In Winslow’s private conference room, Juan spread out the pictures of the device he’d received from Special Agent Carrington and pushed them across the table toward Winslow and Hutchison, the chief of security.
“I received this device earlier today, from the FBI,” he said. “As you can see, it has AgriMed Global markings on the inside. All I can say is that this was found in a cancer patient’s home. Do you have any idea if this is a legit AgriMed device, and if so, what is it?”
Winslow studied the photos, then nodded. “Metal box, looks like a water hose running through a sealed compartment, attached to it is an opaque plastic bag, and out the other end is another hose that attaches to the spigot on the front of the box. Is that a correct description?”
“Yes.” Juan nodded. “I couldn’t exactly tell without taking it apart what was in the bag and what purpose that inner chamber was for. Is this something you’ve seen before, Dr. Winslow?”
“Yes, it looks familiar,” Winslow said matter-of-factly, putting the pictures back down. “But, the AgriMed Global stencil on the plastic bag was the only identifying mark? No serial numbers? No identifying tags on the hose or the interior chamber itself?”
“No, nothing like that. Just the stencil.”
Pressing his lips together tightly, Winslow stared at the collection of photos and hummed. “I’ve seen something like this before, but we used it to dose certain medicines through it. Almost like how an infusion pump doses very exact amounts of medication through an IV. This device does the same thing, but it’s driven by a little paddle wheel within the mixing chamber.” He pointed to one of the photos. “As the water flows through, small amounts of whatever’s in that bag gets dripped into the stream of water.”
Juan’s interest was piqued. “So it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think that if there was some oral medication in that bag, someone would just turn the spigot and the water coming out would automatically be dosed appropriately?”
“Yes, but I’ve only seen this used on lab animals,” Winslow said as he drummed his fingers on the table with a troubled expression. “We never did it on people, because I suppose we never needed to. Generally speaking, people take pills or shots pretty readily.”
A nefarious possibility immediately sprang to Juan’s mind. “What if you didn’t want someone to know you were dosing them, or maybe you didn’t want them to have any idea what they were taking? Something like this could be used.”
Winslow frowned. “I suppose if the medicine is tasteless… Is that what the FBI think it was used for?”
“No, nothing like that. At least, not that I know of.” Juan had to admit that Agent Carrington wasn’t always entirely forthcoming about everything he knew.
“Did the FBI agents dust the interior for prints?” Hutchison asked, the gray-haired man staring at him with that penetrating glare of his.
“Oh, crap. I didn’t even think about that. I don’t think so.” Juan leaned back against the leather chair, the fatigue of having been up through the night hitting him like a brick. “Sorry, I think the agent who brought it to me had also been up for a very long time and neither of us considered checking for prints. I’m running on thirty-six hours without sleep. I’ll call the agent about that—”
“No need,” Hutchison said. “I’ll call my contacts. No need to discuss it further. I need to talk to them anyway about other things.”
Juan turned to Winslow and asked, “So, is there any chance that this box is a legit AgriMed product?”
“No chance,” Winslow replied with an angry expression. “We only use items like that on animals. Any controlled trials we participate in are highly monitored and we’d never let an auto-dose unit like this out in someone’s home on a clinical trial. It’s too easy to accidentally dose non-patients, or for the person to drink too much or too little of the water, thus affecting their dosage.”
As Juan wondered about the seemingly innocuous black box sitting in the lab, a sense of foreboding washed over him. “What the hell is being dosed out of that thing?” he wondered aloud as he stifled a yawn.
Winslow hitched a thumb toward the coffee machine behind him. “Want me to pour you a cup?”
“No, I just need to get to bed. Speaking of which, I appreciate the hotel room, but when can I go back to my apartment?”
Winslow turned to Hutchison, who remained silent for several long seconds before saying, “I’ve talked with some of the folks you’re working with at the Bureau. We agree that it’s best that you stay put for now. The hotel is safer.”
The ex-Army investigator was clearly not telling him everything he knew. But while that bugged Juan, he also thought it might be for the best. He’d had nightmares about German-speaking people breaking into his apartment. Maybe he’d rather not know just how much danger he was in.
