Virals tb-1

by Kathy Reichs

  Hi rose and entered the conference room. Inside, three chairs circled a folding table. Karsten sat next to Carl on one side. Hi took the chair opposite them.

  Karsten wasted no time. “Where were you Saturday morning?”

  Carl leaned on his forearms in an attempt to look menacing. The posture failed.

  “Saturday morning? Let me think.” Hi glanced at the ceiling. “Oh, right! I went to the canine festival with Shelton, Ben, and Tory. We took Ben’s runabout down to the marina and walked to Marion Square.”

  Hi propped his chin on his fists.

  “I remember because it was drizzling, and the dogs were howling like mad. A massive Doberman slipped his leash and tripped Ben. He landed in a huge puddle. It was hilarious! Ben had to buy a new shirt from a stall that only sold animal prints. He was so mad—”

  Karsten interrupted. “What time did you get to the park?”

  “Hmmm. Must’ve been around eight thirty that morning. Tory wanted to buy dog pastries from a vendor selling designer animal treats. The guy had run out, but said his partner was bringing white chocolate bars at nine.

  “I know what you’re thinking. White chocolate. Bad for dogs. But the vendor said only the cocoa is dangerous, and white chocolate doesn’t contain any.”

  Karsten opened his mouth, but Hi was a boulder rolling downhill.

  “Anyway, we bought a bunch to give to the rescue dogs. We couldn’t adopt one ourselves, but we figured we could at least—”

  “Stop!”

  Karsten’s hand shot up to block the torrent pouring from Hi’s mouth. Carl had long since given up taking notes.

  “How long were you at this dog festival? And before you answer, know that I will double-check everything.”

  “No problem.” Hi leaned back, fingers laced behind his head. “I think we left around noon, when the last of the greyhounds was adopted. This huge woman from North Carolina—”

  “I don’t care about that!” Karsten’s nostrils flared. He paused, as though debating something internally. “Out of curiosity, how have you been feeling lately?”

  Hi’s face registered surprise. “What? Fine. Why?”

  “No reason.” Karsten’s eyes returned to his clipboard. “When did you return home?”

  Hi shook his head, resumed his excruciatingly detailed account.

  “Maybe twelve thirty. Just after the large lady left with her pooch. We went to the dog show. A toy poodle won best in breed.” He smiled. “You have to hear about this dog!”

  “So you left the dog festival at eleven?” Karsten asked. Coy.

  “No, sir.”

  Shelton tugged his earlobe, eyes on the tabletop. “It was at least noon. Like, twelve thirty. I remember because it was after the fat chick in the Tar Heel shirt took the greyhound, but before the dog competition.”

  Carl yawned, snapped his mouth shut at Karsten’s disapproving glance.

  “Who won?” Karsten feigned only minimal interest.

  “Poodle,” Shelton said. “Best in breed.”

  Karsten changed topics. “You saw three men in the woods on Sunday night, yes?”

  “Honestly, I was so scared I’m not sure what I saw.” Still Shelton did not look up. “I remember some monkeys running around.”

  “But you reported being chased by armed men.” Karsten was clearly annoyed. “You claimed they shot at you.”

  “I heard two loud sounds, crack crack, like a whip.” Shelton shrugged. “I don’t know what made the noise. I just started running.”

  “What nonsense is this?” Karsten snapped. “You saw no one that night?”

  “I’m sorry sir.” Shelton did meek exceptionally well. “I’m afraid of the dark. Ask my mom. I’m always jumping at shadows.”

  “Why would you run if no one chased you?” Karsten pressed.

  “We found the bones at sunset. Tory said they were human, how scary is that? Then we heard noises coming from across the clearing.” For the first time, Shelton made eye contact. “What can I say? I got spooked. I’m a wuss. I took off.”

  “No armed men? No gunshots?” Karsten raised frustrated palms. “You’re now saying that no one chased you? It didn’t happen?”

  “Sorry,” Shelton muttered. “I guess my mind was playing tricks. After all, no one found any bullets, right?”

  “Where did you dock your boat?” Karsten asked.

  “Charleston City Marina,” Ben said. “Slip 134.”

