what?”
“Today, we investigated a possible pathogen release in the subway. Tonight, you’re in the Cook County ER, standing over a patient who’s spitting up blood.”
Brazile shot a look down the hall. A couple of nurses were chatting in a drab smear of light, maybe fifty feet away.
“Afraid they’re going to hear me?”
“You need to get yourself under control, Mr. Kelly.”
“What does that mean?”
“The pathogen release was a false alarm. My presence here is completely unrelated to anything that went on in the subway.”
“Spitting up blood, red blotches, open sores. You must have a dozen monsters in your lab that can do that. You’re telling me there’s no connection?”
“I’m here because a colleague asked me to take a look at a patient. There are other things we do at CDA besides hunt for bioweapons. Many other things.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Really?”
“You’re right. What the hell do I know?”
Her face cleared, and I realized, not for the first time, how incredibly attractive Ellen Brazile could be.
“I guess I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I overreacted.”
“Been a long day.”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong with the kid? Nurse said it was internal bleeding.”
Brazile nodded. “It is, but not caused by any sort of physical injury. At least not anything we can see.”
“So?”
“Could be some sort of food poisoning. He lives in an area nearby that’s got a lot of toxins. Lead in the paint. Something in the water. Could be a lot of things.”
“You gonna run some tests?”
“I’ll take a look at his blood and see what’s what.”
Down the hallway, I caught a glimpse of Rodriguez ducking into a small room near an elevator.
“I gotta run,” I said and held out my hand. “Twice in one day. We have to stop meeting like this, Doctor.”
She glanced at the candy bar in my other fist. “Mind if I take you up on that bite?”
“This?” I held up the half-eaten Zagnut. “Listen, they don’t rotate the stock down here very much. If you know what I mean.”
“Old?”
“Older than me. And that’s saying something.”
She took a bite anyway, chewed, and forced a smile. “Not bad.”
“Now I know you’re lying.”
“Thanks for today, Michael.”
A part of my brain noticed the switch to my first name and liked it. The rest of me took it in stride.
“For what?” I said.
“The subway. I think I told you before. It had to be unnerving.”
“I got used to it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Anyway, I know I can be a little short sometimes. But thanks again.”
She handed me back the candy bar and turned to walk away.
“Hey.”
She stopped.
“You want to get coffee? Not tonight, but, you know, some time?”
She nodded slowly, picking up my invitation and then gently putting it back down. “I can’t.”
“That’s fine.”
She held up a hand and circled closer. “I’d like to. But I can’t.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m sort of … it’s bad timing.”
I wanted her to stop now. Wanted to find Rodriguez and get out of Dodge. Why did I get the goddamn candy bar, anyway?
“I see someone, too,” I said. “Well, not really. I see her, but she doesn’t see me. It’s complicated.”
She laughed, and that made everything a little better. “Always seems to be that way, doesn’t it?”
“Sometimes, yeah.”
“You have a card?”
I gave her the one with my home and business address. I wrote my cell number on the back. She slipped it into her pocket.
“I better get back. And thanks again.”
“Sure.”
She pushed through the doors and back into the ER. I was alone. Just me and the vending machines. I pulled the lever for a second Zagnut and put it in my pocket. Old, maybe, but they were still damn hard to find.
I wandered down the hallway in search of Rodriguez. I found him in the small room, holding the corner of a white sheet, staring down at a corpse.
“A friend?” I said.
“Not really.” Rodriguez let
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