Where Rivers Part (13 page)

 18 

B
efore leaving the hospital parking lot, Juliet telephoned Tavina's mother, who was now living outside of New Orleans with Tavina's oldest brother. Juliet answered the frightened woman's questions as best she could, and then Tavina's mom passed the phone over to her son.

“Hey,” he said in a low voice. “Straight up. How bad is it?”

“There are kids who make it,” Juliet explained, trying not to make any promises. “The medical personnel are monitoring his hydration status closely and will use potassium-free fluids until his renal function has stabilized.”

“Is he in renal failure? That can be fatal.”

“MD is showing some indications of stress on his kidneys, but the doctors assured your sister his condition is not at an acute stage at this point.”

When the call ended, Juliet clicked off her phone and tossed it in her purse. She started the engine and backed out of the parking spot, then pulled onto Martin Street and merged onto the 35 going north, leaving the hospital and the past several hours in her rearview mirror.

In some ways, Children's Hospital was a shiny cup filled with sour milk. The bright exterior and colorful landscaping camouflaged an interior filled with anxious parents and children in pain.

Juliet couldn't imagine being in Tavina's place tonight, her torment too deep for words, only authentically expressed in her brown eyes, pooled with heart-wrenching agony.

She swallowed hard, wishing she could call and dump some of her own emotion into her mother's caring lap. Her mom would know what to say to make Juliet feel better. She'd tell her the outcome of MD's medical crisis was in a loving God's hands, and Juliet would want to believe her.

The randomness of life, with all its tragedy, had never settled well with Juliet. She'd like to be convinced that some master being was indeed pulling the strings and orchestrating everything. Because then she'd have someone to blame when nothing made sense and hurtful events hurled into your lap like a steaming potato too hot to pick up and toss back.

At least Tavina had a mother and brothers who loved her and would support her through all this.

Juliet stared at the rear lights of the car in front of her, considering the fact she had no one. In only a short time, she'd lost her mom, sliced her father out of her life, and discovered her relationship with Greer was nothing but pretense.

Her existence was filled with co-workers and professional connections, and girlfriends she'd occasionally meet for dinner or drinks—but Juliet had no one to share her heart with. No one who understood she was a capable woman struggling with insecurity. Who would grasp that she was a bundle of contradictions, a person who was bold and fearful all at the same time? Who—except her dead mother—would truly know her and love her?

God would.

Unexpected tears burned at her eyes as her mother's voice formed in her head, as if she were sitting in the passenger seat talking.

“Maybe so, Mom,” she tentatively whispered. “But he's not here right now.”

You know better than that.

Juliet chewed the inside of her mouth, rolling that thought in her head. Clearly, the night's events had taken their toll. Now she was hearing her dead mother preach.

Up ahead, she caught sight of a McDonald's sign. Juliet rarely indulged in fast food and shouldn't now, given how long it had been since her last run. But she was starving. With food in her stomach, she might think more clearly. Certainly, she wouldn't find anything to eat in that empty refrigerator at home.

Juliet sighed, put her blinker on, and exited. Minutes later, she sat alone in a hard, plastic-backed chair in a dining room filled with empty tables, a greasy odor, and stained tile.

Her hands lifted the Big Mac from the tray and pulled the wrapped paper back. She prepared to take a bite when a buzzing sound came from beside her.

She set the burger back down and grabbed her bag, pulling her iPhone from its pocket, remembering she'd set the ringtone to mute in the hospital.

Greer.

Juliet rolled her eyes. She didn't have the energy to pretend with him tonight. She placed the phone, still buzzing, on the table and picked her hamburger back up. She took a bite, watching the phone finally go dark. As expected, a ding soon alerted that he'd left a voicemail.

Juliet indulged in a handful of hot, salty fries, letting the caloric intake do its trick. There was a reason carbs fried in hot grease were often called comfort food.

The phone rang again.

What could Greer possibly want at this time
of night?

She pulled the protective paper from her straw and plugged it into the lid opening, ignoring the call, then took a drink from her super-sized Diet Coke.

The phone rang yet again.

Frustrated, she slammed the disposable cup to the table, grabbed the phone, and picked up. “Greer, it's late.”

“Where have you been?” he shouted. “I've been trying to reach you for over an hour. I drove by your house and left you phone messages. Why haven't you been picking up?”

It was then Juliet noticed multiple missed calls. “Sorry, calm down. I was at the hospital with Tavina. Her little boy—”

“Juliet, have you seen the news?”

“Yes, I certainly didn't look my best. Not when I was so tired.”

Greer huffed. “You have to get to the office. Now!”

“What are you talking about? What's so important I'd have to get to the office this time of night?”

“The CDC just made a big announcement.”

The alarm in his voice caused the patterned tile to undulate in her vision, like she was suddenly shooting the rapids on the Comal River in a flimsy raft. “An announcement? What about?”

“They've identified the source.” On that, his voice broke.

Juliet nearly spilled her drink. “What? Where?”

“Officials are reporting the source . . . is Water Circus.”

