flying fast and furious on both sides.
In the end she’d opted to keep her secret to herself. Telling him would have changed nothing, not when she’d already decided to leave.
Work was still her number-one priority. Still her lifeline. And she needed to get her mind back on what she was doing.
Tracy took the long cotton swab and dipped it into another of her sample jars, laying a thin coating of the material on a second glass slide, heat-setting it, like she’d done with the first. “Do you need me to apply a stain?”
“Let’s see what we’ve got on these first.”
“There were pigs in a corral at one of the victims’ homes. Could it be leptospirosis?”
“Possibly.” He switched on the microscope’s light. “If I can’t find anything on the slides, we’ll need to do some cultures. Lepto will show up there.”
He didn’t say it, but they both knew cultures would take several days, if not longer, to grow.
Tracy sent a nervous glance towards the reception area, where the guard lounged in a white plastic chair in full view. He twirled what looked like a toothpick between his thumb and forefinger. For the moment his attention wasn’t focused on them. And he was far enough away that he shouldn’t be able to hear soft voices through the glass partition.
“That could be a problem.”
Ben turned toward her, watchful eyes moving over her face. “How so?”
“I told the military police you’d have an answer for them today.”
“You did what?” His hand clenched on the edge of the table. “Of all the irresponsible—”
“I know, I know. I didn’t have a choice. It was either that or leave São João dos Rios empty-handed.”
He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking at her again. “You’re still hauling around that savior complex, aren’t you, Tracy? Don’t you get tired of being the one who swoops in to save the day?”
“I thought that was your role. Taking charge even when it’s not your decision to make.” She tossed her head. “Maybe if you’d stopped thinking about yourself for once …” As soon as the ugly words spurted out she gritted her teeth, staunching the flow. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“Yes. It was.” He took the slide from her and set it down with an audible crack.
The guard was on his feet in an instant, his casual manner gone. “O que foi?”
Ben held up the slide. “Sorry. Just dropped it.” Although he said the words loudly enough for the guard to hear them, he kept his tone calm and even. Even so, the tension in his white-knuckled grip was unmistakable.
The guard rolled his eyes, his face relaxing. “I’m going to the cafeteria. Do you want something?”
How exactly did the man expect to get the food past the sealed doorway? Besides, she wouldn’t be able to eat if her life depended on it. “I’m good. Thanks.”
“Same here,” said Ben.
The guard shrugged and then checked the front door. He palmed the old-fashioned key he found in the lock before reinserting it again, this time on the outside of the door.
He meant to lock them in!
“No, wait!” Tracy stood, not exactly sure how she could stop him.
“Sorry, but I have my orders. Neither of you leaves until those samples are destroyed.”
She started to argue further, but Ben touched her shoulder. “Don’t,” he said in a low voice.
Holding her tongue, she watched helplessly as the door swung shut, a menacing snick of the lock telling her the guard had indeed imprisoned them inside the room. A familiar sting of panic went up her spine. “What if he doesn’t come back? What if we’re trapped?”
Stripping off one of his gloves, he reached into his pocket. “I have a spare. I know you don’t like being confined.”
Sagging in relief, she managed a shaky laugh. “You learned that the hard way, didn’t you?”
The vivid image of Ben playfully pinning her hands above her head while they’d tussled on the bed sprang to her mind. The love play had been fun. At first. Then a wave of terror had washed over her unexpectedly, and though she’d known her panic had been illogical, she’d begun to struggle in earnest.
A frightened plea had caught in her throat, and as hard as she’d tried to say something, her voice had seemed as frozen as her senses. Ben had only realized she was no longer playing when she succeeded in freeing one of her hands and raked her nails down his face. He’d reeled backwards, while she’d lain there, her chest heaving, tears of relief spilling from her eyes. Understanding had dawned on his face and he’d gathered her into his arms, murmuring how sorry he was. From that moment forward he’d been careful to avoid anything that might make her feel trapped.
A little too careful.
His lovemaking had become less intense and more controlled. Only it had been a different kind of control than what they’d previously enjoyed, when Ben’s take-charge demeanor in the bedroom had been a huge turn-on. That had all changed. Tracy had mourned the loss of passion, even as she’d appreciated his reasons for keeping a little more space between them. Her inability to explain where the line between confinement and intimacy lay had driven the first wedge between them.
That wedge had widened later, when he’d tried to limit her movements during her pregnancy, giving rise to the same sensation of being suffocated. She’d clawed at him just as hard then, the marks invisible but causing just as much damage to their marriage.
The Ben of the present fingered the side of his face and gave her a smile. “No permanent damage done.”
Yeah, there had been. And it seemed that one patch of bad luck had spiraled into another.
“I always felt terrible about that,” she said.
“I should have realized you were scared.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
Even her father hadn’t realized their play sessions could change without warning. There’d always been laughter, but the sound of hers had often turned shrill with overtones of panic. A gentle soul, her father would have never hurt her in a million years. It didn’t help that her older sister had been a tough-as-nails tomboy who’d feared nothing and had given as good as she’d got. Then Tracy had come along—always fearful, always more cautious. Her father had never quite known what to do with her.
She was still fearful. Still flinched away from situations that made her feel trapped and out of control.
And now her mom and her sister were both gone. Her mom, the victim of a menacing villain who’d stalked its prey relentlessly—turning the delicate strands of a person’s DNA into the enemy. Passed from mother to daughter. Tracy had been running from its specter ever since.
Ben
