Holding out my hand, I stepped forward. “I’m Dr. Meghan Forester. I’m a bit early, but I’m supposed to meet Rob Hansen this afternoon. I’m on the evening news show tonight.”
The receptionist’s eyes turned to saucers as she shook my hand.
“Yes, of course, Dr. Forester. Forgive me for not recognizing you right away. We’re so pleased to have you join us. I’m so sorry I didn’t attend to you immediately. Would you like a drink? Or may I take your coat?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s fine.”
The receptionist stood and smoothed her skirt. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun. A clean, yet old business suit adorned her frame. I imagined it had been manufactured before the First Wave. However, it was in pristine condition, and from her groomed manner, she appeared to take care of her things.
Smiling politely, she said, “My name is Ms. Parkinson. I’ll be happy to help you in any way I can. Now, if you’ll follow me.”
She handed me a pass to wear around my neck and then turned on her heel, gesturing to the airy, black-tiled walkway behind the receptionist area. “I’ll show you to the room we have ready for you. You can make yourself comfortable there until the segment tonight, or you can leave and return later. That pass,” she waved at what I wore, “gives you access within the building. Just make sure you’re in your room by 3:30 p.m. Rob will stop by then.”
We followed her around the curved desk and down the expansive hall to a set of stairs. Glass railings ran alongside the steel-beamed floating slabs. I gripped the railing tightly. The stairs gave the feeling that we were ascending on air.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “Will I be given the list of questions I’ll be asked on the show tonight?”
The receptionist glanced over her shoulder just long enough to make eye contact. “Rob will be able to answer that for you. I’m afraid I don’t have those details.”
We reached the second floor. To our left ran another glass railing that opened to the main floor below. The sound of trickling water reached my ears. A fountain sat in the corner on the far end. It suddenly struck me that the entire building was eerily quiet. I also didn’t see anyone else around.
“And if questions are asked that Meghan doesn’t want to answer, how will that be handled?” Davin’s deep voice held an edge to it. His hand rested on my lower back as we walked down another hall.
“Dr. Forester may refuse to answer any questions she’s not comfortable with. We’re extremely pleased that she agreed to our interview during this tumultuous time.”
Or stupid enough. I imagined they’d grill me like no other. While I’d grown used to questions from fearful crowds, being one-on-one with a skilled journalist was another matter entirely.
I gripped my purse strap and pushed that worry aside. “Of course, I hope to set the record straight once and for all about poor Zoe Mathison. The virus didn’t kill her.”
The receptionist merely nodded.
Our footsteps turned mute when we rounded a corner and the tiles fell behind. Carpet lined this corridor.
We followed the receptionist through a set of double doors to a large studio. My eyes widened as the set for the ANN evening show appeared. Unlike the vacant hallways, this room was bustling with activity.
About a dozen behind-the-scenes workers were fiddling with cameras or sitting in front of multiple TV screens. All of them wore headsets. A few glanced up when we walked by and nodded in my direction. The MRI had done well at making my face easily recognized.
“We have you in guestroom B.” Ms. Parkinson’s heels tapped on the hard floor as we traveled through the room. “If you need anything between now and the show tonight, simply press the black button by the door and someone will attend to you.”
After hopping over electrical cords and smiling at people we passed, Ms. Parkinson led us into another short hallway before stopping at the second door. The letter “B” was stenciled on it.
She opened the door with a flourish. “I hope this will do.”
Inside were two couches, a small table sporting beverages and refreshments, and a large window that overlooked the snowy parking lot below. I felt certain it was a far cry from the suites the large networks had once furnished. Regardless, the room appeared clean, comfortable, and was more than I expected.
“Thank you, this is very nice.” I dropped my purse on the couch and gripped my shaky hands together.
All of a sudden, it felt like a dozen butterflies flapped around in my stomach as icy cold sweat erupted on my brow. In a few hours, I’d be on national TV. Deep breaths, Meghan.