“Well, I guess I should shred these,” Juan said, standing up and nodding toward the photos. “I’m pretty sure I’m skating on the edge by having printed those out in the first place.”
Hutchison quickly scooped them up. “I’ll take care of it.”
Winslow came around the conference room table and patted Juan on the shoulder. “You really do look exhausted. Why don’t I get Carl to take you to the hotel?”
Juan pictured the large former Navy SEAL and shook his head. “Thank you, but I don’t need you to bother Carl. I’ll get there just fine.”
But as he left the room, he thought he heard Winslow whisper something that sounded very much like, “Have him followed.”
###
Though it was only three p.m., Juan lay in his bed with the air conditioning cranked to high and the comforter pulled up to his chin.
Well, it wasn’t really his bed, nor his apartment. Life had become surreal ever since the break-in. He still wasn’t used to the idea that there were people out there who were a threat to him. And worse, that they were potentially abusing what he’d worked on.
Despite being exhausted, he couldn’t get his mind to settle down. He had too many questions. Like—were Winslow and Hutchison being straight with him? Had he imagined what Winslow had said as he left?
He’d spent the drive to the hotel looking in the rearview mirror for Carl Weatherby. It had been a while since he’d seen the two nameless guys in suits. He hadn’t spotted anyone following him, but that meant nothing.
“Shit,” Juan grumbled in the darkness of the room. “If AgriMed is out to get me, I’m screwed anyway.”
He pushed thoughts of conspiracy out of his head just as his cell phone rang.
With a groan, he reached over and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hi Juan. It’s Kathy O’Reilly. Remember me?”
Juan bolted to a sitting position, and despite the fatigue and anxiety he’d been feeling, her voice immediately made him smile. “Hey, Kathy, how are you doing? How’s your father?”
“We’re both great. In fact, I just got off the phone with my dad, and I wanted to thank you again for what you did. He just got a clean bill of health from his doctors. He’s in total remission. You literally saved my father’s life.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. Sometimes miracles do happen. I take it you’re back at Georgetown?”
“Yup. And I, uh…” Her voice faltered, then lowered to almost a whisper. “I’d like it if you’d let me take you out sometime to celebrate.”
An electric thrill raced through Juan. “You got it.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized this was a bad time for it, what with everything he had going on. “Umm, how about this. Definitely yes on going out, but I’m really swamped at work right now. I’m not sure yet when I’ll be coming up for air.”
“Oh, no worries, I understand,” Kathy said with an airy tone. “Whenever you have time, just call me back at this number. I mean, if you want to. Like I said, no pressure.”
“I will. I definitely will,” Juan said. “It’ll be a date.” His stomach fluttered like a teenager’s.
As he got off the phone, he lay back in bed. The soft mattress seemed to swallow him up. And with thoughts of Kathy’s green eyes and brilliant smile, he felt his body finally relax and his mind succumb to unconsciousness.
###
As Frank shifted through the gears of the old Chevy pickup, Megan bounced up and down in the passenger seat like an excited schoolgirl. “I can’t wait to hook it up!”
“My God, woman, you’d think getting a new TV was a big deal.”
“It is a big deal! At least it is to someone who doesn’t find entertainment in whittling a perfectly good piece of wood into toothpicks.” Megan scoffed. “Do you even remember the last time we bought a new TV?”
“I sure do.” Frank remembered the day like it was yesterday. “You were pregnant with Kathy and wanted a color TV that didn’t need tubes replaced.”
“That’s right, you stubborn mule. Which means it was over twenty-five years ago. I’ve been praying for that Zenith of ours to die for ages.”
In the back seat, Jasper barked.
Frank glanced at the bag of groceries between him and Megan and asked, “Do you think we could have dinner sooner than later? I’m starving.”
As Frank pulled up in front of the house, Megan rubbed his shoulder. “If you set up the new TV, I’ll whip up some dinner. Deal?”
Frank set the parking brake and smiled. “Deal.”
Megan gathered the bag of groceries while Frank went to the back of the truck and opened the tailgate.
He was just about to loosen the straps to the TV when Megan shouted.