 19 

J
uliet eased her Jeep through the nearly empty front lot at Larimar Springs and parked under a light pole near the entrance, next to Greer's Jaguar. Alexa's Aston Martin was parked in her reserved spot near the front door. She spotted Dale Frissom's car as well.

She'd barely used her security card and stepped inside the lobby when Greer charged across the floor. “It's about time.” He reached for her elbow and guided her down the hall toward the conference room.

“Well, hello to you too,” she said, noticing he'd rolled up his cuffs.

Without responding, he almost pushed her through the conference room door. “She's here. Now we can get started.”

From her spot at the head of the table, Alexa looked up. “I'm relieved to have you with us, Dr. Ryan. Sit down. We have a lot to consider.”

Even at this late hour, Alexa looked put together. She wore designer jeans, calf-length boots, and a cream-colored turtleneck with a leopard print vest over the top. Her hair was pulled back into a chignon at the back of her neck. She even wore lipstick. The only change to her normal appearance was the glasses she wore in place of contacts.

“What did I miss?” Juliet took a spot at the table, trying to ignore how she must look. It'd been hours since a comb had seen her hair, and she probably smelled like French fries.

Alexa wasn't a woman for small talk. She got right to the point. “I'm not going to sugarcoat what's happened tonight. This announcement has placed Larimar Springs in a perilous situation.” She opened her leather portfolio. “I've been in very brief contact with the Water Circus people. I'm told it's a madhouse over there. This finding is very serious for everyone concerned.”

“How serious?” Dale Frissom nervously rubbed his neck above an open-collared shirt. “Look, I'm not sure what all this means.” His hand moved to the side of his face. “Practically speaking.”

Juliet placed her folded hands on the table. “I made a call to my contact at the CDC on my way here, and Dr. Breslin confirmed every test sample resulted in the exact same subtype cultures—the O157:H7 antigen as well as the Shiga-like toxins which are associated with these pathogenic strains.”

Dale ran his hand through his hair. “In English?”

“Those test results, integrated with the established epi curve, are conclusive—every victim visited Water Circus during the window of time they are looking at,” Juliet explained. “The park is under a close order until a team comprised of the CDC, USDA, and Texas state officials can coordinate the effort to pinpoint the suspect food or drink and identify exactly where the pathogens originated.”

Alexa's face turned grim. “Not only will our future expansion be placed on hold for an indefinite period, but while that close order is in place, we stand to lose a lot of profit. Nearly half of our current business is with Water Circus.”

Her manicured fingers rubbed at her temple. “No question, this development will significantly impact our operation here at Larimar Springs. We'll be faced with a multitude of decisions very quickly.” She swiveled her chair toward Juliet. “Dr. Ryan, we're looking to you to help us assimilate the information and guide
us going forward. Why don't you start at the beginning and fully brief the team?”

The fact Alexa had formally addressed the situation by looking to her didn't pass by Juliet. Neither did the immense responsibility. She took a deep breath. “In these early stages of bacterial outbreak, an epidemiologist's task is a lot like assembling a big jigsaw puzzle. Disparate clues have to be identified and connected.”

While Juliet spoke, Greer quietly paced in front of the windows, his hand rubbing at his jaw.

“Step one is to inventory what those with symptoms have consumed during the relevant incubation period. And where.” Juliet poured herself a glass of water from the ice-filled pitcher on the table. “A few days ago, officials narrowed the focus to three potential sources, based on early interviews and their case control study. From there, further tests were necessary to rule out consumed food products that were common to all.”

Greer stopped. “What products?”

“Because those products have now been ruled out, officials will keep that information confidential. For obvious reasons.”

Dale scowled. “How do they rule something like that out?”

“Well,” Juliet answered, “they test the product. If the results fail to match the findings in the stool samples, the lab issues a negative finding and that possibility is crossed off the list.”

Alexa steepled her fingers. “So, at this point there is no reason to question the tests?”

Juliet nodded. “No, the tests are conclusive. No scientific challenge can be made.”

“But do they know what these people ate at Water Circus?” Greer asked.

“No. That's the next phase of the investigation,” Juliet explained. “And to complicate matters, the puzzle pieces are a bit scattered. Beyond consumptive items, the investigators will test other things, like the water in the fountains and waterslides. I'm afraid toddlers
wear diapers, and fecal matter can contaminate areas where other children can come in contact with the E. coli bacteria.”

Greer scowled. “But the news said many of the people who have become ill are older. I haven't seen any senior citizens zipping down a waterslide lately.”

Juliet conceded that was true. “Like I said, this is a very complicated process. Until this whole thing concludes, the governing agencies won't take chances, which is why they issued a close order to the Water Circus here in San Antonio. Thankfully, all the reported cases are local.” She leaned back. “Things could be much worse.”

Greer almost sneered. “What could be worse than losing our biggest account and knocking out a planned expansion that could have quadrupled this company's profits?”

Juliet ignored his comment and turned to Alexa. “As you might guess, Larimar Springs is on the vendor list they've compiled. I've been asked to meet with the authorities first thing tomorrow morning for a special meeting to provide records they've requested.”

