“Seriously, Fletch,” she muttered and pressed the button again.
She started counting. One, one thousand. Two, one thousand. Three, one thousand. At sixty, she jerked on the door handle. It came open under her touch. Shocked, she stood there for a moment. Nick, the Veritas electronics expert, had supervised the installation of top-of-the-line security just a few months ago. This door sure shouldn’t be unlocked.
Feeling more unsettled, she stepped into the small foyer with a single chair and small table. The building felt cool after being in the bright sunshine. Silence greeted her.
“Fletch,” she yelled. “Carson? Are either of you here?”
Her voice reverberating down the long hallway was the only sound. Fletch could easily be so wrapped up in his work that he didn’t hear her. If the door hadn’t been unlocked, she wouldn’t be worried.
But she was worried. Very.
She reached into her purse for her gun. She’d carried for years and shot with Grady all the time in their small firing range behind their building, so she was very comfortable handling guns.
She eased down the hall and peeked in the window of the small lab with one stainless steel table and cabinets ringing the room. Fletch’s assistant used this lab when Fletch wanted to be alone.
A microscope sat on the table, slides lying next to it, but no one occupied the stool. She continued farther down the hall to the next window, which overlooked Fletch’s lab. He’d covered the window with white paper. Normal state of affairs. He didn’t want onlookers. He designed the building, and when she’d asked him why he’d installed a window, he said it was expected. Then, the moment he occupied the lab, he covered it with paper, unnecessary as he rarely let any visitors into the lab.
Shaking her head at the memory, she reached for his door. Just like the front door, it was unlocked.
This was his kingdom. His life’s work. And he’d left it unsecured. Even more disconcerting. Especially since the lab had to meet the Bio-Safety Level 4 laboratory standards, which were the strictest standard for labs working with toxins. And that meant the lab must have a locked door with limited and controlled access. Not an open door where anyone could walk in.
She poked her head inside, his office door standing open too. She didn’t see him.
“Fletch,” she called out, hoping he just hadn’t heard her before.
No reply. Getting really worried now, she hurried down the hall, checking rooms. Small kitchenette. Bathroom. Storage closet. Still no sign of Fletch.
She raced to his apartment, the door ajar. “Fletch. Fletch. Where are you?”
The tiny one-bedroom was devoid of any personal décor and held very little furniture. She made a quick assessment of the place but found no sign of Fletch. The sink was filled with dirty dishes. A cereal bowl with milk congealed in Cheerios sat on the table. A half-filled cup of coffee sat next to it. She checked the pot. It was cold.
So, was this coffee from early this morning or days ago? What was going on?
She hurried to the bedroom. Found his bedding rumpled, but no one in the room or the bathroom. She looked in his medicine cabinet and found his toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant. His closet looked normal. A mess but normal. His small suitcase, which he used when he came to the city for the night, sat on the floor.
He hadn’t packed a bag, but he wasn’t here. He could’ve gone to the city, but she doubted that. In that case, he wouldn’t have asked her to visit him and help out.
“His boat,” she said, the thought popping into her brain. She ran down the hallway and outside. She wound through the tall grasses again to get to the boathouse. Water lapped at the building, and a soft breeze rolled in from the river, but it was still hot and muggy. She brushed her hand over her forehead and tugged on the door. Locked. She shifted to look through a dirty window. His speedboat wasn’t on the rack. Did he leave the island in his boat? Leave Carson behind? She couldn’t imagine him doing so.
A mosquito bit her leg, and she slapped at it. Panic starting to form, she moved out of the deep grass to the path. If he’d left the island on his own, why hadn’t he locked up behind himself?
Maybe he’d left her a note.
She turned and raced back down the path and inside the building. She entered Fletch’s lab, a large room with six stainless steel tables in the center and white cabinets circling the perimeter. On the countertops sat state-of-the-art science equipment. She was struck again by how quiet it was. Only the fans from the special air filtration system installed to comply with federal regulations hummed.
She glanced into his office, her heart pounding like a conga drum, and found his desk the usual jumbled mess of papers. She searched for a note but didn’t find one. Hoping to see what he was working on, she turned back to the lab.
