Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Nathan Chambers gazed at Dan in silence. Then he gave a slow nod.
“So the news reports weren’t hype after all.”
Dan held his head high. “If you mean I’m a genuine psychic, then yes, I am.”
Chambers pushed out a sigh. “I can count on one hand the number of people who know Samantha and I are—were—related. And I’d like it to stay that way for the time being.”
Gary stared. “Your sister?”
“She kept her married name.”
In his elation at uncovering the truth, Dan had forgotten Nathan’s loss. “I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.
Gary softened his voice. “My condolences. I know how you must be feeling right now.”
Chambers gave him a speculative glance. “Yes. If anyone does, you do.”
And that right there was enough to let Dan know Chambers had been doing a little digging of his own.
“Are you looking into her death?” Gary asked. “Unofficially, of course. Because I imagine you have far greater resources at your fingertips than Boston PD.”
“I can’t discuss that,” Chambers told Gary. “But I am following your investigations very closely.”
The question was on the tip of Dan’s tongue. Our investigations—or us?
“Is there anything you can share?” he asked at last. “Something that might help us?”
Chambers said nothing for a moment, then straightened.
“Her being my sister doesn’t change a thing.
I’m sorry, but your questions will have to go unanswered.
” He paused. “Now I understand why you got as far as you did in your investigations. The two of you make an incredible team. If you ever decide you want to step into the shadowy world of Intelligence, come see me.”
Then he strolled out of the interview room.
“He hides his grief well,” Gary observed.
“Maybe too well,” Dan murmured.
Gary frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s good at hiding his emotions. I didn’t get a glimpse of his grief the whole time we were talking. Having such control… I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
Actually, he was certain it wasn’t good at all. People who could detach themselves from their emotions scared the shit out of him.
Ludlow had been that kind of person.
They headed to the office, neither of them saying anything. When they got there, Gary closed the door, and Dan couldn’t hold back a moment longer.
“Homeland freaking Security? And that was me being restrained.” He stared at Gary. “And you, Mr. Ice. I am in awe of your cool. Unless you have members of the intelligence community dropping by on a daily basis.”
“No, this is a new one.” Gary flopped into his chair. “Is it me, or―”
“Or did our case take on a whole new dimension?”
“Our case?” Gary laughed. “That doesn’t sound as if we’re about to back away from this.”
Dan blinked. “Do you want to?” He didn’t picture Gary as the kind of man who would give up without a fight.
“Hell no. Besides, what can he do if we continue?”
Dan wasn’t certain he wanted to dwell on any possible repercussions—or the possibility of having the Department of Homeland Security falling on them from a great height.
Gary rubbed his finger over his lips. “So where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m curious.” Dan went to his desk and picked up the sheet he’d typed up before they’d had to go see Travers.
“About what?”
“Tyler said something that stuck in my head for some reason. ‘Last time I ever went to a foam party.’”
“And you think that’s important?”
Important enough that it kept tugging at him, which was why he’d made a note of it. Because it rang a bell.
Someone else had mentioned a foam party. He was sure of it. But who?
Then he had it. Jonathon Wilmer’s recording. Samantha Phillips talking about a foam party in Fort Lauderdale being the source of infection.
Infection?
He closed his eyes, focusing on his memory of the recording.
The CDC were called in, she said. It was an outbreak of…
Monkeypox.
Dan opened his eyes and grabbed his phone.
“What is it?”
He found Tyler’s number and sent a text.
Sorry to do this, but when you have a minute, we need to talk. I have a question about something you mentioned. Urgent.
“Dan?”
Dan raised his head. “It’s okay. Just another coincidence. Except I’m hoping that’s all it is. The recording Hutchins gave you—can you play it for me?”
“Sure.” Gary tapped on his keyboard, and a moment later the PC’s speaker burst into life. Dan listened to the short recording, and his heart sank.
“Can you call the CDC and ask them about that outbreak she mentioned? Because I don’t recall seeing anything about monkeypox hitting the news. And 2015 wasn’t that long ago. So does that mean they covered it up?”
“Depends how big an outbreak it was. I’ve never even heard of monkeypox.”
Neither had Dan, but he was going to find out all he could.
Gary got on the phone to the CDC, and Dan was dimly aware of his voice in the background.
Dan’s attention was focused on his monitor, and he didn’t like what he saw.
I want to be wrong. Please, tell me I’m wrong.
The trouble was, he had a sinking feeling he was on the right track.
Dan made notes as he read, and while he tried to tell himself it had nothing to do with their caseload, he couldn’t suppress the feeling of dread that stole over him.
It took him a moment to realize Gary was calling his name.
Gary regarded him with obvious concern. “Are you all right?”
