BLOODY BELL

by Jeremy Waldron

“I have the gene for Huntington’s Disease.” Allison’s small voice was flat, emotionless.

  I caught Susan’s and then Erin’s eye. The blood had drained from each of our faces. What little I knew about Huntington’s Disease meant that Allison had just been issued her death sentence.

  “Oh, c’mon guys,” Allison tried to cheer us up. “I haven’t died. I’m still here. I don’t even have symptoms.”

  Erin shared a smile with Susan before turning her gaze to Allison. We all forced smiles. I reached for Allison’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze. It was warm and inviting—her usual strength still there. “Yes, you are.”

  It didn’t take long for the flood of questions to begin. We learned that her mother had died of the disease years ago and that it was genetic. Allison had always known that she had a 50% chance of developing Huntington’s Disease but kept putting off the genetic test to tell her for sure. Her doctor had suggested the test after reviewing her family history and Allison agreed. Her symptoms that brought her to the hospital had nothing to do with this diagnosis.

  Now, with support from a genetic counselor, she was surprisingly upbeat about it all. But before we could get into how the doctors were going to treat Allison, she wanted to know what she had missed.

  “It feels like I’ve been in here for two weeks.” Allison laughed. She turned to Susan. “How was your night with Benjamin?”

  Susan stood and dragged the soles of her shoes to the opposite wall. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I shrugged, now sure something had happened.

  “Tell me a story, Sam.” Allison’s eyes glimmered. “Have you found that woman’s daughter yet?”

  Through the dizzying array of detail, I caught Allison up to speed. It was more complicated than we’d imagined. We told her about Campbell pushing me away from Kate Wilson’s crime scene, and Cameron’s mother hiding her alleged affair with Tyler. Allison couldn’t get enough, her facial expressions hitting the mark each and every time through the ups and downs of this rollercoaster.

  “Three different girls, all of them pregnant.” Allison’s gaze went distant as she internalized the story we were working.

  “Yeah.” My shoulders were suddenly heavy with the knot I was attempting to untangle.

  We considered who might only want the babies, but nothing we came up with fit the profile of the suspects. Allison wished she could help, and when I told her about wanting the police to triangulate Cameron’s cell phone, Allison said, “You know there is an easy way to do that.”

  “I was hoping you would say that.” I smiled. “But I want you to rest and get better so you can get out of here.”

  “Lucky for you,” she raised her chin, “you can do all this without my assistance.”

  I gave her a questioning look just before Allison told me about a legal way I could purchase the data to Cameron’s cell phone and track her last movements.

  “Do I even want to know what that would cost?”

  “Probably not.”

  I stood and began collecting our trash. Beneath a Chick-fil-A bag was a pamphlet for CRISPR gene therapy. “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Just something the doctor wanted me to read.”

  Allison spoke as if it was no big deal. Susan’s expression said otherwise and I was suddenly interested in knowing more. I read over the bullet points when Susan asked Allison, “Are you a candidate for genetic therapy?”

  “It may be my only option.” Allison grimaced and wagged her head. “Truthfully, it sounds too good to be true.”

  “No, you should definitely check this out.” Susan’s delivery was non-argumentative and completely optimistic. “The conference I attended,” she looked up at all of us, “that’s what it was all about. Biotech gene editing.”

  Erin stepped forward with a deep crease forming between her eyebrows. My toes were tingling with anticipation as I listened to Susan.

  “And what did you learn?” I asked.

  “I’ve seen this therapy in action. Through video, of course.” Susan went on, clearly believing its potential. “It’s incredible. I think you should give it some serious thought. It might be the answer to your problems.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  His chest rose and fell as he concentrated on the first cut.

  It had been years since the Guardian Angel had done this procedure himself. He’d been witness to it a couple dozen times since, and he hoped that his memory and attention to detail would be enough to guide him through the surgery he was about to begin.

  The baby was still breech and needed to be extracted. The clock was ticking. He didn’t have time to change into traditional scrubs. He’d washed his hands before snapping on a pair of latex gloves. He wore a mask and covered his eyes with protective glasses, but that was it. It was all he could manage—more concerned with saving the only thing that truly mattered to him; the baby.

  A line had been drawn horizontal across the lower quadrant of the patient’s womb to help guide his incision. The surgical tech had his tools laid out and ready. They shined beneath the bright flood lights, impressive in their arrangement.

  The Guardian Angel looked once more at the mother’s vitals before beginning his work. She was under anesthesia and her data was reading normally when suddenly there was a voice calling out to the doctor.

  “It’s confirmed, Sir. We’ve traced the number she called.”

  The Guardian Angel held his hands in the air and turned to face the nurse. “And?”

  “It was him.” The nurse’s bright eyes blinked. “She called the baby’s father.”

  “Very well.” The Guardian Angel thanked his assistant then turned to his patient. “You’ve been a bad girl,” he said to her. “But your mistake may very well be just what I needed.” He grinned beneath his surgical mask.

  Stepping to his right, he adjusted the light and reached for the scalpel. Hot blood coursed through his body, swishing in his ears as he lowered the blade to the woman’s stretched skin.

