Lost Immunity by Daniel Kalla (free reads TXT) 📕

“Which one?”

“The death of Darius Washington.”

Fiona’s jaw drops. “What?”

“You’re sure?” Nathan asks.

“Someone not only deleted the report on Darius, but they also sent a bogus reply to his roommate, who submitted it.”

“Why?”

“The only plausible explanation I can think of is that he or she”—Lisa glances from Nathan to Fiona—“wanted to protect the interests of Delaware Pharmaceuticals.”

“Wait a minute…”

“There are only a few people who would have the motive and the access to pull it off.”

“That’s crazy!” Fiona’s voice cracks with indignation.

“To protect Delaware how?” Nathan asks, although his mind is already turning over. “To wait for even more complications? And even bigger lawsuits?”

Lisa hesitates. “There’s no other explanation.”

“And you think we’re the ones responsible?”

Lisa stares back at him. “You’ve got to be the prime suspects at this point.”

“Come on,” Fiona mumbles, her face reddening.

“Again, Lisa,” Nathan insists. “Why we would do this?”

“Maybe to stall for time until Neissovax was so entrenched in the battle against this outbreak that we would have to overlook the one little worrisome side effect?”

He scoffs. “That’s weak.”

“OK.” Lisa jabs a finger at him. “Tell me who else would have any possible reason to do it. Or even the opportunity.”

“This is a catch-twenty-two. How can we justify what we don’t know?”

They lapse into a distressed silence.

“I’m reporting this to the FBI,” Lisa finally says.

Nathan can’t formulate a reasonable response, but Fiona leans forward and asks, “What will they do?”

“Investigate,” Lisa snaps. “I understand they do that from time to time with unsolved crimes. Especially cybercrimes and interstate corporate conspiracies.”

Fiona’s throat bobs, and she looks away.

“I don’t mean to sound so harsh. But look at it from my perspective. I have no idea who to trust.”

“You can trust us,” Nathan says.

“No.” Lisa’s eyes meet his. “I can’t. Not unless you can convince me someone else is behind this cover-up.”

“We just found out about it,” Fiona says.

Lisa gets up from the table. “I have to go.”

Nathan resists the urge to grab her wrist as she walks past him. “You want us to take a polygraph test?” he asks.

“Better you explain it to the FBI,” Lisa says without slowing.

Fiona and Nathan watch her stride away.

“A couple days ago we were celebrating the successful launch of a lifesaving vaccine,” Nathan mutters, more to himself than Fiona. “Now? The drug is dead on arrival, and we’re being accused of a criminal conspiracy.”

Fiona locks eyes with him. Never has she looked sadder, and yet there’s also a serene calm in her gaze. “Walt was an atheist. Not even the least superstitious. But right before they put him on the ventilator, he smiled and whispered to me, ‘Everything happens for a reason.’ ”

CHAPTER 50

Lisa looks down and sees her fingers trembling where they rest on top of the steering wheel. The confrontation with Nathan and Fiona has left her feeling rawer and more conflicted, without confirming anything. They both seemed so indignant and convincing, each in their own way, between Fiona’s quiet outrage and Nathan’s visible hurt.

But what if it was just an act? Angela was right. She should never have tipped her hand. They could be furiously destroying the evidence of their complicity at this very moment. But what difference would it really make? Exposing the cover-up doesn’t help Lisa control the outbreak. Kids are still dying of the infection and, now, the potential prevention, too. Putting Nathan, Fiona, or anyone else who might be involved behind bars won’t stop the spread of the lethal meningitis.

Still, Lisa realizes it’s time to involve the professionals. “Call Ingrid,” she tells her car’s voice recognition system. A moment later, her assistant answers. “Hey, it’s me,” Lisa says. “I need you to track down the number of whatever federal agency is responsible for cybercrimes. I’m assuming it’s the FBI, but I don’t really know.”

“Cybercrimes?” Ingrid echoes.

“Long story,” Lisa says. “It’s urgent.”

“OK, sure,” Ingrid says. “Speaking of urgent, Dr. Merkley called twice this morning looking for you.”

“Who’s Dr. Merkley?”

“Says he’s from the toxicology lab.”

A cool rush runs from Lisa’s scalp to her toes. “Text me his number!”

As she impatiently waits for her phone to chime with Ingrid’s text, Lisa realizes she’s only a few blocks from the state toxicology lab on South Walker Street. She heads straight over and pulls into the parking lot, just as the text from Ingrid arrives.

Instead of phoning, Lisa walks through the main entrance and up to the reception desk and identifies herself to the bored-looking middle-aged woman behind it, who doesn’t stop chewing on the end of her pen. After a quick call, the woman motions to the elevator behind her and says, “Third floor. Jimmy’s office is down the end of the hallway.”

Lisa rides the elevator to the third floor and hurries past a series of doors, until she reaches one with a plaque that reads: “Dr. James Merkley, Director.”

Before she can knock, the door swings open to reveal a bearded man in jeans and a frayed, short-sleeve polo shirt, who looks to be in his mid to late thirties. “You must be Lisa,” the toxicologist chirps, and then taps his chest. “I’m Jimmy.”

“Thanks for seeing me, Jimmy,” she says, surprised by his age and relative informality.

“No. Thank you for the fascinating challenge.”

“Challenge?”

“Of extracting all those toxins from a single drop of residual fluid inside the syringe.”

She does a double take. “All those toxins?”

“Come. Let me show you.”

Before she can ask anything more, Jimmy marches past her and back down the hallway toward the staircase. Lisa’s heart is pounding as she follows him down one flight of stairs and into an open lab space.

White-coated technicians work at stations separated by freestanding machinery of various shapes and sizes crowding the floor. Some have built-in screens, while others have enclosed hoods or tubes snaking in and out of them. The only consistent feature is that all the equipment is as white as the walls. For the all the gadgetry surrounding them, Lisa is surprised by how quiet the lab is aside from a steady low-grade hum and