Dan shivered. “No, I don’t think I am.”
“What’s wrong?”
He didn’t want to talk about his fears, as if doing so would talk them into existence. “What did you find out?”
Gary arched his eyebrows but thankfully didn’t push him.
“There was an outbreak, in April of 2015. It was covered up because they contained it. There were about forty cases, and they had no idea who was patient zero. They know it originated in Florida. However, they didn’t tell any of those inflicted what they had.
They simply treated them. And there was one fatality. ”
Something was clanging in Dan’s head, an alarm he couldn’t ignore.
“Now can you tell me what’s got you so worried?”
Dan’s stomach clenched. “If I tell you, I won’t be the only one who’s worried.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Dan glanced at his notes. “Something pretty momentous happened last year, and I’d bet we both missed it.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “A virologist, David Evans, used synthetic biology to recreate the extinct horsepox virus.”
“I’ve never heard of that either. Why would anyone recreate an extinct virus?”
“I suspect the short answer to that is because he could, but apparently they were trying to create a vaccine against smallpox. The two viruses are closely related.”
Gary frowned. “But smallpox was eradicated.”
Another nod. “In 1980. Horsepox is an orthopoxvirus, just like smallpox. There are other orthopoxviruses….” He fell silent, waiting for Gary to catch on, to see the writing on the wall.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Gary became so still. “Such as monkeypox. Just how closely related are they?”
Before Dan could reply, his phone buzzed. It was Tyler.
Dan grabbed it and hit Answer. “Tyler, I’m really sorry to be contacting you again, but I have a couple of questions.”
“Fine. Ask them.” Tyler sounded weary as fuck.
“You were talking about how you, Leo, and some of your friends came down with some kind of infection when you were on vacation.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“But you said something a little strange. You said, ‘Last time I ever went to a foam party.’ What did you mean by that?”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
“Leo’s theory was that was where we all contracted it—a foam party at a gay bar.”
“Was that the same gay bar where he thought he saw Professor Martin?”
“I assume so. I think it was the only time Leo set foot in a gay bar that week.”
“And when was that, exactly?”
“We were there the beginning of April, 2015.”
Shit.
“And what exactly was wrong with you?”
“The doc wouldn’t tell me or Leo. I had to research it, but actually it wasn’t difficult to find.”
Dan’s heart pounded. “Was it monkeypox?”
“How did you know?” There was a pause. “Oh. I forgot. Stupid question.”
“You told us one of your friends died from the infection.”
“Yeah, Charlie.”
“Was his the only death?”
“I think so.”
Dan was sinking into a mire of coincidences.
“Is that it?” Tyler asked.
Dan took a deep breath. “You said you didn’t know if Leo actually spoke to Professor Martin.”
“He never mentioned it.”
“Okay. When did he tell you about his theory that Professor Martin was gay? That he’d seen him in the gay bar? What was the date?”
“Seriously? It was three years ago. I can’t remember that.”
“Please, try to think.”
Tyler went quiet for a moment. “Okay…. I’m pretty sure the debate was the day after my birthday, so that would make it May fifteenth. Leo told me that day.” Another pause. “Are we done now?”
“Yes, we’re done. Thanks for your time, Tyler. We really do appreciate it.” He disconnected, then sagged into his chair. “When was Leo killed?”
Gary opened the folder. “His body was found May twenty-first, 2015.”
Dan nodded. “Less than a week after Leo told Tyler about the professor. But I’m sure that’s a coincidence, right?” He shivered.
“Hey.” Gary got up from his chair and came over to where Dan sat. He squeezed his shoulder.
Dan shook his head. “Sometimes I hate being right.” He gazed up at Gary. “That’s why it was tugging at me. The incident described by Samantha Phillips and the story Tyler told us? They were both talking about the same event.”
“So where does some virologist recreating an extinct virus come into it?”
“They’re too damn close: horsepox, monkeypox—and smallpox.”
Gary froze. “No one’s synthesized smallpox, have they? Because that would be big news.”
“No, that would be scary as fuck news.”
“And even if they had, that has nothing to do with a student, a housebreaker, and a journalist getting shot in the head.”
“Or a scientist being run off the road and her car turning into a fireball. Don’t forget that part.”
Gary perched on the edge of Dan’s desk. “Something I have to ask. Has your gift ever steered you down the wrong road?”
Dan frowned. “What you mean is, is my mind working overtime? Am I seeing links where there are none?”
Gary’s face fell. “I didn’t mean to—”
Dan grabbed his arm. “It’s all right. I know how crazy it sounds. And I keep telling myself the same thing—that I’m imagining things.” Another shiver. “And I hope to God that’s what it is.”