The White Iris

by Susanne Matthews

  The satellite phone rang again. Had Julie forgotten to mention something?

  “Hello?”

  “Trevor, it’s Tom. I thought I’d check in before heading home. How’s the flight so far?”

  “I’ve flown plenty of times, but never like this. There’s room for six passengers—leather recliners, crystal glasses. Hell, they had a gourmet meal waiting for me in Toronto.”

  “Sounds nice. When I flew to Scotland last year, we were three to a row of seats designed for five-year-olds. Are you sure you’ll be okay without backup?”

  He snorted. “You and Jacob don’t think much of my abilities as a field agent, do you? Don’t worry. I’m not taking it personally. I know my limitations, and I’m not alone. The pilot and copilot are Guardians. One of them is a Rocky lookalike; the other’s just as big. Jacob’s provided me with untraceable communications equipment, too. When I get to Alaska, I’ll set it up and we can conference as needed. We’ll do a meet-and-greet and update tomorrow. It’ll be a four-way conversation—Cartwright at Homeland, you and Declan in Boston, and Lilith and Jacob in Nevada. They’ve got a suite at some swank Virginia Street casino hotel in Reno. When Susan and Micah arrive from Salt Lake City, they’ll join them.”

  “That must be a hell of a hotel room.”

  “I’m sure it is. What have you got for me?” he asked. Tom wouldn’t have called just to chat.

  “The press has been replaying your swan song all day. The mayor insisted McNamara move in over here. From now on, he’s to be in on all of our task force conferences.”

  “I’m okay with that. It gives credibility to my resignation. From what I’ve seen, McNamara’s a good man. Any word on the executions?”

  “Yup. That’s the main reason I called. Fingerprints have come back on all of them. The older one’s military—dishonorable discharge. The other two had juvie records as long as my arm. Amos also figured out how they failed. He thinks they’re the men responsible for the sorority massacre.”

  “Son of a bitch.” The only one he’d mentioned that to had been L.D. Hamilton.

  “It gets better,” Tom said before he could comment. “There was definitely scopolamine in their blood, as well as in Iris O’Connor’s.”

  “Have you got a lead on the fourth man?”

  “Yup. Found him, too.”

  “Where is he?”

  “In the morgue. Looks like he did a swan dive into the harbor at low tide. Broke his neck. Amos is checking him for drugs, too. He was just a kid, by the way, from the same town in Iowa as the other two. My guess is they were friends.”

  “Damn. Whoever’s cleaning up this time is doing a better job.”

  “Looks that way. I managed to get more on those vials of vaccine. The shipment originated at the research facility outside Reno. The man in charge is Dr. Dalton Rush. Since Lilith and Jacob are out there, I thought they could have a look.”

  Trevor frowned. He wasn’t big on coincidence, and suddenly, the case was like a row of dominoes tumbling neatly into a pattern.

  “Julie knows Dr. Rush. He’s been doing some work at the CDC. She’s supposed to collaborate on something with him in the spring. When I talked to her this morning, I mentioned that White Iris Pharmaceuticals had provided the vaccine that went to Seward, and she was surprised. It might just be my ulcer acting up, but I don’t like the way things are adding up here. My gut tells me we’re onto something, but don’t ask me what. Contact Cartwright and have him keep a close eye on anything in or out of either White Iris Pharmaceutical locations. In case we’re wrong, we don’t want to tip our hand and have whatever it is we’re looking for vanish. The substitution could’ve been made anywhere between the facility and its destination.”

  “I know, and we’re tracking things closely. Did you hear from Utah? McNamara figured out why the name Sunnybrook Farm was familiar—it’s a kid’s novel made into a Shirley Temple movie. Apparently, his mother has a collection of them. Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.”

  “Funny you should mention that. Susan and Micah checked in an hour ago. You’ll never guess who owns Sunnybrook Farm—L.D. Hamilton. The ranch is just outside of Salt Lake City, purchased about seventy-five years ago. It’s a thriving enterprise—why wouldn’t it be? Everything L.D. touches makes money. Apparently, it’s where the president’s man goes to escape the hustle and bustle of Washington.”

  “Christ, that bastard’s name seems to come up an awful lot lately, doesn’t it?”