  “Are we ready?” His tech nodded. “Then let’s deliver this baby.”

  The skin opened and peeled back like a baked potato as the Guardian Angel made his first cut. The surgical tech dabbed the patient’s blood with gauze and placed the clamp inside, keeping access to the womb open.

  It didn’t take long to cut through the layers of fat, muscle, and tissue before the doctor was setting down his scalpel and reaching inside the mother’s womb, working the baby free.

  The room exploded with frantic activity as the doctor stepped back, feeling a shortness of breath consume him. The surgical tech’s focus turned to the mother as the Guardian Angel seemed to forget about everything else happening around him.

  His smile stretched wide with absolute joy as he held his baby girl for the very first time. He stared into the little girl’s scrunched face and laughed as he listened to her little cries crack the still air.

  “Incredible,” he said to himself.

  Pinching the umbilical cord between his fingers, he felt it still pulsing with life. The surgical tech worked to free the placenta from the mother’s womb and blood was everywhere. It was a miracle. There was nothing like it. And so much better than the way he had to bring little Mystery into this world. Everything was perfect. Her. Him. And the miracle he’d created.

  A flood of fast beeps broke his focus just as he cut the umbilical cord and moved little Miracle under the heat lamp.

  “Sir, she’s hemorrhaging,” the surgical tech said to the Guardian Angel as they tried to stop the bleeding.

  He rushed to the mother’s side, analyzed the data, and put his hand on the surgical tech’s arm. “No. Stop.”

  Confusion flashed behind the tech’s protective eye glasses. “We can save her.”

  The Guardian Angel shook his head. “Leave the room. I’ll take it from here.”

  The tech reluctantly backed away. The Guardian Angel watched as his assistant’s eyes bounced between the patient, the doctor, and the baby they h
ad just delivered.

  “It’s best we keep our work a secret,” the Guardian Angel said as the surgical tech left the room. As soon he was alone with the patient, the Guardian Angel spun around and began the IV drip.

  “We have what we wanted,” he whispered to himself. “Her job here is done.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Detective Alex King was behind his desk at the station early that morning. His eyes were bloodshot from having spent the last two hours scouring the internet for any leads to the online ad Tracey may have responded to. He’d searched places like Craigslist and Facebook but kept coming up with nothing.

  “It has to be somewhere,” he muttered to himself as he entered a new inquiry into the search bar. The paid ads populated and still nothing led him to what he was looking for. Frustration was building. He was beginning to lose hope.

  “I can’t take it anymore,” Alvarez grumbled from his desk. He had been doing the same as King and had finally lost patience himself. “I’m going to talk with the IT guys. Maybe they’ll have a better strategy than the one we have.”

  King blinked and cast his gaze to his fingers curled over the keys. He thought of what to type next when suddenly a woman tapped him on his shoulder.

  “The information you requested on Kate Wilson’s father.” Her voice was light but direct.

  King swiveled his chair around and stared at the printed sheet of paper. He pinched it between his fingers and turned back to his desk, thanking the professionally dressed woman for her assistance. The woman strode away and King immediately picked up the phone to dial the number written next to Matt Wilson’s name. After several rings, the line clicked over. “Matt Wilson, please.”

  “Who the hell is this?”

  “My name is Alex King. I’m a homicide detective with DPD.”

  “Homicide? Is this about Kate?” The man’s tone softened.

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions about your daughter. Is now a good time to speak with me?”

  “I wasn’t aware that Kate’s death was a homicide.”

  “At this time, it’s still being ruled as an accidental overdose.”

  “But you have your doubts?”

  “When was the last time you had contact with your daughter?” King continued.

  “Am I a suspect?”

  “No, Mr. Wilson. I’m just trying to piece together Kate’s pregnancy.”

  “What for?”

  “Please, Mr. Wilson, just answer my questions. You’d be doing a great service to Kate if you did.”

  Matt Wilson sighed a heavy breath that King could almost feel drift into his ear. “When she first learned she was pregnant, she came to me for help.”

  “What kind of help was she looking for?”

  “I hadn’t heard from or seen my daughter in years. Kate’s mother kicked me out of their lives long ago and did everything in her power to keep it that way. So you could imagine my surprise when Kate called me.”

  “How did you react to the news of her being pregnant?”

  “Are you kidding? I was angry and disappointed.”

  “Did you tell her that?”

  “I made myself clear. Kate could have been anything she wanted to be, I just didn’t want her to follow in the footsteps of her junky mother. But that’s exactly what happened.”

  King pressed the phone to his ear and scribbled notes as he talked.

  “You know, that’s who you should really be directing your questions to. Hell, you should pay Kate’s mother a visit, too. I’m sure that’s where Kate was getting her dope from.” A pause. “Just a fair warning if you do, despite what she might say about me, I’m not a man to hold grudges. I wanted Kate to move forward. Take responsibility for her actions. You know, own it.”

  “And what about her mother? Did she want Kate to take responsibility?”

  Mr. Wilson laughed. “God no. Kate’s mother wanted her to get an abortion and not tell a soul about it.”