Alarm crossed everyone's faces.

“What kind of records?” Greer snapped.

“Our internal test results from our sampling program, log books, and procedure manuals. They will already have the audit reports from the health inspections, which we always passed with flying colors.” Juliet worked to appear confident. “I assure you, everything is in order. We run a clean ship. Besides, bottled water products boast the rarest number of pathogenic outbreak incidents among consumer products.”

Juliet could see Alexa and the others carefully considering the information she'd provided, making mental calculations of the cost to the company and to each of them personally. Especially Greer. The biggest accomplishment of his career was now swirling down the toilet. Clearly, he was not happy about his future being flushed away.

If Juliet were a mean person, she might find some joy in that.
But she knew how devastated he must feel right now. Which is why she'd left the really bad news until last. “I'm afraid I have more.”

Alexa furrowed her brow. “More?”

Juliet nodded. “My assistant, Tavina Mosely, called me earlier this evening. Her little boy has developed symptoms consistent with the O157 hemolytic uremic syndrome reported on the news. I was with her at Children's Hospital this evening when you all were looking for me.” Juliet noticed Greer gazing out the windows into the dark, his back to the rest of them. “Doctors have yet to confirm, but all indications are that Tavina's son has HUS and is in the early stages of renal shutdown.”

Alexa's face visibly paled. “Is he—will he be all right?”

Juliet shrugged. “The medical professionals will closely monitor him, try to keep him hydrated. But this is a virulent disease. Statistics show that nearly 85 percent of children under the age of six who contract the O157 strain and develop these symptoms fail to come through the ordeal.”

“He could die?” Alexa teared up, clearly upset. The normally self-assured woman seemed to come undone in front of everyone. She glanced at Greer, then turned and stared at the table in front of her. “I'm so sorry to hear that,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper.

From where she sat, Juliet could see the tendons in Greer's neck muscles flex.

Several seconds passed in silence. Finally, Alexa raised her head. “Is there anything she needs? What can we do?”

“I'm not really sure at this point,” Juliet responded. “The next twenty-four hours will be critical.”

Alexa stood. “I'll make some calls. My husband knows several of the hospital board members. We can arrange special attention for Tavina and her little boy.”

Greer rubbed at the side of his face. He stepped to the table, looking oddly flustered, and cleared his throat. “We still need to evaluate what this will do to us financially. And make a plan,” he
said in a low voice, as if wanting to move on to a less emotional topic.

Alexa turned her exhausted face in his direction. “Not tonight. Besides, we'll need Fred to run numbers before we can truly assess the hit we'll take, and make any appropriate decisions.” She gathered her purse from the floor. “I'll call Cyril first thing in the morning. I don't want him hearing about this from anyone else.” She looked across the table. “Go home, everyone. Get some sleep. Then let's plan to gather back here first thing in the morning.” She turned to Juliet. “Please keep me posted. On everything.”

Juliet nodded. “When I return from meeting with the authorities, I'll bring an update.”

Before leaving, Juliet grabbed her white coat from her office and headed for the lab to collect some records stored there. The production lines ran shifts around the clock and were located at the rear of the complex. But the admin offices were eerily quiet at this time of the night.

Juliet made her way past darkened cubicles. As she rounded the break room, ahead she noticed light coming through the door leading to the lab.
That's
strange. Who left the lights on?

She swiped her security card and followed the sanitation protocol. With her shoulder, she hit the large red button and waited for the buzz that would release the door. Inside, something moved at the back counter. She startled. “Malcolm? Malcolm, what are you doing here?”

He startled as well. “Uh—Dr. Ryan.” His eyes darted around the room. “I didn't expect you'd be here this late.”

Juliet's eyes narrowed. “I wouldn't suppose so. It's nearly eleven.” She moved closer to his petite frame. “Why are
you
here this late?”

“I heard the news, figured we'd be the target of further investigation, and thought I'd make sure the girls had gotten all our test results in the notebooks.” He stared at her. “They'll want to see them, right?”

Juliet slowly nodded. “That's why I'm here.” She walked to the filing cabinets against the wall opposite where they were standing. Her fingers ran across the spine labels until she located the records she'd need. “And everything is in order?” she asked with her back to the QA supervisor.

“Everything's there,” he assured her.

She turned, her arms loaded with two large three-ring binders. “I didn't see your car out front.”

“I parked out in the back lot.”

Juliet eyed him warily. “But that's quite a walk.”

“Security patrols that lot at night,” he answered, challenging her suspicion. “Safer when you're walking to your car alone.”

Juliet mentally chastised her cynical distrust, unsure why she continued to believe she had to watch her back with him. She nodded. “Makes sense.” Then she added, “Thank you, Malcolm, for taking the initiative to make sure we have everything.”

Malcolm nodded. His black eyes stared at the floor. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Juliet thanked him again and moved for the door. Suddenly, she turned. “Malcolm? Would you like to go with me in the morning? To the meeting, I mean.”