Davin stepped closer. His subtle scent of soap and aftershave drifted toward me. Circling his arm protectively around my shoulders, he pulled me to his side.
“Thank you very much, Ms. Parkinson. We’ll be sure to push that button if we need anything.” Davin’s tone left no question that he wanted us left alone.
The receptionist nodded and discreetly closed the door behind her on her way out.
When it was just Davin and me, I sagged onto the sofa and dropped my head in my hands.
Davin kneeled down. “Meghan, look at me.”
Liquid sapphire irises blazed into mine. “You’re an experienced speaker, a gifted scientist, and the founder of the vaccine. Never forget who you are or all that you’ve accomplished.”
I straightened and took a deep breath.
Hot palms closed over mine. Since his hands were so warm, that meant mine were ice. “You can do this. I know you can.”
“Thank you for being here.” His unwavering faith in me made my anxiety melt away like icicles in the springtime sun. Already, my hands felt warmer.
He squeezed. “Always. Although, it’s a good thing nobody knows me here.” He winked which got a chuckle out of me.
He shifted to sit beside me and place his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll stay as long as you want. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“In all honesty, it’ll probably be best if Rob doesn’t see you. I don’t want him asking questions about who you are. Now that I’m settled, and I don’t feel like I’m going to freak out, do you want to go check us in to the hotel?”
“I can do that.” He leaned closer and pressed his lips against mine.
I closed my eyes and instinctively tangled my fingers through his hair. It was silky soft and thick. Curling a few locks between my fingers, I pulled him closer. Only a small twinge from my injury followed.
He growled and deepened the kiss. He tasted as sweet as honey.
Despite our circumstances, desire flowed through my veins. For a moment, I let myself become lost in the kiss. The world around us disappeared. The feel of his hard chest pressed against mine made me ache on so many levels.
By the time he pulled back, his breathing was ragged. “Damn, woman. You’re going to be the death of me.”
I trailed my fingers across his chest. “Text me when you get to the hotel?”
He nodded and with one last peck on my mouth, whispered goodbye before leaving the room. A breeze from the door opening and closing rustled the tablecloth on the refreshment buffet.
Leaning back on the couch, I tried to distract myself with potential questions I’d be asked. Since it was only midafternoon, I still had several hours until the evening program. Ignoring the urge to stand and pace, I crossed my legs and pulled out my cell phone to call Cate.
She answered readily. I knew that meant her meetings were either over or she was in between them. “Meghan, how are you? Are you in Des Moines?”
“Yes, I arrived about twenty minutes ago. I’m currently in a guestroom in the ANN building. Rob Hansen should be arriving shortly to discuss our interview. How’s everything in Chicago?”
“Well . . . it’s been interesting. I met with Zoe’s mother, but her father is nowhere to be found. Mrs. Mathison was upset and hard to console, but after I explained the importance of discovering what killed her daughter, she agreed to the autopsy.”
I breathed a sigh
of relief. “So you never had to force it upon her. I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Exactly. She still believes that we would never have conducted it without her consent, and I’m happy to let her continue that belief.”
I leaned forward as people walked by in the hall outside. Muffled voices came and then disappeared. Obviously, not Rob Hansen.
“So where’s Zoe’s father?” I asked.
Cate made a noncommittal noise. “No one knows. He was last seen yesterday evening. Even his wife doesn’t know where he’s gone. It’s possible he’s disappeared to avoid the public eye. It wouldn’t be the first time a parent needed to distance themselves from a child’s death.”
Since I’d never lost a child, I couldn’t relate, but I’d certainly witnessed enough families torn apart by death.
“Should we be worried that he’s disappeared?” I asked.
“His wife said he did something similar during The First Wave after his brother died. He came back after a few days, so right now, I don’t think there’s cause for concern.”
We spoke for a few more minutes as Cate filled me in on her agenda. I also told her about my plans to join Division 5 next week.
“That’s excellent! They’ll need you.” Cate sounded as excited as I felt.