The tables were covered with a very fine clay-colored powder.
Odd.
She stepped in deeper and moved around the office wall. Her foot bumped something soft. She stuttered to a stop. Looked down. Gasped. “No. Oh. No.”
A body lay crumpled on the floor. Male. Back to her.
Her heart sank, and she forced herself to take in the details. Lab coat. Jeans. A thick head of hair. Not the right color for Fletch. And too chubby. Fit Carson’s build.
She rushed around his body to kneel beside him. Away from the air filtration system, the stench of death rose up to greet her.
She clamped her hand over her mouth and nose.
“Carson,” she mumbled around her hand. “Carson. Are you okay?”
She turned him over, and bile rose in her throat. His face bloated and purple. His lips blue.
He was dead.
Still, she pressed her fingers on his neck. No pulse. Cold skin.
Dead. Honestly and truly dead, and had been for some time. If not for the strong ventilation system, she would’ve smelled the decay when she’d first entered the lab.
Now, the smell was thick and cloying. She wanted to hurl. To run. But she forced herself to take a good look at him. No knife or gunshot wound. Not even a bruise on his face.
What had he died from?
A vial lay next to his hand. She leaned closer to read the label.
Botulinum.
No. Oh no. It can’t be. She jerked back.
Botulinum, or botulism, was deadly. Very deadly. Scientists agreed that it was the most toxic substance known to man.
Was this what Fletch had wanted to tell her about? The reason for the powder on the tables?
She scrambled back from Carson and looked around. The rat cages were silent, the animals all dead.
Had Fletch found a way to make the toxin airborne? She still had her hand clasped over her mouth and jerked it free. Had she inhaled some of the poison?
She looked at her knees. Fine powder covered her jeans.
If she had been exposed, and if she didn’t get access to the antitoxin, she could have only days to live.
She tried to remember everything she knew about botulism. Inhalation led to paralysis, starting with the eyes and working down the body. Obviously fatal. She’d once read that scientists estimated that one single teaspoon of the toxin was enough to kill over a billion people. And she might have been exposed to it.
She wanted to run screaming from the building, but she couldn’t. Not when her clothing could be contaminated. She might have already carried some of it out of the building on her feet when she’d gone to the boat house.
Oh, dear, God, please no. Please don’t let this be airborne. Don’t let me have breathed it in. Or ingested it when I touched my face.
Tears wetted her eyes, and her mind clouded over. What should she do?
“Think, Maya, think.”
Where was Fletch? Maybe he’d tried to go for help. Or maybe he was dead somewhere on the island.
No. No. He would have called the health department and arranged to get the CDC to the lab, along with the antitoxin.
She dug out her phone and tears started to fall. She didn’t have
the health department’s number, but she did have a contact who could get them there faster than she could.
She dialed Hunter, a person she never thought she’d ask for help again.
“Special Agent Hunter Lane.” His smooth baritone voice raised her angst, and her tears turned into sobs.
“Hunter,” she managed to get out through the panic. “I need you. I need you now.”
BUY DEAD EVEN
Dear Reader,
* * *
Thank you so much for reading DEAD CENTER, Book FIVE in my Truth Seekers series. You’ll be happy to hear that there are more books in this series!
Book 1 - DEAD RINGER - April/2019
Book 2 - DEAD SILENCE - June/2019
Book 3 - DEAD END - September/2019
Book 4 - DEAD HEAT - March/2020
Book 5 - DEAD CENTER - April/2020
Book 6 - DEAD EVEN - June/2020
I’d like to invite you to learn more about these books as they release and about my other books by signing up for my NEWSLETTER. You’ll also receive a FREE sneak peek of my latest book and learn about my monthly giveaways. I love to interact with and hear from readers, so hop on over and let’s connect via the newsletter, on social media, or even send me a message.
* * *
Susan Sleeman
Want to see more of the Cold Harbor and Truth Seekers characters in action? Keep reading for a sneak peek of the books in my new Nighthawk Security Series where the Cold Harbor and Truth Seekers characters work side-by-side with the Nighthawk Security characters..