  “It sure does, and here’s where things get interesting. Micah recognized two other stallions, but the man in charge of the stable insists his animals have never left the ranch. Someone’s lying, and I’m betting it isn’t Micah. He’s certain he’s been there before—not to the part of the ranch he and Susan visited this morning—but he recognized landmarks. It’s where he claims he saw Kelly Kirk. I’ve called in a favor from an old friend. He’s going to do a fly-over of the ranch and adjacent properties, photograph whatever he sees, and send it to you. Watch for a message from Anderson Crop Dusting. It should come in sometime tomorrow.”

  “Will do. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m okay. I spoke to Julie, and she’s got a viable lead. I can’t say more right now, but if it pans out, you’ll know soon. I’m heading into bad weather, so the flight might get rough. I’ll probably lose this signal, too.”

  “Not more snow,” Tom said.

  “Nope. I’ll check in tomorrow. Do me a favor; concentrate on L.D. Hamilton. I told him the men at the sorority house had screwed up. Either he’s the leak or someone working for him is.”

  “Will do. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Was it just wishful thinking that Hamilton was implicated in all this? He disliked the man, but too many things were turning up with his name on them. He might only be the Prophet’s latest scapegoat, another red herring to throw them off the real trail, but one way or another, Trevor would know everything there was to know about the man and his affairs before this was over.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two and a half hours later, Trevor stepped off the private jet into one of the worst storms he’d ever seen. Thunder rumbled, and lightning lit up the sky in the distance, bringing mountains to view for mere seconds. Thankfully, the storm had moved off enough to allow the small jet to land. It was cold, not as cold as it had been in Boston lately, but the rain was coming down hard. He hoped it wouldn’t turn to snow. As Julie had warned, the last couple of hours had made for a bumpy ride, but the landing had been a smooth one. Covering the bundle in his arms with his coat, he hurried across the tarmac to Miles and the waiting SUV.

  “Wow,” Miles said, reaching for his bag. “I’m not sure I’d have recognized you. Julie’s waiting for you at the lab. Is that your daughter?”

  Trevor smiled. The last thing he expected after taking off from Montreal was to play proud papa to a mini-cushion. “It is, and she’s as light as a feather,” he answered, loudly enough to be heard. “I can’t wait to see her mama again.”

  One of the men nearby laughed. “Always good to see the wife when you’ve been gone awhile.”

  “It sure is.” He was about to get in the car when Miles stopped him.

  “I’ll put your bag in the back, then I’ll fasten her into the car seat for you,” he said and winked. “I’ve had more practice. My men will help yours unload the gear and take it to the house. The pilot radioed he had cargo.”

  “It’s communication gear and computer equipment,” Trevor said quietly. “Essentially untraceable, according to my provider.” He handed over his bundle and got into the vehicle. Miles pretended to tie the baby into the car seat and then got in behind the wheel.

  “It’s all about appearances. You’ve either made some rich friends since we last met,” Miles said, pointing to the plane, “or the FBI got a huge budget boost. Nice to see you again, although this isn’t the way I’d expected it to be. So, how long did it take to grow the scruff?”

  “Two days. I know it’s not muc
h, but…”

  “No, it’s fine. Sometimes less is more. Dressed casually like you are, you don’t look like the dapper agent I saw on television. I suggest you let the beard grow a bit more—the hair, too. Love the cowlick, by the way. Right in front like that…”

  “The bane of my existence, and the reason I’ve kept it short. It was the classic joke—the cattle rancher’s son with a cowlick. How’s she doing?”

  “I left the lab to come here. She’s exhausted, but the lady’s on a mission. Cassie was explaining some of the technical stuff to me, but it’s way above my pay grade. The only thing I understood was that Hope could be the key to stopping this bug.”

  “Hope?”

  “The kid. That’s what Julie named her. We’re here,” he said pulling into a covered parking area. “Let me grab the ‘baby,’ and we’ll go in get our ‘wives.’ Mine needs her sleep—she’s pregnant by the way—and we need to collect Ariel from the neighbors, although getting her to bed if she sees the baby may not be so easy. Plus, I have a trunkful of diapers and formula to unload.”

  “Are they sure it’s safe to take the baby to your place?” Trevor asked.