  “Do you have a receipt?”

  “No. It’s prepaid for the shuttle.”

  “The institute pays for that slip?”

  Ben shrugged.

  Karsten was silent for a long moment. Ben waited. Bored, Carl fidgeted with his badge.

  “Have you been ill?” Karsten asked.

  “No.” Surprised.

  “Nothing at all?”

  “No.” Now Ben sounded suspicious.

  Karsten changed course. “You claimed you saw a human skull.”

  Ben said nothing.

  Karsten slapped the table. “Well?”

  “Was that a question?”

  “Don’t get cute, Mr. Blue. Did you find a skull or not?”

  “It was dark.”

  Karsten glared. “Was there a bullet hole in the skull, as you said before?”

  “I never said that. Tory did.”

  “Was there a bullet hole or not?”

  “It was dark.”

  Karsten drew two long breaths through his nose. One nostril whistled.

  Ben waited.

  Carl asked his first question of the day. “When you arrived at the dog festival, what’s the first thing that happened?”

  Karsten looked annoyed, but listened.

  Ben paused, eyes narrow.

  “Well?” Carl demanded.

  “A dog tripped me. I took a header and ruined my shirt. I had to buy a dorky new one from a vendor.”

  “What was on the shirt?”

  Ben hesitated.

  Karsten leaned forward, eager for a misstep.

  Ben smiled.

  “Some dog.”

  “That will be all,” Karsten hissed.

  “Tory Brennan.”

  Karsten had saved me for last. To mess with my head, I was sure. Make me nervous. Advantage Karsten. But I was determined to hide it.

  “Nice to see you. Sit down.”

  I parked on the hot seat. I felt prepared. We’d practiced like mad.

  Do your worst, jerk.

  “Before we begin, let me be clear.” Karsten removed his glasses and wiped them on his tie. “I know your friends are lying.”

  Gulp.

  The long knives were out. This wasn’t just “information gathering.” This was an interrogation, pure and simple.

  “Their stories were . . .” Karsten chose his word carefully. “Perfect. Airtight.” He replaced his spectacles. “Rehearsed.”

  “I don’t understand.” Innocent as Bo Peep. “We enjoyed the rescue festival, if that’s what you mean.”

  Karsten stared lasers through his now smeared lenses.

  “Carl, leave the room.”

  The command caught Carl by surprise. “My supervisor said I’m supposed to observe.”

  “Now!” Karsten pointed at the door. “Or you’ll be mucking out monkey cages the rest of your career!”

  Shaking his head, the guard shuffled out.

  Oh boy.

  I prepared for the onslaught. By sweating. Thanks glands, glad you could help out.

  When the door closed, Karsten spoke softly.

  “I’m not jumping through the same hoops with you, Miss Brennan. I’d be wasting my time.”

  “Dr. Karsten, I made a mistake.” I tried to sound embarrassed. “I was confused. It was frightening, finding something dead in the dark. I panicked.”

  “I don’t believe for one second you confused anything.”

  The gloves were off.

  “Do you know how I’m acquainted with your Aunt Temperance?” Causal as wate
r-cooler gossip.

  I shook my head. This wasn’t what I’d expected.

  “We worked together in Sudan. Five years ago. Excavating Tombos, a colony of ancient Nubia.” Karsten pressed both palms to the table. “Dr. Brennan is an expert with ancient skeletons. You idolize her. You read her books.”

  Karsten leaned close. I could smell the starch of his lab coat, see the enormous pores on his nose. “You’d never mistake monkey bones for human remains.”

  I cast about for a response. My mind was quicksand. I hadn’t prepared for a direct attack.

  “You’ve felt unwell lately.” Karsten’s voice was hard. “Haven’t you?”

  “Unwell?”

  “Fever? Headache? Disorientation? Fatigue?”

  “Not at all.”

  Karsten exploded.

  “Where is the dog!? ”

  Adrenaline fired through me.

  Coop! He knows!

  “What?” My voice cracked.

  “Where. Is. The. Dog?” Karsten slammed both fists on the table. “Enough games! I want him back. Now!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered.