We hung up a few minutes later just as a text from Davin buzzed on my phone.
At the hotel and checked in. How’s it going?
I tapped in a quick reply.
Fine so far. Just got off the phone with Cate. They began the autopsy in Chicago.
That’s great news. Let’s hope for some answers soon.
Exactly. I’ll call you when I’m done here. Love you.
Love you too. x
My heart flipped at those three little words. I slid my phone back in my purse. As I was zippering it closed a knock sounded on the door.
Before I could reply, Rob Hansen strode in. A whiff of cologne came too.
He held out his hand and grinned. “Dr. Meghan Forester, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
I hastily stood and grasped his large palm. He was even bigger in person. “Thank you. I’m glad to be here.”
Rob pumped my hand. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt.
With a smooth complexion, sandy blond hair, warm brown eyes, and the all-American look, I could see why he’d risen in the ranks at ANN. Natural charisma practically oozed from him.
“Our receptionist told me that you’d like to know the questions I’ll be asking you tonight.” He waved toward the sofa. “Should we sit?”
Smoothing my pants, I sat back down.
He joined me, the cushion sinking beneath him. Looking around the room, he raised his eyebrows. “I hear that someone accompanied you here. Did he leave?”
I should have known that Davin’s presence wouldn’t go unnoticed. “Yes, he left to check into the hotel. It’s just me now.”
“A friend of yours?”
“Yeah. A friend.” From Rob’s expression, I knew he wanted to ask further questions, so I jumped in. “Can you tell me what I’ll be asked tonight?”
He interlocked his fingers. “Tonight, I’d like our interview to be more like a discussion than a question-answer session. We’ll review the virus, and the vaccine that you and the other scientists created. I’d then like to delve into Zoe Mathison, who she was, what happened to her, and why people believe the virus killed her.”
I flinched. “The virus didn’t kill her.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Whatever the truth may be, the public wants to know more about her exposure. I’d like to touch on that subject.”
“Of course.” I couldn’t blame him. It was why I was here after all.
“The network’s given us sixty minutes for this segment. If we don’t need it all, we can fill in gaps with commercial breaks.” Shifting closer, he smiled warmly. “The best thing you can do is stay relaxed and be yourself. Just think of me as an old friend that you’re having coffee with, and I’ll do my best to make you comfortable.”
I nodded and forced a tight smile. Staying relaxed and acting natural were not my strong points, but this wouldn’t be the first time I’d done something out of my comfort zone. I can do this!
We spoke for a few more minutes before he stood to leave. It was only when the door closed behind him that I realized he never provided me with a list of concrete questions.
For a moment, I debated pushing the black button but then decided against it. Rob seemed friendly and engaging. I would follow his lead and try to take his advice. Relax. Get comfortable. Try to think of him as an old friend.
Here goes nothing.
WHEN IT WAS time for me to join Rob on the evening show, a young woman came to my room to lead me out. I felt a bit like a doll following her. Hair and makeup had just visited. Consequently, my face felt like caked plastic. They’d applied so much concealer and powder, yet I had to admit they’d done a good job.
My skin looked flawless, while my eyes popped with the shadow and eyeliner they’d applied, and my lips were a dark berry red.
It’s too bad Davin didn’t stay. He probably wouldn’t recognize me.
Using that thought to distract myself, I tried to ignore my fluttering stomach as we entered the studio. Two chairs sat on a raised section to the left of the main desk. Rob already sat on one as several workers fluttered around, powdering his nose and going through last minute notes with him.
When he saw me, he stood and pulled off the white paper from around his neck. “Dr. Forester. You look fantastic. How are you feeling?”
His warm hand closed over mine as he gestured to the vacant chair.
“I’m fine, Rob, thank you.” My voice was steady and even. Pushing my remaining insecurity away, I sat down and smoothed my pants.
“We’re starting in three minutes.” One of the workers fumbled with her headset while checking her watch.