  “They’ve made sure she’s virus-free, if that’s what you mean. As far as physically safe, I can’t see why not. No one who might be looking for her knows she’s alive, let alone here. This is a restricted Coast Guard base. No one comes in without special clearance. Luke greased the way for you.” Miles got the bundle of pillows from the backseat and handed it to Trevor. “I’ll unload your bag when we get to the house. Let’s get the briefing over with. The sooner I get Cassie home, the better I’ll like it.”

  Carrying the pillow close to his chest as he’d done when he’d left the plane, Trevor followed Miles into the deserted hospital, both excited and anxious about seeing Julie again. Could they really pull this off?

  Miles used a swipe card to open the door of the last elevator.

  “Is this necessary? There’s no one around,” Trevor asked, indicating the blanket-covered pillow.

  “Smile,” Miles said softly. “You’re on Candid Camera.”

  Damn. Maybe Tom and Jacob are right to worry about me. That’s a rookie mistake.

  He bounced the pillows as if they were a fussing baby and followed Miles into the elevator.

  “Cassie, Luke, and Julie are waiting for us in the morgue,” he said once the doors closed. “You can relax now; the pillows are just pillows again.”

  That may be true, but will I be the same man after this?

  The elevator doors opened and Miles led the way down the deserted hall. Cassie, heavily pregnant, opened the office door. Miles reached for his wife and kissed her.

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m good. Luke has me sitting here watching television. And before you ask, I ate. We had food delivered from the cafeteria. Hi, Trevor. I like the new look. Welcome to Alaska.”

  “Thanks, Cassie, and congratulations.”

  “It was a surprise, but a happy one. Julie’s just changing. She finished putting up the last of her cultures a few minutes ago. This is Luke Franklin. He’s the chief medical officer here at ISC Kodiak.”

  Trevor held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he said, appraising the man as he did. Was he Julie’s type? Did she even have a type—not that it was any of his business.

  “And you. Julie’s told me a lot about you. I trust the trip wasn’t too grueling. I understand you traveled in a private plane.”

  “Yeah—a Citation Excel. It belongs to a friend of mine. Very comfortable. I didn’t sleep much, though.”

  “Nice plane. I’ve seen a couple, but never flown in one. Welcome to the base. Right now, my team and I are the only ones who know exactly what’s at Chinook Cove and about the baby. My men have been ordered to keep her origin secret, and you can count on their discretion. I left three there to secure the site. I’ve dispatched a cutter to the location. It should leave as soon as the storm lets up. I’ll leave at first light to fly back in the chopper to check the village inland and see if this has been contained in the fishing camp or has spread. You’re welcome to come with me if you like. I saw you on CNN; I wouldn’t mind knowing more about what I’m up against. Now, come meet the reason for all this Mata Hari business.”

  Cassie reached into the incubator and lifted out the tiniest baby Trevor had ever seen. She had a full head of dark brown hair and pale skin, but her cheeks were rosy.

  “She’s beautiful,” he said. The baby opened her eyes—gray, almost blue, the last color he’d have expected—and looked right into his soul. His heart went out to her in a surge of unexpected protectiveness. No wonder Julie was ready to do anything, including pretending to be his wife, to save the child. He’d just seen her, and he’d walk barefoot over coals to safeguard her if he had to.

  “Do you want to hold her? She’s virus-free, freshly diapered, and good to go.”

  Trevor held out his arms, and Cassie placed the child in them. For the first time in years, he felt whole.

  “You’re a natural,” Miles said. “I keep telling Cassie men have as many parenting instincts as women, but…”

  He was still talking, but Trevor didn’t hear him. His eyes were on the door that had opened, on the curly-haired woman who’d just walked into the room. She stopped, unable to hide the surprise on her face.

  “Trevor,” she exclaimed. “You’re here. I see you’ve met Hope.”

  “She’s gorgeous,” he said, tamping down the longing to pull Julie into his arms, too, a yearning no doubt intensified by the child he held.

  Julie looked away, and Trevor bit back his disappointment. This, being a family, was just an act—one for public consumption. He needed to remember that.