  The denial rang false, even to me. I considered bolting, decided it was pointless.

  “Did you steal him by yourself?” Karsten hissed. “How did you gain entrance to that lab?”

  I didn’t answer. For a terrifying moment, I thought I might faint.

  “Who told you to look for a body there?” A bony finger jabbed the table. “At that precise spot.” Something malevolent danced in Karsten’s eyes. “I know you’re working with someone.”

  Silence.

  Karsten sat back, squared his shoulders, and breathed deeply. When he spoke again, his voice was cool and modulated.

  “If you think I’m a fool, Miss Brennan, you’ve picked the wrong man. I will catch you. And I will recover the animal.”

  I found the icy calm more unnerving than the fury. But anger kept my fear in check. Given the chance, I knew Karsten would execute Cooper.

  Suddenly I pushed forward, craning over the table. The move caught the old bastard by surprise.

  “Bring it on,” I hissed, inches from Karsten’s face.

  Before he could react, the door burst open and Kit stormed in.

  “Why is my daughter being interrogated alone?”

  “We’re done here.” Karsten rose. “Feel free to take the children home.”

  With that, the old bastard strode past Kit and disappeared down the hall.

  “You okay, kiddo?” I could see that Kit was livid. He glared down the hallway Karsten had just vacated. I suspected Kit was verging on a career-threatening move.

  “I’m fine. We were chatting about the dig stuff. No biggie.”

  “Are you sure, Tor?”

  “Absolutely. Karsten’s not so bad!” The lie turned my stomach, but I didn’t want Kit taking action he’d regret. “Let’s go home. I’ve got tons of homework.”

  Kit hesitated a moment, then, “Fine. We’ll talk about this later.”

  Gathering my things, I hurried outside on shaky legs. And managed to keep it together the entire ride home.

  Barely.

  CHAPTER 35

  The director of LIRI was angry. And more than a little scared.

  Dr. Marcus Karsten sat in his office, absently stroking the chimp skull he used as a paperweight. He’d acquired the artifact years earlier while researching Ebola in the jungles of Zaire. Its solid presence reminded him of past successes. Gave him confidence during times of turmoil.

  Like now.

  Karsten lifted the cranium and gazed into the empty orbits. My life has revolved around killer viruses, he mused. What’s one more in the collection?

  He stroked the polished bone, trying to calm his jangled nerves. Without success.

  No way to sugarcoat things. The interviews had been a disaster. The kids had been prepared. He’d learned nothing.

  Karsten returned the skull to his desk, still agitated. He, the adult and intellectual superior, had lost his cool. Worse, he’d failed to trip up the little delinquents. Their stories matched, down to minutiae.

  A blasted dog festival? No way. They were lying.

  And they’d uttered the name Katherine Heaton.

  A chill traveled Karsten’s spine. What had these bubblegummers learned about Heaton?

  Karsten’s fingers drummed the desktop. In the large bay window at his back, afternoon sunlight faded to evening.

  Their audacity astounded him. Did they request authorization to dig? Not a chance. They’d just gone ahead with their plan. On his island!

  They knew I’d say no, so they simply ignored me. Impertinent punks.

  But why dig there? That spot and no other? Someone directed them. Who? I must find out, before they cause more trouble. Real trouble.

  Tory Brennan.

  Karsten’s fingers started drumming adagio. He returned them to the soothing cool of the skull.

  The Brennan girl was the key. Insolent. Know-it-all. And, yes, brilliant. He had to admit. Her intellect was astounding for one so young.

  And she is tough. The cheeky brat taunted me.

  The memory enraged him. He pressed trembling palms to the chimp’s parietals.

  I lost control back there, tried to intimidate a teenage girl. Foolish. And sending Carl from the room? Lunacy. Attempting to bully Brennan had been a colossal mistake.

  Dr. Howard can make waves. From now on, I must be more careful.

  The University will ask questions, learn of the hidden lab. Inevitable. I can’t keep Carl quiet forever.

  I have to proceed with caution. Keep away prying eyes.

  And I must find that cursed dog.