  “Any idea why that may be?”

  “What you don’t understand about Kate’s mother is she believes a woman can only make her way in this world through sex and appeal. How do you think Kate got in this mess in the first place? She watched her mother whore around and squeeze her sugar daddies to pay her bills.”

  “Did you offer to help your daughter with any of the expenses?”

  “I work hard but I’m not a rich man, Detective. Neither is Kate’s mother. Kate didn’t have access to healthcare, and her financial future was rather bleak. We did what we could, but what I couldn’t offer in financial assistance I offered Kate in other ways.”

  King perked up and held the point of his pen above the paper. “Such as…”

  “Adoption.”

  “And what did your daughter ultimately decide?”

  “Kate wanted to keep the baby.”

  “You don’t sound happy about her decision. I thought you wanted her to own her decision.”

  “I did, but not the way Kate went about it.”

  King leaned back and felt his pulse tick hard in his neck. “Mr. Wilson, are you aware of your daughter ever responding to an online ad promising medical and financial assistance to help cover the costs of her pregnancy?”

  “If she did, I never heard about it. But what I can tell you is that Kate seemed to have found a doctor she really liked at the Mile High Health Clinic. I believe that was where she was going for regular checkups since they confirmed she was pregnant. If I’m not mistaken, he was also the one Kate said convinced her that adoption wasn’t an option.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  We all listened closely to what Susan had to say. She was busy explaining everything she’d learned at the biotech conference. She seemed to know more than Allison about the scientific breakthrough in CRISPR gene editing technology that promised to cure a variety of diseases, including Huntington’s Disease.

  I was blown away by what I was hearing—completely fascinated by everything scientists were capable of achieving. I had heard stories of this kind of science, but hadn’t realized it was already playing a role in modern medicine.

  “That’s what they are saying,” Allison agreed with Susan. “Genome editing is the best way to treat my disease.”

  Allison was a tech person herself, and I thought how perfect a fit this type of treatment was for her. We wanted what was best for her, and we’d do anything to get her back to living her life. But, as enthralling as it all was, I shared my own reservations. The technology was so new, there had to be risks associated with the treatment. And, if so, what were those risks and was it even worth it?

  “Give it some time,” Susan told Allison. “You don’t have to make this decision now.”

  Despite my hesitations, I could see the hope and optimism swirling in Allison’s chestnut eyes. “I knew you attended that conference for a reason,” Allison razzed Susan.

  “Benjamin isn’t fully on board.” Susan’s shoulders drooped. “In fact, we were almost given the chance to meet the leading scientist, and Benjamin wasn’t interested.”

  My head floated up like a balloon. “That’s why you’re refusing to tell us about him.”

  Susan was sitting on the edge of Allison’s bed when she twisted around to meet my eye. “We didn’t see eye to eye on the merits of what this scientist is doing, and Benjamin refused to speak any more about the technology until after he did some further research himself.”

  My brows pinched. “What had him hesitating?”

  “Something about it being morally wrong to change an embryo’s genes without the consent of the person they were doing it to.” Susan shrugged and turned back to Allison. “But you, darling, you do have the power to decide.”

  I caught Erin staring. Something told me we were swimming in the same pool of thought.

  “Can you repeat that?” Erin asked Susan.

  “Which part?”

  “About Benjamin’s moral objections.”

  Susan repeated herself. “It doesn’t matter
what he believes. The technology is already being applied to real life scenarios.” Susan went on to explain how the conference used a couple struggling to conceive as an example of the technology already making a positive contribution. “I mean, who wouldn’t elect to erase a potentially cancerous gene in your baby’s DNA if you could?”

  Erin’s eyes were back on mine and I felt my heart knocking harder against my chest. Wiping my sweaty palms on my thigh, the pressure in my head squeezed as my thoughts tumbled as loud as a shoe in a washing machine.

  Susan was talking to Allison about this being a miracle drug and how Allison needed to get her name added to the list ASAP. She would have to apply to be in a trial, and there was no time to waste. Without realizing it, I felt my lips flutter with the words, “the missing babies.”

  No one heard me, and I was thankful. I wasn’t sure I was ready to accept what I was thinking could actually be true. But a scientist would need embryos to test his research, and he would also need women to grow those embryos he was testing. This approach was far from legal, of course. And would a doctor go so far as to put women’s and babies’ lives at risk?

  A heat wave rolled up the center of my spine.

  I felt dizzy all of a sudden.

  Was I trying to fit a round peg in a square hole? Or was I actually onto something?

  When I heard Erin calling my name, I snapped out of my head and came back to the room. “Huh? What?”

  Erin tapped her wrist. “We don’t want to be late for our meeting.”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  No one seemed to notice how out of it I felt. Erin was hugging Allison goodbye when Allison asked her where we were running off to. I floated to the opposite side of Allison’s bed and listened to Erin explain the story she was working for her podcast. Allison locked eyes with me and said, “I’m jealous of how busy you two are.”

  I felt the corners of my eyes crinkle with a smile. “You’ll be back to work before you know it.” I kissed Ali on the cheek and hugged her goodbye, promising to call later.