With Every Breath (22 page)

Kate wasn’t allowed to sit at the dinner table, so she ate her bowl of oatmeal in exile on the parlor sofa. The rumble of hearty conversation from the dining room made her feel deserted, and watching pedestrians outside on the street made her sense of isolation even worse. A man hefted a toddler high against his chest with one arm and held his wife’s hand with the other. A couple of children tossed a ball to each other. And in the distance . . .

Was that Trevor headed their way? In the dim twilight she could see his tall frame, his dark wool coat flaring out behind him, and a medical bag in one hand. Such a typically dour expression on his face. She smiled as his footsteps thudded on the landing, wishing her heart wouldn’t speed up so much at the sight of him. He walked in without knocking and spotted her on the sofa.

“I don’t make house calls very often,” he said as he walked into the room and set his bag down.

“I hope this isn’t going to cost extra.”

“It’s going to cost whatever your mother is serving for dinner.” He didn’t crack a smile as he pulled up a footstool, reached for her hand, and started taking her pulse. “Feeling better today?”

“I’m fine, but I hope you don’t let dinner go to your head. Everyone has been singing your praises all afternoon. Even Mother is willing to concede your brilliance, which is a shame because you’ve already got such a problem with your ego.”

He studied his watch as he continued taking her pulse. “Don’t be bitter, Kate. Besides, after that surgery, I’ll bet you’re glad I was always better than you in biology.”

“That’s not true!”

“In four years of school, I had better grades in biology three times, and we tied once.” Trevor pulled a thermometer from his bag and shook it before placing it under her tongue.

He had her there, but she didn’t intend to concede. She shifted the thermometer to the side. “Any luck with the investigation?”

His mouth thinned. “I spoke to a couple of investigators today. They’re looking at professional rivals—people I beat out for a grant or funding, which is nonsense, because medical rivals don’t get ahead by firing low blows like this. I’m sure this is related to the mercury study.”

“Or it could be related to those missing two years.” She removed the thermometer from her mouth. “Is that when you were having a passionate affair with an opera singer? Or an actress?”

“Oh, for pity’s sake . . .”

She couldn’t resist digging. “Or ran off with Gypsies? Or went digging for gold in California?” She pushed herself a little higher on the sofa. She had been deliberately goading him with ridiculous theories but gasped when a terrible thought seized her.

“Were you married? Do you have a wife and family stashed somewhere?”

A burst of laughter escaped him. “Is that what you think?”

Given the way he laughed, it did seem pretty foolish. It was impossible to imagine the dry, upright Dr. Kendall getting soft and romantic over a woman, but when he smiled like that, there was a dimple on the side of his face. Why had she never noticed it before?

The dimple triggered a memory . . . Trevor smiling down on her with tenderness, his gaze soft as he cared for her. He’d been so gentle, so loving . . .

Raucous laughter sounded from the dining room, and they both startled.

She glanced away and forced a lightness into her tone. “Whatever you were doing couldn’t have been that bad. And it might
help us figure out who hates you enough to want to bring you down. The way you clam up whenever I mention it makes me think there’s something I need to know. Where were you, Trevor?”

“I was minding my own business,” he snapped. The temporary reprieve evaporated, and the arctic blizzard returned. He dumped the file in her lap. “I’m hungry. You can record your own temperature reading. You know how.” He then turned and headed toward the dining room.

So grouchy! Not that Trevor was ever a bundle of sweetness, but they had a very nice understanding before the surgery, even if he had resisted her advances. It was embarrassing how much she enjoyed his company and looked forward to working alongside him.

For some reason he held himself aloof from her. She absently twirled the thermometer, rolling the hard glass tube beneath her tongue. Why was he so reticent about his past, and about those two years in particular? She leaned her head back against the pillow and racked her brain for everything she knew about Trevor.

