Kyle barely restrained a groan. He’d only just walked in the door, tired as hell, and the scene had broken down into chaos, tears, and dirty looks from Gretchen. Just what he needed after the day he’d had. “She was about to get at my computer and papers—”
“Well, why’d you put them where she could get at them? You’re the adult here.” Gretchen sat on the floor, cradling Lara, who stared up at him with wide, innocent, tear-filled eyes.
“Because she’d just smashed into my shin, and it fucking hurt, okay?” He scooped up the bag, stomped over to his work desk, and set it down with a dramatic flourish. “There. Safe.”
“Watch your language! I’m sure she didn’t mean to do it.”
Kyle whirled around. “I know she didn’t mean to, all right? I’ve just had a very difficult day and I’m tired. I walk in the door and bang, she nails me. I’m sorry, I’m just not up for much of anything. I think I’ll just go to bed now.”
“But we haven’t even had dinner.”
“I’m too tired to even eat. You go ahead.”
Kyle left Gretchen sitting on the floor with Lara crying anew, went into their bedroom, slammed the door, and prepared for bed. He stared at himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Lara didn’t deserve to be snapped at like that. Neither did Gretchen. But for God’s sake, he didn’t deserve to come home after a day like this and be hit with drama from the both of them.
The pressure to find the answer to the epidemic weighed on him more each day. He needed breathing room to find that answer before more people died. Maybe he should have come out here by himself after all. Then he would have had no distractions to get in his way.
“You awake?”
Kyle flinched as he awoke to the words. “Now I am.”
“Sorry. I just wanted to talk about what happened tonight.”
He stole a glance at the nightstand clock’s green digits. Midnight. Terrific. He turned toward Gretchen in the dark and hoped he could keep the discussion brief so he could get back to sleep. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so short with her. Probably should have called from the road and let you know how tired I was. Could have avoided the whole thing if I’d given you a heads-up.”
“What happened? Bad traffic?”
Kyle sighed. “That was part of it. Big tie-up on 35, couple lanes shut. Drive back from St. Paul took at least double what it should have. The other thing was my meeting with the state epidemiology chief.”
“What was so bad about that? I thought you were just going to give him a summary of your findings so far.”
Kyle gave a short, caustic laugh. “If only it were that simple. Gretchen, I have no findings. I’ve been working on this thing for weeks and all I’ve got to show for it is a lot of lists. No pattern yet. I just know there’s something going on—but I have no clue what. So instead, I pretty much demanded that he authorize something that I would never ask for under normal circumstances.”
“What?” Gretchen sat up in the dark.
“I asked him to order functional MRIs for all those inmates being held at Lakeside State Hospital. I wanted to see if there’s a pattern in their brain activity.”
Gretchen gasped. “You mentioned that the other night, but I didn’t think you were serious. Do you really have the power to ask that?”
“I have the power to work with local epidemiologists to design studies to resolve epidemics. I know this treads into dangerous territory. These people are not patients, and they’re not going to be asked for their consent. At least fMRIs are considered physically noninvasive.”
“I take it this was a hard sell.”
“That’s an understatement. It was a very difficult conversation. I don’t think we have any other choice, but I still don’t feel good about doing this.”
“Are you sure there’s no other way? Can’t you minimize the problem by asking for releases?”
“No time. I don’t know how long it’s going to take to track down the cause—let alone the solution. We’re already behind the eight ball. Too many people are being killed or maimed every day.” He shook his head. “I can’t do the same thing Dad did.”
“What’s that?”
“Dad didn’t retire early from practicing medicine for the usual reasons. He did it because he felt so guilty about a particular case, he couldn’t bring himself to practice another single day.”
“What happened?”
Kyle sat up, drew his knees to his chest, and bowed his head. “That depends on who you ask. The patient’s family sued for malpractice after she died, but all the experts said Dad did everything appropriate to try to diagnose the problem. It was genuinely elusive. But that’s not how he saw it. When the autopsy revealed the cause of death, he became convinced he should have figured it out in time to save her. If he’d worked just a little smarter, harder, or whatever. If he’d run that one last test. If, if, if. Well, it ruined him. He no longer trusted himself as a diagnostician and he eventually took that belief to his grave. I’d just been accepted into med school when this happened, and it hit me hard. I promised myself I would not go through all the work, training, and sacrifice to become a doctor and then allow something like that to happen. So, I have to find out what’s behind this problem, and time is not on my side.”
Gretchen put her hand on his shoulder. “I know you’ve been harder on yourself with every passing day. But you’re not being reasonable. We’ve been here less than a month. You’re doing everything possible.”
Kyle lay back down and rolled over, facing away from Gretchen. “Dad thought he was doing everything possible, too—until it was too late. I can’t let that happen. I have to find the answer, no matter what it takes. Too much is at stake.”
CHAPTER 16
Pinkish foam oozed from the cow’s nose as she lay on her side in the straw. Marty Janssen leaned against the side of the wooden stall in the dimly lit barn. He’d brought her inside to care for her, but nothing he tried seemed to work. He knelt beside her and pressed his finger to the carotid artery beneath her jaw.