  “I delivered him as instructed,” Miles said into the sudden awkward silence. “He played his role well. A couple of my men are unloading the gear from the plane. The pilot and copilot are big guys, so if you need more security or babysitters, I have a feeling they’ve done it before.”

  Trevor shrugged, recovering his aplomb. He had a job to do.

  “My men thought I’d need backup even if I didn’t agree. They work for the Guardians, a private security company one of my agents feels can be trusted. They’ll sleep wherever you can put them up—you only need one room for them since one will always be on duty while the other sleeps. The plane is staying here in case we need to leave quickly—we don’t know where the Prophet will strike next.”

  Julie reached for the child. Reluctantly, he placed her in Julie’s arms.

  “She’s so little,” he said, looking down at them, his heart swelling. “Nick’s sons were big bruisers compared to her.”

  Julie’s smile transformed her face, erasing the tiredness he’d seen there moments earlier. “As I recall, you never saw them this young, but she is tiny. How was the flight?”

  “Good. Very comfortable, but I’m glad I don’t have to repeat it tomorrow. Owens and Stack shared the job. They left Honolulu at 5:00 a.m. their time, flew to Reno, and then to Toronto and back here. They’ve got to be tired, but Owens is on call tonight. They’re already at the house unloading the communication gear Jacob sent. We may not be in Boston or Reno, but we’ll know whatever they do.”

  “Reno?” Julie asked. “Why there?”

  “I’ll explain at the house. When can we go?”

  “Anytime,” Julie said, placing Hope back in the incubator. “I’ve taken samples from Mr. X and Maggie, and I’ve set up cultures. All I can do is hope I see something growing in the morning.”

  “What about cause of death?” Luke asked.

  “Massive cytokine storm for both, but the virus has already started to break down in Mr. X. I estimate he’s been dead twenty-four to thirty-six hours. He should be out of rigor by morning.”

  Luke whistled. “And the virus is degrading that fast?

  “It is. I’m trusting the stuff I got from the spinal tap will tell me more. Right now, I’m beat.”

  “The
n let’s get out of here,” Miles said.

  Julie dropped the cloth over the incubator and unplugged it, sending it back onto the battery.

  “I thought you said she wasn’t sick,” Trevor said.

  “She isn’t, but this will keep her warm. She doesn’t have a lot of clothes. Cassie went up and raided maternity for a couple of things. We’ll get warmer stuff tomorrow.”

  “Of course, I should’ve realized that.” He reached for the blanket he’d taken from the plane. At Julie’s inquisitive look, he smiled. “In case she gets cold when we have to take her out and feed her.”

  Cassie chuckled. “Spoken like a true father.” She turned to Miles. “Take us home.”

  Before Miles could answer, the commander’s phone rang. He scowled at the screen. “Hang on a minute. I have to take this.” He stepped away to the far side of the room.

  Trevor studied Julie as she checked to make sure she had everything she and Hope needed, and reached for a familiar waterproof jacket. He’d bought that for her the first time they’d gone camping. He’d seen her only a week ago, and yet she looked different. The dark circles under her eyes spoke to her fatigue, but her short, copper curls fascinated him. They suited her, making her look more playful, less reserved and stand-offish than did the ponytail or chignon she usually wore. The color was brighter, too, and matched her nail polish.

  “I see you finally made a decision about cutting your hair. How many lists did it take?”

  “None,” she said and shrugged. “I let Cassie make the decision.”

  Luke came back to the table.

  “I have good news and bad news,” he said. “Well, to be honest, it’s actually bad news and worse news.”

  “What?” Julie said, reaching out to touch his arm.

  A twinge of jealousy speared Trevor. Julie said they’d worked closely together. How closely? Was Luke the man she’d “dated” earlier in the day?

  “The hospital in Fairbanks confirmed Maggie had a flu shot the day she left, but no one else has shown any sign of being sick. The hospital will follow up with everyone tomorrow. As well, the doctor at the flu clinic in Nome—the one that received its vaccine from the same place as the one in Seward—confirmed one of the men we found on the boat was inoculated six days ago. Twelve people were vaccinated. None of the others are sick. The man was Joe Asangis, Maggie’s father.” He paused. “You wanted to know how they could be sure he’d go to the fishing camp. He went to see his grandchild.”