“Now, remember. Just relax and be yourself. You’ll be fine.” Rob grinned again and brushed off the remaining workers around him.
I folded my hands in my lap and took another deep breath. The chair shifted beneath me as I fidgeted. Just relax, Meghan. It’s just another interview.
Three minutes passed as if it were seconds.
“And we’re on in . . . three . . . two . . . one!”
The cameraman pointed at Rob as the light on his camera flashed red. Bright lights above filled the stage as Rob turned, a grin plastered on his face.
“Good evening, America and welcome to America News Nightly Show. I’m Rob Hansen.” He angled his body to face a different camera. “Tonight I bring you an exclusive edition to our nightly show, featuring someone we’ve all come to know and trust during the previous months. Dr. Meghan Forester, renowned scientist and founder of the Makanza vaccine has joined us to discuss the tragic death of Zoe Mathison and what this unforeseen event means for our country.”
Rob turned his somber expression toward me. “Welcome, Dr. Forester. We’re so pleased to have you here to discuss these events during this tumultuous time.”
I nodded tightly as sweat erupted on my brow under the harsh lights. “Thank you. It’s my pleasure to be here.”
Rob clasped his hands and leaned forward. “To start with, tell me more about the vaccine. How was it created, and why is the MRI so convinced it’s 100% effective?”
My heart rate slowed at the familiar territory we approached. “As you probably know, the vaccine was developed after years of exhaustive research conducted by thousands of MRI scientists. Once we unlocked the secrets of Makanza’s genome, we were able to formulate a vaccine using standard methods. Numerous trials were undertaken to assure its safety and effectiveness. And as you probably know, I along with hundreds of other MRI scientists, exposed ourselves to the virus long before the public was vaccinated. Our trust in the vaccine hasn’t altered. I feel confident saying that Zoe’s death was not linked to Makanza.”
Rob nodded, his expression contemplative. “But doctors have
confirmed that Zoe was exposed to Makanza. How can you be so sure the virus didn’t contribute to her death in some way?”
I frowned, debating how to word my answer. It was possible Zoe’s immune system had been slightly compromised after being exposed to the virus. However, it wouldn’t explain her death.
“Every drug trial we conducted assured us the vaccine is effective. Right now, we’re working to determine the real cause of Zoe’s death, and I’m sure once we do, the American public will see that the virus wasn’t a contributing factor.”
“That’s interesting that you say that.” Rob leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands. “Those who opposed the Kazzies being released say many Americans have fallen ill since being exposed, not just Zoe. Some even say that Zoe’s death is the first of many, and that we should confine the Kazzies again before mass casualties ensue. What is your response to that?”
I bristled and sat up straighter. “While a mild flu-like response is to be expected after being exposed, the rest of those accusations are false. They’re nothing more than vicious rumors from people with specific agendas that do not have the public’s best interest at heart. I’d rather not fuel those inaccuracies by discussing them tonight.”
His contemplative expression didn’t waver as he asked me more questions about the vaccine. He grilled me on the drug trials and made me explain several times why the vaccine was so effective. And while I felt that he was genuinely interested in hearing about the vaccine’s creation, I also had the subtle feeling that he was looking for a weak point. As if he wanted me to stumble and admit that we hadn’t been as diligent as we’d claimed.
“I can assure you that every safety measure was considered during the vaccine’s creation and the public’s inoculation. We’re all safe—I can promise you that.”
Rob shifted in his seat and frowned. Just as he did, an ANN worker dressed entirely in black rushed onto the stage and placed another chair at my side. The worker was there and then gone, like a shadow in the night.
I eyed the empty chair and turned to Rob, my eyebrow arching in question.
But instead of telling me what was going on, Rob merely smiled wanly. “As much as I respect the work you’ve done for the MRI, I have to honor the public’s wish to hear both sides of the story. That’s why I’m now welcoming a new guest to the stage. Senator Douglas of Arkansas, please join us.”
The Complete Makanza Series: Books 0-4 Page 98