His father was wealthy, but Trevor disliked him enough to shed the McDonough name. Trevor had been sent to America to be raised by a guardian, yet his father cared enough to send a Black Angus steer at Christmas and a priceless book of Shakespeare’s plays as a birthday present. Was his father still alive? Maybe she could ask Tick for his help in figuring this out. Tick was quite clever at solving problems, and she was desperate enough to recruit him to the cause.

Because someone from Trevor’s past wanted to ruin a very fine man, and she wasn’t going to stand to the side while it happened.

17

T
he enforced rest felt good at first, but after three days on the parlor sofa, Kate was ready for a change of atmosphere. Though she was well enough to return to her own bedroom, spending the entire day alone upstairs seemed too dreary for words, so she remained in the parlor. Besides, this gave her a chance to keep an extra set of eyes on the security of the boardinghouse, because they were no closer to finding whoever planted the medical slides.

Irene Bauman was on hand to keep Kate company. She let Irene model her latest clothing purchases and listened to the girl prattle on about the clerk at the general store, whom she was convinced fancied her. So did the assistant at the post office, and a young lawyer at her father’s office. It seemed the entire male population of Washington carried a torch for her. It was a wonder the nation hadn’t ground to a halt in the wake of Irene’s staggering appeal.

One of Tick’s friends from the marines, Corporal Stephen Lad, was spending a few hours every day at the boardinghouse to make sure there was no more trouble. So far, almost a dozen men had taken turns covering the hours until Tick could return
from his duties at the hospital and take over. It must be very dull, and sometimes they volunteered to do a few chores to keep themselves busy.

This afternoon Corporal Lad was helping her father repair a loose drainpipe at the back of the house. Irene perched on the footstool and leaned closer to whisper, “When I passed Corporal Lad this morning, he made facial advances toward me.”

“Facial advances?”

Irene nodded. “You know, following me with his eyes, smiling without smiling. Men do that to women they find attractive.”

“Oh, Irene . . .” Sometimes the girl simply left Kate speechless. She couldn’t wait until Trevor gave her the go-ahead to return to work.

“I wonder what those policemen are doing outside?” Irene said.

Kate swiveled to look out the front window. Sure enough, there were four police officers walking toward the house. A moment later their footsteps sounded on the front steps. “Go get my father, quick,” Kate said.

This was what happened when Nathan was killed. Her heart raced, and her lungs seized up. This could be about Tick. Or Trevor . . .

Kate hurried to the front door, yanking it open to see all four police officers gathered on the front stoop. “Yes?”

“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Officer Rycroft of the Washington Police Department. We have a warrant to search these premises.”

A wave of dizziness passed over her. “A warrant?”

“What’s all this about?” Her father came striding in from the rear of the house, Corporal Lad right behind him. Kate moved back to clutch at the banister, trying to process what was happening as the other police officers pushed inside and began spreading throughout the ground floor of the boardinghouse.

“We have reason to believe tainted medical samples may be hidden in the house.”

“Someone planted medical trash here last week,” her father said, looking ready to explode. “We had nothing to do with that.”

The officer looked uncomfortable. “I’m aware of the case. We’ve had an anonymous tip about serious misconduct, and given what was found last week, a judge has signed a warrant to search the property.”

The strength left her knees as Kate sank down onto the stairs, one hand clinging to the banister. Her father continued to deny they had done anything wrong, but the policemen were already going in and out of rooms. It felt like a violation as one of them opened the drawers of the dining room bureau, rummaging through the cutlery with a loud jangle. One officer mounted the staircase.

“You can’t go up there,” her father said. “Those rooms are occupied by people who pay good money for their privacy. Business people! Congressmen!”

“Our warrant covers the entire house, including all the individual rooms.”

The color drained from her father’s face. This was a disaster. Footsteps thudded on the staircase and on the floor above them. The officers were respectful, but this was awful.

And it was all her fault. If she hadn’t gone to work for Trevor, none of this would be happening. The Zomohkovs already left because of this, and now surely there would be others who felt compelled to leave. Her father plopped down on the stair beside her and slung an arm around her waist. “Don’t you worry,” he said in a low voice.

