We need results as quickly as possible.”
“How’s Melanie?” Grace asked. Drew’s wife, Dr. Melanie Harding-Connell, a veterinarian, had introduced Grace to Alpha Force. She was pregnant with the couple’s first baby. She wasn’t a shifter, but Drew was.
“Getting along fine,” Drew said. “She’s due within the next few weeks.”
“Our best to all of you,” Grace said, and hung up. She’d be interested in learning all about the baby’s arrival in this sort-of mixed marriage.
A short while later, Grace walked with Kristine to the medical center. They’d left both dogs in Grace’s apartment to keep each other company, since there would be no therapy visits today. Neither would Kristine snoop about the hospital grounds. They’d both just perform the jobs that were their covers, as would Autumn and Ruby.
Grace was glad that this assignment made use of her background as a doctor. Alpha Force was, not surprisingly, a small unit, and its members handled whatever missions they were assigned. She knew that recently Lt. Patrick Worley, also a physician, had played the role of a dog musher in Alaska to apprehend some pretty nasty bad guys.
Once at the hospital, Grace went to the doctors’ lounge, where she again donned a clean white medical jacket over her scrubs and pinned on her name tag. Then she started her rounds, saying hello to the nurses at their stations and visiting rooms of patients she’d already been assigned.
And watching for other doctors … but no sign of Simon this morning. At least not yet. Would he try to avoid her?
That wasn’t like the Simon she’d known—until he’d transferred to another school.
The first patient Grace saw was a woman whose child had brought home Fifth disease from school—a common illness causing a facial rash. By the time the redness appeared, the illness was no longer contagious, but it was easy to pass to others before symptoms were obvious. It was mostly harmless. However, this particular mother had suffered severe anemia as a result and had been hospitalized. Fortunately she was doing well, and Grace didn’t spend much time with her.
When she went back into the hall, a nurse hurried over. “Dr. Andreas, the E.R. called and requested that all infectious disease specialists head there. Only two of you are on duty right now. Several patients were brought in with something that might be contagious and they need a fast diagnosis.”
Grace hurried down the stairs to the E.R. There, she asked the nurse in charge about the situation for which she had been summoned and was directed to an area down the main hallway. When she walked into the large preliminary examination room, she noted several nurses including Kristine, six apparent patients, and Simon, who stalked out of one of the patient cubicles separated from each other by long blue curtains. He wore gloves and a sanitary mask covering the lower part of his face, but there was no mistaking his muscular build and dark hair.
Grace quickly donned a mask and gloves, too, then approached as he removed his gloves and scrubbed his hands at the large sink. “What does it look like, doctor?”
Simon stepped back. Grace was struck by the intensity and concern in his golden-brown eyes. “Symptoms include diarrhea, vomiting, fever and severe abdominal cramps. The six who just came in are a flight instructor at the base, his family and a couple of neighbors, who ate take-out food from a restaurant a few miles from this area last night. Chicken salad, they said. My suspicion is shigellosis, since that restaurant had problems with it a while back—sanitary conditions suspect, cited by the local board of health. Could be something else, though. Their symptoms seem a lot more severe than what we saw before. We’ll need tests run.”
“Life-threatening?” Grace asked tersely. At Simon’s nod, she hurried into the first examining station.
The next half hour was busy—especially because several other patients with similar symptoms were brought in. Whether it was a severe dysentery-like outbreak of the highly infectious shigellosis or something different—something worse—it appeared to have resulted from food from the same dining facility. Grace directed that lab techs obtain fecal and other samples from each patient and take them to be tested. She assumed that Simon did the same.
The smells in the ER area were nauseating, especially, Grace assumed, because of her enhanced senses even while in human form. But as a doctor, she had encountered odors as bad, or even worse, before. After examining each patient and directing the medical tests to be taken, Grace moved on to the next. Simon appeared equally busy.
Eventually, a lab tech returned with a preliminary result. Simon had apparently been correct: shigellosis, but a highly toxic strain, perhaps a mutated bacterial version. Almost all the patients appeared ill enough to be admitted to the medical facility. Grace prescribed antibiotics—hoping that this strain was not resistant—as well as other medications to ease the severe symptoms.
After a while, the worst of the emergency seemed over, although a couple of patients remained in serious condition. Grace’s adrenaline was still pumping, but she felt she’d done well in helping the majority of the admittees. She’d keep a close watch on those who were the most ill.
She’d also been highly impressed while observing Simon in action. He might be sharp-tongued and enigmatic when dealing with her, but she truly admired his gentle, caring attitude while dealing with suffering patients.
What a conglomeration of contrasts this man still appeared to be. Was he a viable suspect in the biohazards thefts?
She peeled off her latest pair of gloves as well as the mask, and headed again toward the room’s main sink. Unsurprisingly, Simon was there, too.
“What a morning!” she exclaimed. “It’ll be interesting to get a case history on each of them. Confirm that the infection came from the restaurant, although that seems pretty clear.”
“Right.” He didn’t look at her as he dried his hands on a paper towel from a sanitary container.
“We’ll have to keep a close watch still, of course, to make sure that the antibiotics we prescribed are effective. And—”
“You’re right, Grace. As always. See you later.” He turned his back and started walking away.
Obviously he had no interest in talking to her just then. Well, so what? She was busy, too.
Still, she felt inordinately hurt by his slight. She had an urge to kick him in that nice, firm butt she watched with angry interest as he headed for the examination-room’s door.
And followed him. As she exited the room after him, she called, “Yeah, see you later, Dr. Parran,” and headed in the opposite direction. Feeling upset. Angry.
Not a good time for her cell phone to ring. Especially when it was her commanding officer, Major Drew Connell.
She walked out a door for privacy as she answered.
“Any new developments, Grace? I heard from Colonel Otis that they’re likely to have a large enough batch of contaminants to incinerate them tonight or tomorrow.”
“I wondered about that,” Grace said. “Especially after today.” Holding the phone tight against her ear in the warm breeze as she strolled along a path beside the building, she related what had occurred in the emergency room that morning. “A lot of samples of probable shigellosis-infected fluids were collected, maybe a more virulent strain than we normally see. We still have work to ensure the outbreak is stopped.
