his friend Joe?
Her dad was gathering and arranging an array of items on the countertop: a banana, a bottle of honey, a jug of orange juice, and a carton of milk.
'What are you making here, Dad?'
'Oh, just something. I've got a little bit of a headache.'
'Like a hangover?'
He frowned and she let it go.
'You're not taking the canteen to the beach today, are you?'
'Just for an hour or two.'
'Dad, they're closing the Bob Sykes Bridge at one.'
'I'll be gone by then. Right now there'll be some hungry people on the beach. And I need to check on some friends.'
'Promise me you'll be back here by noon.'
He nodded. 'So I won't see you until after the storm?'
'I'll call and let you know when we get to Jacksonville. We'll be doing search and rescue until they tell us to get to safety. I'm thinking that'll be sometime this afternoon.'
'You be careful. No hotdogging.'
'You be careful, too, hot-dog man.'
He smiled and shrugged.
'I'll talk to you later.' Liz kissed him on the cheek as he splashed milk and orange juice together into the blender. She thought the concoction actually looked too good to cure a hangover.
'I can't believe Scott helped himself to one of my generators without asking.'
'Sorry, Dad. He made it sound like he'd talked to you.'
She grabbed the box of power bars, and as she headed out the door she heard her dad say, 'He really is a dickhead.'
CHAPTER 51
Maggie thought Charlie Wurth was being a bit overprotective. She knew he felt responsible for bringing her to Florida in the middle of the storm, so she wasn't surprised that all the way out her hotel door and down the hall he ranted about her staying on the beach. In fact, she could hear him still mumbling as he got on the elevator.
What she wasn't prepared for was Platt's reaction.
'You really can't stay on the beach,' he told her almost as soon as she closed the door.
'I'll be with the United States Coast Guard.'
He didn't smile.
'Really, I'll be okay,' she said.
'When the outer bands start, there'll be torrential downpours, thunderstorms, possibly tornadoes. Have you ever been in a hurricane before?'
'No, but I've been in a tunnel dug under a graveyard with a serial killer.'
'This isn't funny.'
'I wasn't being funny.' She stood back and looked at him. She'd seen his serious side, the concerned doctor watching over his patient. This was something different. 'I can take care of myself.'
'I know you can.'
He let out a deep breath and rubbed at his jaw, an exhausted mannerism Maggie recognized. It only occurred to her now that he may not have gotten as much sleep as she did last night. She'd been surprised, maybe disappointed, to wake up and not find him beside her.
'I worry about you,' he said.
She started to smile until she saw the look on his face. This wasn't an easy admission for him. They teased each other a lot, but this was serious.
'I really can take care of myself,' she tried again.
'But somehow you manage to get in the way of suitcase bombs and the Ebola virus. Not to mention serial killers.'
'You're the one going off on secret missions to undisclosed locations.' Maggie's sudden switch in tone surprised her as much as it did Platt.
This time, however, he smiled and said, 'So you worry about me, too?'
She shrugged then nodded.
'It's annoying, isn't it?' He was back to teasing. A more comfortable place for both of them.
His phone rang twice and stopped. He glanced down at the number.
'My ride's here.' But he didn't move. 'Call me. Or text me. Let me know you're safe.'
'Absolutely. You do the same.'
He picked up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. He started for the door, then without warning he turned back.
'What the hell,' he mumbled and in three steps he was kissing her, one hand cupping the back of her neck, the other keeping his duffel bag from banging her shoulder. 'Make sure you take care of yourself, Maggie O'Dell.'
She was glad he sounded a little out of breath. As he headed for the door another damned phone started ringing. It was Maggie's. She wanted to ignore it.
Platt smiled at her as he closed the door. 'You better get that.'
She was shaking her head then realized she was smiling, too.
'Maggie O'Dell,' she answered.
'Yes, Ms. O'Dell, this is Lawrence Piper returning your call.'
Platt had made her forget her case. It took her a second to remember who Lawrence Piper was and why she had called him.
'You wanted to know about a delivery,' he prompted.
How could she play this? She couldn't very well tell him she'd found his phone number on a label stuck to a cooler full of body parts. Or could she?
'Concerning Destin on August twenty-fourth,' she said, just as she realized the twenty-fourth was yesterday.
'I don't understand. I told Joe we had to cancel Destin because of the hurricane.'
He sounded like a businessman. She hadn't had the chance to research Advanced Medical Educational Technology. But there was nothing clandestine or sinister in his tone. The best interrogators Maggie had worked with had taught her that the less the interrogator said, the more the interrogated filled in. She waited.
'Are you working with Joe?' Piper asked.
'I'm trying to.' She kept her remarks innocuous.
Piper laughed and added, 'I told him he needed an assistant. Look, Maggie--you don't mind if I call you Maggie.'
A businessman but also a salesman, Maggie decided.
'Not at all.'
'I already told Joe I'd make this cancellation up to him. I've got a couple dozen surgeons coming to a conference in Tampa over Labor Day. I'm going to need at least twenty-two cervical spines. I'd prefer brain with skull base intact, if that's possible.'
Maggie thought about the body parts found in the cooler, individually wrapped in plastic. Could it be that simple? A body broker making a delivery? From what little she knew, there was nothing illegal about it. Most federal regulations applied only to organs. Few states regulated anything beyond that.
'I don't want to lose Joe,' he said when she didn't respond. Evidently Maggie's silence was disconcerting to Piper. 'Can you tell him that? He hasn't called and the number I have for him has already been changed. That's an annoying habit your new boss has.'