But she did worry. As the afternoon dragged on, the boarders began returning home. Charlie Davis looked up the staircase
in bewilderment when he wasn’t allowed to go to his room. He agreed to wait outside until the search was finished.

Tom Wilkerson from the Patent Office was less congenial. “I have confidential paper work in my room,” he said. “This is an outrage!”

Kate wasn’t sure if he was yelling at the police officer or her father. Either way, she prayed the police would finish their work and get out so this mortifying incident could be over. It was after five o’clock and the rush of people returning home would begin soon.

“Found something, Sergeant,” a voice called from high on the fourth floor. “It was in Mrs. Livingston’s closet, on the top shelf.”

She sucked in a breath. Her own bedroom? She hadn’t been upstairs since before her surgery, but she had nothing to hide in her room.

Kate moved off the staircase as an officer carried a large box down the steps, holding it far from his body as though the contents revolted him. She’d never seen it before!

“What’s inside?” the sergeant demanded.

Kate held her breath. The police officer tipped it forward so they could see.

Inside the box were more slides of medical waste and half-empty vials of mercury.

* * * *

This box was worse than before. The lung tissue and mercury were bad enough, but most damaging was the paper work. Kate recognized the papers instantly because they were the same forms she used for the current study that measured the saturation of nutrients in the patients’ blood—except these forms tracked mercury.

One set of files reported mercury dosages and effects on the patients, but there was an identical file that reported an entirely
different set of statistics. Statistics that indicated tremendous improvement in the patients’ health.

“It looks like Dr. Kendall was faking his results and hiding the evidence in Mrs. Livingston’s room,” the police officer said.

“That’s absurd,” Kate said. Yet it was easy to see how someone who didn’t know Trevor might come to believe such a thing. The names and dates on both files were identical, the dosage of mercury the same. Only the conclusions were wildly different, and that pointed to a clear-cut case of medical fraud.

She didn’t need a lawyer to tell her where this was leading. They suspected Trevor of falsifying his research and hiding the evidence in her house. Officers interviewed some of the boarders, wanting to know how often Dr. Kendall had been to their house and if he had ever been caught prowling around the upper floors.

Tick arrived home, pushing through a throng of people gathered outside. He pulled her aside, concern in his eyes. “Don’t say anything,” he warned. “They may try to implicate you in something, and you’re under no obligation to speak with them.”

“Someone is trying to frame Trevor,” she whispered.

Tick frowned. “This house has been under constant guard since that first box was found. My guess is the second box was planted in your room the same time they put the one in the washroom. When no one found it, they sent an anonymous letter to the police to prompt a more thorough search.”

Her hands went clammy. It wouldn’t be long before whoever was doing this would try to draw an association between her and Trevor. After Trevor began dining with them, their friendship was common knowledge. What better way to damage Trevor than to imply he was hiding evidence of fraudulent research at the house of an associate?

Tick pulled the draperies aside and eyed the people on the street. “It looks like some reporters have arrived.”

The breath left her in a rush. Trevor was already taking a beating in the newspapers, and this was going to launch a frenzy. He didn’t deserve this. She felt tired and weak as she returned to sit on the stairs, leaning her cheek against the cool wood of the newel-post.

Trevor arrived a few minutes later. His face was white with anger as he shoved through the onlookers clustered on the sidewalk. He spotted her on the staircase and headed straight to her.

Leaning over, he said in a low voice, “Are you all right?” His eyes darted over her face, and he reached out to cup the curve of her jaw. Concern simmered in his gaze. A lump formed in her throat because the first question he asked was about her.

“I’m fine, but I don’t understand why this is happening.”

He nodded brusquely. “I don’t either, but I’m going to find out.” He strode away to speak with the sergeant in charge. Behind her, she could hear the harsh tone of one of their boarders, who demanded a refund of his money.

“I won’t stay in a house where disease is rampant,” the boarder said.

Justice Bauman perked up. “See here, is there any danger of that filth infecting the inhabitants of this house? I have my daughter’s well-being to consider.”