by Diane Capri
“How’d you score that? I thought no family members were talking.”
Drew propped his feet up on another chair and flipped through the channels. “I know a guy who knows a guy.”
Drew was a local, just like Jordan. Of course, he had contacts he could exploit. That interview was sure to impress her bosses on Monday morning. They wouldn’t find out until then. Jordan had learned very quickly that the weekend stories are invisible to anyone from the station who doesn’t work them.
Antonio poked his head into the conference room. “Ready man? We better get going.”
Drew hopped up. “Let’s do this thing.”
As Jordan headed back to her edit bay, the heavy metal stairwell door clicked open and closed. She walked toward the sports cave and spotted Miles approaching from the opposite direction.
“Miles Pike,” she said, filing into the cave behind him.
“Jordan Fox. What’s up?” He set his briefcase down by his desk, draped his suit jacket over the back of his chair, shook his mouse to wake up his computer, and sat down at his desk. He turned his chair and he faced the room’s center where Jordan awkwardly stood.
“Couple questions about the Plant University soccer team,” she said.
He gestured to the black leather couch opposite him. “Take a seat.”
Miles had sandy blonde hair, gelled in the front, and was sturdy and tall. He possessed an air of confidence as if he was an actual professional national athlete. Yet he managed to pull this off without seeming particularly cocky. It was difficult to guess his age because he wore makeup on air and he had a baby face, but she’d guess thirty-six, thirty-seven.
As he reclined in his seat and put his arms behind his head, she suddenly felt intimidated. Probably something about the Sports Cave Factor. She didn’t belong here. She’d ask her questions and scram.
“Yeah so, have you heard anything about the soccer players getting sick?”
“It’s not just the soccer players. It’s a handful of guys from just about every team.” He spoke loudly, as if he were on air.
“Just guys?”
“I don’t know about the girls. But I gotta say man,” he shook his head, “I think it’s MRSA.”
“What’s MRSA?”
“You’ve never heard of MRSA?”
Her face instantly warmed. She was supposed to know what MRSA was, right? Was it some kind of sexually transmitted disease?
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said.
Great. So he could tell she was blushing. Even worse.
“MRSA is a really stubborn…bacteria I guess? Causes an infection. Gives you sores on your skin and stuff. Finds its way into locker rooms and gets spread around through towels. And then if it gets in your bloodstream, it’s bad. Headaches, chest pain, rashes…all that stuff. Pretty nasty.”
“Hm.” Five minutes in the sports cave had somehow rendered her speechless.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Miles continued, graciously picking up the conversational ball. “If it is MRSA, we can kiss Tampa’s shot at getting the World Cup goodbye. There’s no rebounding from a stigma that vicious. Anyway, why do you ask? You have a boyfriend on the soccer team?” He smiled as if she couldn’t possibly have any more serious reason for wanting to know.
“I went to the game today and my friend was telling me a bunch of players have been sick. So I was just curious about what was going on.”
Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, she saw Miles sat big, taking up enough space for two people, eyeing her up and down. The sports cave was a man’s place. She didn’t belong here. And he didn’t know anything concrete anyway.
“I’d better get back to work,” she said. “Thanks for the scoop. Hopefully it’s not MRSA. I know how badly Plant U needs to win.”
She headed for the door.
“Hey, you aren’t gonna report that, are you?” Miles called after her. “About the MRSA? You know it’s just speculation.”
“Oh, I know.”
He looked at her with approval. “Good. Keep it quiet. If you get any leads on this, come straight to me, okay? I want to break the story before it gets leaked all over town.”
“I’ll let you know,” she said. Which was only a half truth. She’d let him know—but not before breaking the story herself. He’d do the same in her shoes.
CHAPTER 9
In an effort to spend more time with friends other than Claire, Jordan had bought two tickets to the play Dominique suggested for Tuesday night and invited her friend Amy Carpenter to come along.
