Chapter One
Addison James sat back, stretching the kinks out of her back. She’d been at her workstation, deep in the confines of the Natural History Museum for hours, alternately staring into her microscope, or poring through the stacks of ancient manuscripts that littered her desk.
“Want some coffee?”
She turned toward the sound of his voice. Daniel Parrish was standing in the doorway of her office, holding a mug of coffee. He held it out to her, and she caught the aroma of his specialty Kona blend. Daniel was very possessive of his coffee, and she knew if he was offering her some from his private stash, she must look like she needed it.
“Thanks, Daniel.” She took the mug, closed her eyes, and took a long sip. It was hot and black, and absolutely what she needed.
“Any luck?” Daniel perched on a stool next to her, thumbing through an open textbook lying on her desk.
“I have a lead, but I’m at a dead end with what I can do here. Everything brings me back to Peru, to Cusco, and the jungle west of the Choquechaca area.” She rubbed her eyes. Everything she’d researched swirled in her mind, frustrating and ephemeral, the answer just out of reach.
“You need a break, Addison. How about we go for a late dinner. My treat.”
Addison looked at Daniel. He was as familiar to her as the tools she used to dissect ancient plants, as much of a feature in her office as her microscope.
“I can’t, Daniel. You know I can’t. I have work to do.” She looked back at her desk. Nestled between books and monographs was a photo of her and twin sister, Grace, taken by their mother just after they’d started primary school.
“What did the doctors say today?” The concern in his voice and in his soft gray eyes was evident, and it tugged at her heart. It would be so easy to let him hug her, to give her the emotional support she craved. But she pushed that aside. They’d had their affair, and as much as she wanted to give in, to go back wouldn’t do either of them any good.
“Grace is holding her own, for the moment. But whatever it is, it’s taking its toll on her, and they’re running out of medications to treat her. Mainly, they’re just trying to keep her comfortable.”
Grace had been feeling unwell for months, suffering a baffling array of symptoms, from joint pain to migraines, unexplained fevers, skin rashes, and muscle weakness. She’d been tested for lupus, Lyme disease, multiple sclerosis, and rheumatoid arthritis. But every test came back negative. And she’d only gotten worse.
She’d finally collapsed during rehearsal. Grace was the lead violinist with the New City Symphony, refusing to miss any rehearsals for the upcoming concert season, even though her fingers were so sore she could barely stand the pain. Addison was the only one who knew how bad it was, who heard every night as her sister cried in her sleep from the pain, as she struggled each day to muster the strength to play her violin.
“What have you found?” Daniel’s voice, the faint French accent, brought her back to the present. She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze.
It was a relief for Addison to turn back to her books, and her microscope. She was in her element when she was analyzing ancient plants, reading through antique texts of previous expeditions, researching new uses for those plants. And now the desperate search for a cure for her sister now fueled her efforts.
“There’s a species of orchid mentioned in several different publications, going all the way back to one of the Museum’s first expeditions to Peru, in the 1920s. It was already close to extinction, and Merriam brought back a specimen.”
“Merriam?” Daniel leaned over her shoulder, looking at the dusty book she’d pulled from the tottering stacks. “Don’t know that name.”
“He was the first Director of the Museum who took any interest in ethnobotany, Daniel. I can’t believe you don’t know that name.”
Daniel shrugged, in
Addison James sat back, stretching the kinks out of her back. She’d been at her workstation, deep in the confines of the Natural History Museum for hours, alternately staring into her microscope, or poring through the stacks of ancient manuscripts that littered her desk.
“Want some coffee?”
She turned toward the sound of his voice. Daniel Parrish was standing in the doorway of her office, holding a mug of coffee. He held it out to her, and she caught the aroma of his specialty Kona blend. Daniel was very possessive of his coffee, and she knew if he was offering her some from his private stash, she must look like she needed it.
“Thanks, Daniel.” She took the mug, closed her eyes, and took a long sip. It was hot and black, and absolutely what she needed.
“Any luck?” Daniel perched on a stool next to her, thumbing through an open textbook lying on her desk.
“I have a lead, but I’m at a dead end with what I can do here. Everything brings me back to Peru, to Cusco, and the jungle west of the Choquechaca area.” She rubbed her eyes. Everything she’d researched swirled in her mind, frustrating and ephemeral, the answer just out of reach.
“You need a break, Addison. How about we go for a late dinner. My treat.”
Addison looked at Daniel. He was as familiar to her as the tools she used to dissect ancient plants, as much of a feature in her office as her microscope.
“I can’t, Daniel. You know I can’t. I have work to do.” She looked back at her desk. Nestled between books and monographs was a photo of her and twin sister, Grace, taken by their mother just after they’d started primary school.
“What did the doctors say today?” The concern in his voice and in his soft gray eyes was evident, and it tugged at her heart. It would be so easy to let him hug her, to give her the emotional support she craved. But she pushed that aside. They’d had their affair, and as much as she wanted to give in, to go back wouldn’t do either of them any good.
“Grace is holding her own, for the moment. But whatever it is, it’s taking its toll on her, and they’re running out of medications to treat her. Mainly, they’re just trying to keep her comfortable.”
Grace had been feeling unwell for months, suffering a baffling array of symptoms, from joint pain to migraines, unexplained fevers, skin rashes, and muscle weakness. She’d been tested for lupus, Lyme disease, multiple sclerosis, and rheumatoid arthritis. But every test came back negative. And she’d only gotten worse.
She’d finally collapsed during rehearsal. Grace was the lead violinist with the New City Symphony, refusing to miss any rehearsals for the upcoming concert season, even though her fingers were so sore she could barely stand the pain. Addison was the only one who knew how bad it was, who heard every night as her sister cried in her sleep from the pain, as she struggled each day to muster the strength to play her violin.
“What have you found?” Daniel’s voice, the faint French accent, brought her back to the present. She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze.
It was a relief for Addison to turn back to her books, and her microscope. She was in her element when she was analyzing ancient plants, reading through antique texts of previous expeditions, researching new uses for those plants. And now the desperate search for a cure for her sister now fueled her efforts.
“There’s a species of orchid mentioned in several different publications, going all the way back to one of the Museum’s first expeditions to Peru, in the 1920s. It was already close to extinction, and Merriam brought back a specimen.”
“Merriam?” Daniel leaned over her shoulder, looking at the dusty book she’d pulled from the tottering stacks. “Don’t know that name.”
“He was the first Director of the Museum who took any interest in ethnobotany, Daniel. I can’t believe you don’t know that name.”
Daniel shrugged, in
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