* * *
NIGHTHAWK SECURITY SERIES
Protecting others when unspeakable danger lurks.
A woman plagued by a stalker, children of a murderer, a woman whose mother died under suspicious circumstances. All in danger. Lives on the line. Needing protection.
Enter the brothers of Nighthawk Security. The five Byrd brothers with years of former military and law enforcement experience coming together to offer protection and investigation services. Their goal—protecting others when unspeakable danger lurks.
Book 1 – Night Fall – November, 2020
Book 2 – Night Vision – December, 2020
Book 3 – Night Hawk – January, 2021
Book 4 – Night Moves – July, 2021
Book 5 – Night Watch – August, 2021
Book 6 – Night Prey – September, 2021
* * *
For More Details Visit -
www.susansleeman.com/books/nighthawk-security/
NIGHT FALL
PRE-ORDER NIGHT FALL - BOOK 1
Former Navy SEAL and ATF Agent, Aiden Byrd with Olympic downhill skier Harper Young.
She faces dangerous situations all the time…
Olympic downhill skier Harper Young knows what it’s like to look danger in the face. After all, she does it every time she races down a ski slope. She’s fine with that danger and even excels under the pressure, winning Olympic gold. And as a governor’s daughter, she’s familiar with receiving threats from the general public. But when a stalker turns his sights on her, she has zero skills to protect herself.
But she has no idea what lurks in the shadows.
Former Navy SEAL and ATF Agent, Aiden Byrd of Nighthawk Security is well versed in protection skills and knows the dangers she faces. Problem is, there’s an instant attraction between Aiden and Harper, and Aiden has to fight to remain professional. As the stalker grows bolder and tries to end Harper’s life, Aiden’s only hope in keeping her safe is to deny his feelings. Something that borders on impossible.
BOOKS IN THE COLD HARBOR SERIES
Blackwell Tactical – this law enforcement training facility and protection services agency is made up of former military and law enforcement heroes whose injuries keep them from the line of duty. When trouble strikes, there’s no better team to have on your side, and they would give everything, even their lives, to protect innocents.
* * *
BUY the COLD HARBOR SERIES
THE TRUTH SEEKERS
People are rarely who they seem
A twin who never knew her sister existed, a mother whose child is not her own, a woman whose father is anything but her father. All searching. All seeking. All needing help and hope.
Meet the unsung heroes of the Veritas Center. The Truth Seekers – a team, that includes experts in forensic anthropology, DNA, trace evidence, ballistics, cybercrimes, and toxicology. Committed to restoring hope and families by solving one mystery at a time, none of them are prepared for when the mystery comes calling close to home and threatens to destroy the only life they’ve known.
BUY the TRUTH SEEKER SERIES
HOMELAND HEROES SERIES
When the clock is ticking on criminal activity conducted on or facilitated by the Internet there is no better team to call other than the RED team, a division of the HSI—Homeland Security’s Investigation Unit. RED team includes FBI and DHS Agents, and US Marshal’s Service Deputies.
For More Details Visit -
www.susansleeman.com/books/homeland-heroes/
WHITE KNIGHTS SERIES
Join the White Knights as they investigate stories plucked from today’s news headlines. The FBI Critical Incident Response Team includes experts in crisis management, explosives, ballistics/weapons, negotiating/criminal profiling, cyber crimes, and forensics. All team members are former military and they stand ready to deploy within four hours, anytime and anywhere to mitigate the highest-priority threats facing our nation.
www.susansleeman.com/books/white-knights/
About Susan
SUSAN SLEEMAN is a bestselling and award-winning author of more than 35 inspirational/Christian and clean read romantic suspense books. In addition to writing, Susan also hosts the website, TheSuspenseZone.com.
Susan currently lives in Oregon, but has had the pleasure of living in nine states. Her husband is a retired church music director and they have two beautiful daughters, a very special son-in-law, and an adorable grandson.
For more information visit: www.susansleeman.com
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