Nothing.
Another one gone.
Marty stood, wiped his hands on his jeans, and sighed. Fourth one just this week. One—maybe even two—he could chalk up as a fluke. Shit happens on a farm. The animals aren’t pets and he wasn’t attached like that. But something wasn’t right. And his bottom line wouldn’t put up with it for very long, either.
All the cows that had died this way were young, but they’d just lost their will to live and gone down fast as if they’d been years older than they were. He ticked through the possibilities in his head. They’d all had their vaccinations. Unless the vaccines were defective, it shouldn’t have been any of those diseases. They’d all had antibiotic mixed in their feed. He didn’t care for that practice, but the bigger corporate farms did it to keep up yields, and he had to follow suit to stay in business. Nope, shouldn’t have been an infection. Not bacterial, anyway.
Marty was fresh out of ideas. He used the best soy-based feed on the market, premixed with antibiotics and vitamin supplements. His herd had been thriving on it for years now. The feed mix cost more up front, but it more than paid for itself in enhanced yields.
He shook his head and pulled his cell from his pocket. He had the vet, Les Anderson, on his speed dial. You never know when there’s a breech delivery and minutes count. Don’t want to go fumbling for the damned vet’s number. He punched it.
“Les here.”
“Yeah, Doc, it’s Marty. Got a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Another cow dead. Fourth this week. All the same symptoms. I’ve tried everything, but they just go downhill and die on me. Need you to come out here and take a look. Can’t have this keep happening.”
“Sure thing, Marty. I’ll try to get out there later today. Like to take some tissue samples from the one that just died.”
“Thanks. See you later.” Marty ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He stared down at the dea
d cow. He’d never seen anything like this in all his years of farming. He sure hoped Doc would be able to figure it out before it ruined him. Last year had been tough enough with the drought. His yields had been terrible and he hadn’t broken even on the year. He’d hoped this year would be better.
But it wasn’t looking very good right now.
CHAPTER 17
“Here’s a hard copy of the results. I’ll send it to you soft as well.” Dr. McKinsey handed Kyle a half-inch-thick, bound report, then seated himself at his desk.
“Thanks.” Kyle started to flip through the report. “Have you had a chance to look at this yet?”
Dr. McKinsey folded his hands on his desk, leaned back, and avoided eye contact. “Yes, I have. The results are remarkable and incontrovertible—as far as they go.”
“How so?” Kyle closed the report and watched McKinsey’s body language to gauge his degree of buy-in for the inmate testing.
He shook his head in amazement. “The areas of the brain associated with aggression lit up like a Christmas tree in the fMRI of every single subject tested.”
Kyle let out a low whistle. “But why?”
“That’s the problem. The fMRI tells us the what, but not the why. You’ll see when you look at the images in the report, the results were so absolutely consistent, you’d think they were multiple studies of the same brain. That makes me believe that we’re looking at a unified cause here, but what it is, I have no idea—at least not from just this study.”
McKinsey’s response suggested he’d be amenable to taking the testing a step further. Kyle decided to exploit the opportunity. There was no time to lose, and the fMRI results screamed for follow-up despite the ethical complications. He cleared his throat and forced the words from his dry mouth with what he hoped was a confident, casual tone.
“Dr. McKinsey, you know we’re going to have to track down the why.” He waved the report in the air. “You said yourself these results are suggestive of a common root cause. We can’t stop now.”
McKinsey folded his arms across his chest and scowled for a moment before answering. “Understood. What do you propose?”
Spurred by McKinsey’s receptivity, Kyle sprang out of his chair and paced, counting off the ideas on his fingers as they came to him.
“More extensive studies focusing on organic factors that influence brain function. I want to see full blood chemistries, including assays for all neurochemicals associated with aggression and stress. Check blood pressures—maybe there’s a pattern there. And gut bacteria cultures. There’ve been some important studies lately showing that different species of gut bacteria affect brain function via neurochemical influences.”
He stopped pacing and faced McKinsey. “None of these tests may yield the answer. They may only lead us a level deeper. But I think these are the most appropriate studies to perform next, and they’re still relatively noninvasive.”
McKinsey sighed, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. “I agree with your approach in theory, but that’s a lot of lab work—both in terms of processing volume and expense. And I barely managed to get the fMRIs ordered. Got a lot of pushback on that because of resources and cost.”
Kyle sat back down and leaned forward in his chair. “If you can arrange for the sample collections, our labs can handle the processing and analysis. We have the staff and budget for it back at the CDC, so that’s no problem. The fMRI results clearly point to something unusual going on. You should be able to use that to counter any resistance. It’s the only way we’re going to have a hope of getting this figured out and under control. The violence has done anything but abate. Public safety is at stake—additional tests are justified.”
McKinsey held up his hands, palms toward Kyle. “I agree with you, but I’m in a position where I have to do a little selling first.” He stood. “I’ll take care of it. Might take some wrangling, but I’ll make sure it gets done as soon as possible.”