Jordan had been hoping to have an alternative to the Instant Pop Star story to suggest to Richard on Monday. After that, she was scheduled for two days off and wouldn’t be back to work until Thursday. She was supposed to leave for Jacksonville Friday morning. Not much time to get something else in place.
But Monday came and went, and Instant Pop Star stuck to her like barnacles on Salvador Caster’s shrimp boats. She had several good leads, but nothing had panned out yet.
The Dominique Wren story might still work, but so far she hadn’t come up with anything new or good enough on that story, either. Jordan had called Dr. Ross to follow up on her guesses about Dominique Wren and Estelle Marcon, but hadn’t connected with Dr. Ross, either.
Jordan had two days off to find the right angle and get the pitch worked out. Action was required. Maybe she could shake something loose tonight.
Amy picked Jordan up a few minutes late because of the traffic driving in from her home in North Tampa.
“Oh my god, the place looks gorgeous.” Amy gaped at the Fox’s new porch. “Look at this.”
“One of the many perks of working in the thrilling world of journalism,” Jordan slid into the passenger’s seat of Amy’s white SUV and buckled up. “Sometimes your house gets blown up and you get a new porch. New kitchen, too.”
“At least your job has perks. All I get is a bunch of complainers every day.” Amy looked back over her shoulder before zipping out into the street.
“I thought you loved being a social worker,” Jordan said.
“I do. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to have some free home renovations.” Amy glanced over at Jordan. “I hope you don’t mind, I invited my friend Ruby to come to the show, too. I met her a couple years ago when I worked with her kids. Very nice. You’ll like her. She’s the head nurse at Plant University.”
“At the school clinic?” Jordan asked, thinking about Dominique’s father.
Amy looked at her again and she slipped into what Jordan called her social worker concern mode. “Does that bother you? Because of Nelson? I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“Not at all. Really. I’m the last person to object to any healthcare provider, Amy. I’m so grateful to you and to everyone who’s helped with Dad.” Jordan reached over and gave Amy’s hand a squeeze. “It’s just—small world. The singer we’re planning to see in the show tonight, her dad is a doctor at that clinic.”
“Tampa’s a smaller town than you realize.” Amy stopped at a red light. “Believe me, I’m a social worker. Around here, people are connected to each other in countless ways. Many of those connections are hidden, unless you know what to look for. But you’re better off assuming people are connected instead of that they aren’t.”
Amy parked in the Plant University parking lot and they walked the few blocks to the theater. Ruby was waiting for them at the entrance.
“Ruby, this is Jordan Fox. Jordan, Ruby Quinn,” Amy said, in the way of introductions. She hugged Ruby. “How are ya, dear?”
“Exhausted.” They handed the attendant their show tickets and entered the large air-conditioned lobby. “Between students coming into the clinic all day and finding a last-minute babysitter for tonight, I’m ready to sit down and relax for a couple hours.”
Ruby certainly didn’t look exhausted, and she definitely didn’t look old enough to have children. She had strawberry blonde hair and green eyes and a
lively smile that lit up the entire room when she flashed it.
“How many kids do you have?” Jordan asked.
“A three-year-old and a five-year-old, both with energy to burn.”
“Really?”
“I know,” Ruby twirled around in her pink flared skirt. “I look twenty-one. I’m thirty. Can you believe it?”
They walked across the glass-walled lobby that revealed a spectacular view of the Hills River.
“Well, you look younger than me, that’s for sure.” Jordan handed two tickets to the usher and Ruby added hers. The usher led them to their seats in the huge theater, Balcony level, second row center. Not bad. “Amy tells me you’re the head nurse at the Plant University health clinic.”
“That’s right. Tough job, but I love it.”
“I heard a bunch of Plant athletes have been getting sick lately. So sick they can’t even take to the field. Do you think it could be MRSA?”
Ruby shook her head. “No. It’s not MRSA.”
“How can you be sure?”
She shrugged. “Too many cases and the wrong symptoms. I think there’s some substance abuse going on.”
