Georgia Davis was beginning to forget what life was like before the pandemic. She recalled lazy summer days on the beach at Lake Geneva with Jimmy. Joining the crowds to watch the Fourth of July fireworks. Cheering on the Cubs when the team was still winning. But those memories, vivid and crisp at the time, were fading like old photographs with yellowed, curled-up edges.
Three years after it had arrived, Covid was still widespread. People were still dying. Resources were stretched thin, and the economy was still in the toilet. Which meant little or no work for her. Who needed a PI when they barely left home? She’d never seen people so anxious and irritable, quick to start an argument or an insurrection. She went into her kitchen to brew coffee.
Last summer it had seemed as if the worst was over, and a patina of normalcy had returned. People wore masks indoors, but vaccines and boosters were plentiful, and she and Jimmy were now fully vaccinated. As the Chief of Police in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, he was a first responder. She made her sister, Savannah, and her mother, JoBeth, get vaccinated as well. Her mother had recovered from the gunshot wound in her side six months earlier and was living in Jimmy’s Northglen apartment, a short fifteen minutes from Evanston. JoBeth loved being “Gamma” and chief babysitter for Charlie, who, at two, was talking like a magpie, or whatever the masculine version of that was. They were mostly made-up words and inflections, but JoBeth was sure he was destined be a brilliant scientist or lawyer. Georgia’s sister, Vanna, was taking classes at Oakton Community College. Some were remote, but a few brave teachers taught in person.
Georgia poured her coffee into her favorite black mug. All in all, she had a lot to be grateful for. Except for the new variant of Covid that appeared, more contagious than any of its predecessors. Cases shot up around the world, and the country girded itself for another attack. Uncertainty returned. Did the rest of the world feel in as much limbo as she did? Her cell chirped, cutting short her thoughts. She dug it out from her sweatpants pocket.
She checked her caller ID. “Hi Ellie.”
“Good morning, Georgia.”
Ellie Foreman was slowly becoming a friend as well as a colleague. They sometimes worked together. Ellie’s boyfriend, Luke, like Jimmy, lived in Lake Geneva. In fact, the men were close. But she hadn’t seen Ellie in over a year. “How are you getting along? How’s Rachel?”
“You wouldn’t believe it. You know, she’s thirty now.”
Georgia whistled. “I’ve known her that long?”
She’d met Ellie’s daughter before she met Ellie. At thirteen, Rachel had been going through a “wild” period and ended up at the police station one night after speeding around the North Shore with two older kids. The cops had found a loaded .38 special in the back seat.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard from her recently. She adores you. She enrolled in the Police Academy.”
“Rachel?”
“She’s…well…it didn’t work out. But that’s her story to tell.”
“Maybe I should text her?”
Ellie’s voice warmed. “I think she’d love that.”
“So what can I do for you?” Georgia asked, knowing Ellie usually had a reason when she called. When she first met Ellie, in fact, she’d thought the woman was one of those entitled North Shore mothers who expected everyone to accommodate her slightest wish, but Ellie had proven her wrong. Georgia had come to like Ellie’s dry sense of humor, self-deprecation, and authentic sense of justice.
“Well, I’m not sure,” Ellie said. “You know my friend Susan Siler, right?”
“Redhead, always looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine?”
Ellie laughed. “That’s the one.” She paused. “Unfortunately, her aunt—her mother’s sister—collapsed and died a few minutes after getting her shot.”
“Oh, no. Do they know why?”
“That’s just it. Her aunt Emily was as hardy as they come. Sure, she was in her eighties, but she worked out, walked, ate right, and was incredibly healthy.”
“An allergy, maybe?”
“No one knows.”
“What did they do when she collapsed?”
“She was at a church up here. A doctor was supervising a bunch of medical students and aides. He shut down everything and called the paramedics. They rushed her to the hospital, but she was gone. It was her booster, and she hadn’t had any problems with her first two vaccines.”
“I sense a big ‘but’ coming.”
“You guessed it. They did an autopsy right away, but the results were inconclusive. They didn’t find anything unusual. Meanwhile, the doctor got the okay to start up again the next day. The day after that, yesterday, I believe, two other people died.”
“Seniors?”
“Yes.” Ellie went on. “One of the men wasn’t in great shape. He had colon cancer and was actively getting chemotherapy. The other had diabetes, but other than that, nothing of note.
“They let the one with cancer get the shot anyway?”
“Apparently. I don’t know the details. Which is why I’m calling you. Are you busy with anything right now?”
“Are you kidding? In the middle of a pandemic? If you mean calling contacts who never call me back and staring at walls all day, I’m overwhelmed.”
“So you have time to talk to Susan and her mother?”
“Why?”
“I think you know Susan. She’s the type of person who dots all her i’s and crosses her t’s. She’s the most meticulous person I know.” Ellie cleared her throat. “So’s her mother. They’re…um…concerned.”
“About what?”
“Her aunt, of course, and why she died. Especially since she was so robust and healthy. Why would she die because of the shot? Not to mention the ones who died two days later.”
“There could be a million reasons. Allergies, contamination, wrong dosage—”
“Someone is supposed to be talking to the manufacturer to make sure the lot was kosher.”
“Sure. That’ll definitely turn up something significant.” Georgia surprised herself. When had she become so cynical? She explained. “If it was the manufacturer, don’t you think there would have been more deaths by now? Or severe reactions?”
“Susan agrees with you. Unfortunately, it’s not clear who’s checking with the manufacturer, when, or what they’ll find out.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be the doctor? Or the Department of Public Health?”
“Like I said,” Ellie went on. “It’s not clear. And that’s driving Susan crazy.”
“And Susan is your best friend—”
“She is.” Ellie cut in.
“You don’t think Susan might be—like her friend Ellie—inclined to a bit of impulsive behavior?”
Ellie let the barb go. Again, Georgia was surprised. “Maybe,” Ellie followed up. “That’s why I’m calling. If you talk to them, they might calm down. Realize it could have been something no one knew about. Like something she ate right before the shot. Nothing that could have been predicted. I suspect they just need reassurance from someone who’s investigated unidentified deaths before.”
“Oh. I’m supposed to make sure she wasn’t overdosing on cocaine or opioids?”
A beat of silence. Then, “Did I mention she and her mother are willing to compensate you for your time?”
“That’s kind, but I’d do it free. For you.”
“Thanks. I’ll ask them to spring for lattes. How about Edens Plaza in half an hour?”