Kyle took his cue, stood, and shook hands. “Thank you. Let me know when to expect the samples to arrive at our lab.”
CHAPTER 18
Daphne stabbed the bookmark into her paperback novel and slammed it down on the counter. She glanced around her café at the—once again—nonexistent lunch crowd. She felt like crap as it was, and to drag herself in to wait for customers who never came only made things worse.
To add to her foul mood, Dr. Sloane had called earlier with her lab results. Inconclusive. The values were normal. Well, normal for a person about twenty years older than she was. She wanted her to come in for some additional, unspecified tests to try to pin things down.
She loathed the idea of undergoing more tests while the doctor went on a diagnostic hunting expedition. For that matter, she hated needing a doctor to intervene in her health at all. A healthy diet and lifestyle should be all you needed, absent something like a broken leg.
But what if they did figure it out, and it was something serious?
Daphne decided to close up shop for the day. She doubted she’d miss any stray customers in her absence. Once outside, she pocketed the café key and watched heat ripples rise up from the sidewalk amid the stifling midsummer heat and humidity. She chuckled for a moment at the contrast. In Minnesota, you endured intense heat in the summer. And then in the winter, you could experience cold so profound your lungs wanted to freeze if you took too deep and sudden a breath.
Despite the sweltering heat, she decided to take a little stroll along the main street before heading back to her apartment. She’d been so tired lately, she’s fallen out of her exercise routine, so it might do her some good to get some outdoor air. It was, after all, one of those glorious days in the Upper Midwest when the deep blue sky itself appeared limitless, the billowy white clouds as if they were miles higher than clouds anywhere else.
Daphne walked slowly, taking the time to glance inside the windows of the shops and businesses along the way. They all looked like they were from another time, when things were simpler. She liked that. It was why she’d come to this town.
The hair shop offered men’s and women’s cuts. No frills, just the practical stuff. One station for nails, for those so inclined. The town bookkeeper operated out of a little storefront with a wide window bearing his name in script. You could look in and see his receptionist sitting there behind her desk. A small-town bank, housed in an older brick building with intricate stained glass in the windows.
Daphne wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Even the minimal exertion of her walk had started her sweating in the humidity. She felt a little dizzy, and decided she’d best head back to her place, drink some water, and make sure the AC was going strong.
Trembling, she made her way back the block or so to her apartment and stepped inside, grateful to escape the heat. She dropped her purse beside the door and bent down to pet Agnes. The old black cat slunk over and greeted her by weaving around her ankles, yowling, and blinking her green eyes.
“Hey, there. Glad someone’s happy to see me.”
She picked her up and hugged her close to her chest. She and Agnes had been together for years, and the vibration from her loud and steady purring always soothed Daphne when she was upset. She went into the kitchen to get a glass of water, then, exhausted, collapsed onto the couch to watch some television. She was too tired to care what she watched, so she just left it on the news channel and cuddled Agnes.
“Widespread reports are coming in of foods that are spoiling far earlier than their sell-by dates. The problem affects meats and animal products: beef, pork, and poultry, fresh as well as cold cuts and other prepared items. It’s also affecting milk, cheese, yogurt, cottage cheese, and other milk-based products. Eggs have been affected, too, as well as all products made with eggs, like cakes and other baked goods.
“The foods appear fine in the store, and have good sell-by dates when purchased. But they spoil quickly, even with proper refrigeration. No explanations have arisen so far, and the problem is not limited to a single supplier.�
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Daphne smirked. Her diet was safer and healthier than a diet that included animal-based products. Just more proof.
CHAPTER 19
“Thank you.” Kyle accepted the steaming cup of coffee from Gretchen without taking his eyes off his laptop screen. He had a full day ahead of him, and with any luck, maybe some answers at last.
“So what’s going on now?”
“The lab results from the CDC just arrived in my email. I really need to concentrate right now.”
She sighed. “All right. Maybe I’ll get Lara and take her outside to play.”
He turned to face her. “I’d really appreciate it if you would. This is a massive report, and I can’t afford to miss anything, no matter how subtle. I’ve got to dig through it quickly and thoroughly.”
Gretchen tried to peer over his shoulder at the laptop’s screen. “It’s all right. I understand, really I do. It’s just that sometimes I feel … well, I wish I could help out somehow. You’re pouring all your energy into this, and I don’t have all that much to do except take care of Lara. Guess I should maybe check out the town more.”
“Maybe you should. Just be careful out there. Look out for anyone behaving strangely.”
“I will. I’m still really on guard after that Walmart incident.” She kissed his cheek and nodded toward his laptop. “Hope you find what you’re looking for in there.”
“Thanks.”
Relieved to be left alone to work in peace, Kyle opened the enormous PDF file and began scrolling through its contents. Fortunately, the CDC lab had aggregated the results, so not only did the report contain individual results by subject number, but for each specific test, there was a graph or chart depicting the pattern of results across all the test subjects. That would make his work at least somewhat easier.
Broken Chain Page 5
