to reach her lips. With any other man, the long stare would’ve made Zehra think she was kissing a weirdo, but not this exotic man.
Zehra’s mind swirled. She smelled the lingering hint of his cologne and still sensed his powerful presence. Zehra longed to touch him, to feel his strong muscles. They kissed long and deeply. Then he left
She walked to the sink to clean the cups. Thoughts pressed into her mind about him. She was still cautious but found herself drifting toward him anyway.
Zehra felt a shudder of desire low in her body.
Her cell phone buzzed. A text from Jackie. Zehra called immediately.
“I’ve got great news,” Jackie said. “Dr. Portman’s got a window of time and can meet us in this afternoon.”
In two hours, they sat in the Ramsey County Medical Examiner’s office in St. Paul. A tall man with long white hair that hung over his shoulders, Dr. Portman moved slowly. He sat deliberately in his leather chair, leaned back, crossed his legs slowly, and steepled his hands across the bulge in his middle. “It’s a pleasure to meet you young ladies.”
He made Zehra think of an old hippie. “Thanks for your time. We needed a second opinion on Dr. Wong’s examination.”
“Yes, Helen’s a friend.” He smiled and revealed small teeth. “I found two things that are of interest to me.” His head pushed back and he sucked in a dry breath. “The unusual red markings on the body that Dr. Wong noted … very unusual. Without actually seeing the body itself, I can only make my observations from the photos you emailed me from the autopsy.”
“Of course,” Zehra said.
“Looks to be a rash of some sort. Something like you might think of with eczema but different. Discounting any skin disease, which Dr. Wong didn’t observe, and therefore I won’t speculate, this rash could only mean one thing.”
“What?”
“The young man was sick.”
“Sick?” Jackie looked at Zehra. “Are you sure?”
Dr. Portman’s head came back down to rest on his chest. “I don’t think I could testify under oath, but I’m telling you what I suspect. Yes, he was sick and whatever he had caused the slight swelling and red rash that covered his palms. It’s also interesting the rash was on the palms.”
“Anything else?” Zehra asked.
Portman grinned. “The other evidence even you could see.”
Jackie frowned. “Huh?”
“The contents of the stomach. Alone, it wouldn’t mean much to me-as it didn’t for Dr. Wong. And, it certainly wouldn’t be the cause of death. But together with the rash, it suggests the victim was sick.”
“What was in the stomach?”
“Undigested pills. Ibuprofen, Advil, and what I think were aspirin.”
Twenty-Eight
When Joan Cortez hung-up the phone after talking to Paul, she quivered with excitement. But she forced herself to sit and think. The scientist insisted the boys go back to school, he’d said. She didn’t want to go off in the wrong direction, but this sounded like the plot they feared. Should she call the Army now?
On the one hand, she wanted to break the case and uncover the plot herself. This one by itself would insure her career forever. Still, she knew she couldn’t do it alone. ICE had the manpower but not the technical expertise.
Poor Paul, so far over his head. By the time he figured out what was going on, she’d have it wrapped up. A nice guy, but business was business. He would complain to her after she’d taken it down. She’d simply tell him, “homeland security.” If it was even half as big as they suspected, she’d be a national hero. Her grubby little life would change forever. She could give her son all he deserved. And no need for the dead-beat ex-husband and the pennies he offered. In fact, she may have a lot of interested men in her future.
What scared her was the time table. In a few days, the boy had said. That was a lot faster than expected. Joan calculated. They would have less than a week and a half to head things off. They wouldn’t have much time.
Ribbons of sweat coursed down the sides of her chest. Joan took a deep breath. This wasn’t the same as chasing a bogey across the Mexican border; this would challenge everything they had to combat it. How far had the enemy gotten? Was it here yet? How would they deliver it? If they all missed the small window of time to stop everything, they may as well give up. It’d be too late.
With all the pressure, her mind seemed to slow down until Joan could feel her thoughts struggling to organize themselves, to make some sense of it all, to decide how to proceed. What should she do next? Joan glanced at her watch.
She had to pull a piece of paper across her desk and pick up a pen to try to calculate the timing.
Fear crept up from behind her, causing her to lose her concentration.
Joan sat back and shook her hands out, leaned forward, and started calculating again. She pulled her jacket closer around her shoulders. Joan ran the numbers three times. Finally convinced, she knew what had to be done.
Should she email them?
Too slow. That’s why he’d given her his cell phone number.
Joan picked up her cell and tried to dial the number, but her fingers couldn’t hit the small keys. She started again. This time, it worked.
The phone rang, kept ringing. Finally, someone said, “Yes?”
“It’s Agent Joan Cortez from ICE.”
“Yes …?” The voice sounded hollow, almost bored.
She swallowed. “I have a message. Is this Dr. Samson?”
“What do you have, agent?”
“I think … tell him that it’s already here.”
Twenty-Nine
Carolyn Bechter couldn’t believe her good luck. The old mojo was back. While covering the murder trial of the terrorist, she’d casually asked Zehra Hassan for an on-camera interview. To Carolyn’s surprise, she agreed.
Carolyn would film a killer interview that, combined with what facts she was already gathering, would kick ass all over the country.
She took a deep breath. It was almost too good to be true. Only an old pro like her could handle the whole story. She thought of Schmidt. She’d kick his ass but good.
They met in the late afternoon in the common room of Hassan’s condo building.
Luckily, Carolyn had been able to snag Ray for the camera work. The interview started well, although nothing new was coming up. Hassan was dressed casually and had beautiful eyes. She was photogenic, smart, and Carolyn could sense a toughness underneath. A passionate young woman. Carolyn was confident Ray could pick that all up on film.
She also sensed fear underneath Hassan’s facade. Years of interviewing people
gave Carolyn the skill to read people perfectly.
As for herself, Carolyn was in Oscar-like form. She fluffed her blonde hair more than usual, wore an off-white linen jacket with a teal blouse opened down the front as far as she could without causing Reggie to pull the