  Karsten watched a tangerine sun slip below the top of a green-black forest. Breathtaking. But he couldn’t shake the anxiety, the feeling of impending doom.

  He kept remembering the Brennan girl’s eyes after his outburst. Something lurked there. Not fear. Not confusion. Not panic.

  Something more dangerous. And very familiar.

  Rage. Brennan had been furious.

  What could trigger such anger in a teenage girl?

  Fear for something she loves.

  Karsten’s palms squeezed the skull.

  The dog.

  Brennan knew the whereabouts of Subject A. She’d practically admitted it.

  Karsten had no choice. He needed that animal back as quickly as possible. His benefactor was neither forgiving, nor afraid to use force.

  In the game Karsten played, there were no second chances.

  CHAPTER 36

  “Carl said I talked too much. What a joker.”

  Hi sat on the floor, locked in an intense tug o’ war with Coop. The puppy rolled and growled, giving it his all.

  “Yuck it up, pal.” Shelton spooned dog food into a bowl. “Karsten harassed me the whole time. I almost blew it.”

  Catching a whiff of Science Diet, Coop padded over to investigate.

  “He suspects us,” Ben said.

  Parked in my usual turret groove, I debated sharing what had taken place during my interview. Ben was right. Karsten had accused me directly.

  “Playing dumb worked,” Shelton said. “My parents don’t suspect a thing.”

  “We still have Dr. Dumbass to worry about.” Hi, ever the poet.

  We’d met up after dinner. The adults usually left us to our own devices on weekend evenings. While they thought we were on the beach, we’d gathered at the bunker.

  Shelton smiled. “Your advice was good. Karsten asked about little things. Ben’s pratfall, the fat lady, even the poodle. I could tell he was pissed.”

  Hi bowed without rising. “BS is my specialty. If you lived in my house, you’d be a pro, too.”

  “The old fart even asked where I parked the boat,” Ben said. “Weirder, he asked if I’d been sick. Trying to throw me off, I guess.”

  The tinniest alarm sounded in my brain.

  “What exactly did he say
?” I asked.

  “Just that. ‘Have you been sick?’ Now that I think about it, he asked me twice.”

  “Funny, I had the same question,” Hi said. “Caught me off guard. But I lied and said no. I wasn’t going to mention my blackout after running from Charleston’s finest.”

  “Me too.” Shelton mimicked Karsten. “Have you been unwell lately, Mr. Devers? Flu-ish? Anything at all?” His eyes rolled. “What’s his angle, anyway?”

  “Karsten must have a reason,” I said. “He brought it up with me, too.”

  An accusation, not a question. I didn’t say it.

  “Why would he think we don’t feel well?” Shelton cleaned a glob of dog chow from Coop’s whisker.

  “Or care?” Ben added.

  “I don’t know.” Not totally true. “The break-in took place during a storm. Maybe he thinks the burglars caught cold.”

  The others looked at me like I was nuts.

  “To be honest, I haven’t been feeling great.” Hi sounded a touch nervous. “And why did I faint on the boat?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m feeling run down too.” I forced a chuckle. “We’ve had a big week.”

  I wasn’t ready to mention my own little fit.

  “All right.” Shelton spoke with reluctance. “I wasn’t going to say, but something strange happened to me yesterday.”

  We all waited.

  “My legs just gave out. I was showering, then I was lying on the tile and couldn’t move. I felt incredibly hot. Then, poof. I was normal again.”

  Oh boy. Shelton’s attack sounded similar to mine.

  “How have you felt since?” I asked.

  “Fine. Not sick in the slightest.”

  “That’s what happened to me!” Hi squawked. “I dropped like a rock, scorched up inside, then it all went away. But I’ve felt run down ever since.”

  “Ben?” I still wasn’t ready to share.

  “Nothing. Strong like bull.”

  Could be coincidence. Don’t start a panic.

  “It’s probably just the flu,” I said. “We were out in the rain all day.”

  Shelton and Hi nodded, but looked uneasy. That clinched it. I’d keep my own blackout secret for now.

  Ditto for Karsten’s accusations. No need to stir up pointless worry.

  Change the subject.