“Like a performance enhancement drug with side effects or something?” Jordan asked. “Whatever this is seems to be hurting performance, not helping.”
“Regular students are flooding the clinic, too. Not just athletes. We’re seeing abdominal cramps, tremors, confusion, rapid respiration, and worse.” Ruby hesitated half a moment, as if she was searching for the right words. “Let’s just say the school’s been tightening its academic standards lately. Some students are handling the new rules better than others.”
“So you think it’s a study drug. Like Adderall?” Adderall use was rampant when Jordan was in college. It was an amphetamine-based prescription pharmaceutical used to treat attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, but it produced other results, too. Students used it to pull all-nighters and intensify focus. Adderall prescriptions were easy to get. Passing the drug around or selling it was easy, too.
Ruby scrunched up one side of her face and held one hand palm out and wagged it back and forth. “Eh, not exactly. I’ve seen Adderall abuse and this is worse. This one is like a stronger knock-off. It’s probably synthetic, which means it’s illegal and unregulated. We can’t trace it like we can trace prescriptions. And it seems to be more effective as a study drug than Adderall. Which means more people are abusing it, leading to more sick students. Whatever it is, it’s scary.”
“How long has this been going on?” Jordan naturally entered her reporter mode before she realized it.
Ruby noticed, though. “Off the record, Jordan. I’m not coming forward on this. I need my job.”
“Okay.” She didn’t like being off the record. It meant she’d need another source and she was not likely to find one before she got shipped off to Jacksonville.
Ruby took a deep breath, maybe thinking about what she was about to reveal. “We’ve been seeing symptoms for a few months. I wish students understood these drugs can kill them, but they don’t get that. There’s no econ test worth dying for, you know? I try to explain that to the kids, but they don’t believe me. They’re determined to get those good grades, even if it kills them.”
Jordan wondered how this situation could still be some sort of mystery. Why wouldn’t health officials have figured out what’s going on by now? Surely they would have launched a full-scale investigation if the consequences were as severe as Ruby said.
“Have any students actually died from this Super Adderall drug?”
Ruby hesitated again. Jordan needed to keep her talking and the best way she could think of to do it was to try to show solidarity with Ruby’s dilemma. “I won’t quote you anywhere. But I can’t help you unless I know what to look for.”
She gnawed on her lip and seemed to consider the point for a bit. “No deaths at Plant U, thank goodness. I’ve heard about two deaths, though. One in Central Florida, one in Massachusetts.”
Amy gasped.
Ruby nodded and said, “There are probably others. What we need is to shut down the suppliers. Until we do that, the drug will be passed around and students will OD.”
“What about regular Adderall? Doesn’t anyone just stick to the FDA-approved drug anymore?” Amy had found her voice again.
“It’s a little harder to come by since someone has to get a prescription for it. And it’s more expensive. College kids are poor. Or they want to spend their money on something more sexy.”
Amy said, “Feeling like crap and dying doesn’t seem all that sexy to me.”
Ruby shook her head again and a weak smile barely lifted her lips. “Like I said, this weird knockoff seems to produce results, too, where Adderall just helps them try harder. Overall GPAs have risen more than normal over the past year since the knockoff came on the scene. Adderall never did that.”
The theater lights dimmed and the curtain rose, putting a stop to their conversation.
Jordan had a lot to think about. The knockoff drug could be a compelling story. Compelling enough to give her a boost in the competition with Drew, for sure. Maybe compelling enough to skip Jacksonville for, if she could get the pitch together in time. But she’d need another source.
She was a long way from being able to pitch Super Adderall as a story to replace the Instant Pop Star assignment—she had nothing good enough on Dominique, and she hadn’t confirmed that athletes were using Super Adderall. Neither one of those things would happen in the next twenty-four hours.
She’d have to come up with something else. And soon.
