looked startled. “Are you asking if someone could have killed him by deliberate contamination?”

“That’s what we all want to know.”

“I suppose it’s possible, but also unlikely. A perpetrator wouldn’t know how the bacteria would react in a particular individual, other than that they would be sick for a while.” She stopped and reconsidered. “Unless the killer was a scientist and had already tested antibiotics against the pathogen.”

Agent King spoke up. “What is the most likely source of the infection?”

“Probably a food product.” McDowell started to gather her papers. “We’re tracking everything Mr. Palmer ate in the last week of his life, and we expect to find the source in a restaurant or a public gym.”

A new level of tension filled the room. Widespread bacterial infections could result in dozens of deaths.

The CDC speaker turned to Agent King. “If there are no more questions, I’ll excuse myself.”

No one spoke, so she scooped up her briefcase and left the room.

King glanced around. “We’re still checking into Palmer’s death. But we’ll let the CDC conduct its investigation first.” His eyes landed on River. “You should continue your probe into TecLife’s activities. But if Palmer wasn’t murdered, and your undercover agent doesn’t come up with intel in a few weeks, I’ll have to shut it down. UC operations are a drain on resources.”

Bullshit.
The bureau was only paying for two apartments and rental cars, and it didn’t lack for funds.

“Do you have anything to report?” King asked.

“Our undercover agent started work today at TecLife, so she’s already inside.” River knew it wasn’t much, but she’d been busy setting everything up, including finding the rentals and flying home to Eugene to pack for a longer stay. “There’s also the PulseTat I mentioned. It’s still in development, so I have to wonder how Palmer got his hands on one. Has anyone gone to DigiPro to ask questions?” The rest of the task force was supposed to be investigating Joe’s death.

“I did.” Agent Kohl straightened in his chair. “The director said Palmer had been there, but that he hadn’t given him any product samples.”

“Did you ask about corporate sabotage of the PulseTat product?”