CHAPTER 10
The dazzling display of storytelling, emotion, and harmony on stage pushed the Super Adderall story from Jordan’s mind. Dominique Wren made her entrance a few minutes into the show and stole every scene. How incredibly talented she was. She should win the whole Instant Pop Star competition, just like Jordan’s dad had said. Dominique was that good.
Of course, one of the things Jordan hated about the show was that the most talented singer rarely won because Instant Pop Star wasn’t about the best singer as much as it was about popularity.
As the lights came up to signal intermission, Ruby pulled her phone out and glanced at it.
“We have a new nurse at the clinic.” Ruby fumbled with her phone. “It’s her first week.” Ruby clicked open the text message and read it quickly. “A student is convulsing. It’s that drug, I’m telling you. I’ve gotta go. I can’t let the new nurse deal with this alone.” Ruby hastily texted back, and collected her sweater and her purse. “I told her to call the paramedics and get the student to Tampa Southern Hospital. But I need to be there.” She stood up and brushed her skirt into place. “Thanks for inviting me. It was very nice to meet you, Jordan. I loved the performance and I’m sorry I’ve got to go.”
She kissed her hand and patted the top of Amy’s head, did the same to Jordan, and rushed off to save another student from the dangers of mounting academic pressure. If she didn’t arrive too late.
Jordan stood up to stretch. “You’re right. Ruby is terrific. I really like her. Maybe we can do something with her another time.”
Amy’s eyes twinkled and she flashed a bright smile. “Told you so.”
But Jordan wasn’t in the mood to laugh off Ruby’s abrupt departure. “Do you think she’ll be okay? Should we go help her?”
“She’s a pro, and she called for more professional help. We’d slow her down and be in the way if we went after her,” Amy replied.
The intermission was over and the lights dimmed again. Amy’s words didn’t cure Jordan’s uneasiness about Ruby, though. “Let’s call her when the show is over, okay?”
“Absolutely.”
CHAPTER 11
As the curtain closed on the second half, Amy called Ruby, but the call went straight to voice mail. “She must still be tied up with the student. I’ll try again in a bit.”
Jordan’s concern was mixed with excitement now. She wanted to hear
that Ruby was at home with her kids after confirming the student was a false alarm. She also wanted to wait at the back stage door to congratulate Dominique on her inspirational performance.
Hundreds of rows of theatergoers slowly, politely exited into the lobby and eventually made their way outside like a school of minnows playing follow the leader. Jordan and Amy were packed into in the glacially moving sea of well-behaved people.
“Let’s push against the tide here.” Jordan pointed toward the side door.
“Works for me. Lead the way.”
Jordan scanned the crowd for an opportunity to move sideways. She saw several people she recognized in the crowd of locals herding her toward the front exits. Then, she spotted Dr. Chelsey Ross moving toward the side doors near the stage entrance, too. Dr. Ross saw Jordan and raised a hand in greeting.
“Who is that waving at you?” Amy asked.
“She’s a friend of the family. A doctor, actually.”
“The one who works at the Plant University clinic with Ruby?”
“No. That’s Dr. Peter Wren, Dominique’s father. This is Dr. Chelsey Ross. She’s an infectious disease specialist.”
“She’d know for sure if the athletes have MRSA, then,” Amy said.
“She would. Let’s see if we can catch up to her and ask.” Jordan pushed a little more aggressively and added an “Excuse me, please” or “Can we get through here?” when needed.
Amy trailed behind as Jordan bobbed and weaved through the crowd to intercept Dr. Ross. They connected outside. A warm smile lifted Dr. Ross’s heavily creased face. She extended her arms.
Jordan walked straight into her hug.
Dr. Ross held her tightly for a few moments. Though her hair was gray, her spirit was ageless. “It’s so good to see you, dear. I’ve missed you,” she whispered near Jordan’s ear. “Wasn’t Dominique amazing?” Dr. Ross beamed like a proud parent when she finally released her hold and after Jordan introduced Amy.
“You know Dominique, then?’ Jordan asked.