“Frank!”
Frank looked up to see her backing away from the front door. Jasper was beside her, growling. Ahead of her, the door stood ajar, and the wood just above the jamb was splintered.
Someone had broken in.
Frank raced to her side, pulling his Smith and Wesson .45 from its in-waistband holster.
“Be careful,” she hissed. “Someone might still be in there.”
Jasper gave a low growl and, without warning, darted ahead of Frank, snaking through the narrow opening to the house.
With a bullet in the chamber, Frank dropped to a shooter’s stance as he pushed the door open with his foot.
Scanning the room, Frank didn’t see anything out of order. Jasper was sniffing around the kitchen and came back toward the front of the house wagging his tail. If the dog didn’t sense danger, that was a good sign. Jasper had a feeling for these things.
Still, Frank maintained his shooter’s stance as he cleared each room. Only once he’d covered the whole house did he holster his weapon and return to the front door.
“It’s okay, Megan, you can come in. It definitely looks like someone used a pry bar or something to break in, but they’re not here now, and I don’t see anything missing.”
Megan walked inside, carrying a bag of groceries. “Franklin, it doesn’t matter. Call the sheriff.”
###
While one Lincoln County police officer brushed for prints on the front door, another talked with Frank and Megan. “You’re sure nothing was taken?”
Frank nodded. “We’ve looked around carefully. Nothing’s missing.”
“That’s really strange, Mr. O’Reilly.” The officer pointed at the old TV and then at the china cabinet, which displayed some of Megan’s grandmother’s china along with silverware they never used. “You’ve got stuff out, plain as day, that a robber would take in a heartbeat.”
Frank’s watch beeped, and Megan came up behind him and raked her fingers down the back of his neck. “Honey,” she said, “when are you going to turn off that alarm? Now that the docs have cleared you, you don’t need to take the medicine anymore.”
Frank groaned. “Kathy programmed this darn thing for me. It’s probably easier to just use my old Timex than figure out how to undo this blasted reminder.”
Megan looked into the kitchen and the smile on her face melted away. She tapped on Frank’s back and said, “Um, honey, where did that box from the VA go off to? It’s not in its usual spot.”
Frank turned toward the kitchen and stared at the now-empty counter where the black box from the VA had been. “Son of a gun.” He turned to the officer. “Turns out we do have something missing.”
###
It had been a long day and Frank was exhausted. He’d set up the new TV, taken the old one to the dump, then patched up the front door jamb. By the time he managed to pile into bed, Megan was already asleep.
As he stared up at the ceiling, he thought about the burglary. Why would someone break in just to take that medical device? Was it valuable? And what would he do if the VA called and said they needed it back?
Except, none of those VA folks were ever going to call. Frank knew that. It was as though everyone involved in the trial had just vanished, and the rest of the VA knew nothing about it. Up till now, Frank hadn’t worried too much about it—he’d gotten better and wasn’t about to complain—even though the whole thing was certainly suspicious.
What could be so important about that box that someone would break into a man’s house and steal it?
Frank recalled how the doctor and the clinical trial he’d gone to had vanished from the VA. The whole thing struck him as suspicious.
Could someone be trying to hide something?
Suddenly, Frank was struck with a horrible thought.
He turned on the light, opened the top drawer of his nightstand, pulled out the business card he’d stashed there, and dialed the number.
A weary voice answered. “Carrington.” The agent sounded as if he’d been awakened from a dead sleep.
Frank winced as he glanced at the time. “Agent Carrington, this is Frank O’Reilly over at Ash Springs. I’m sorry, I should have waited to call you tomorrow. I wasn’t thinking.” Megan stirred next to him, but didn’t wake.
“It’s okay, Mr. O’Reilly. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I figured you should know a couple things. First, someone broke into my house today and stole the medical device I got from the VA to treat my cancer.”
“The box with the spout?” Carrington suddenly sounded wide awake.
“That’s right. And it reminded me of something else I had forgotten about. A while back, one of our pregnant heifers got sick, and I wasn’t sure if she’d have to be put down. So I let her have some of my medicine—it was basically water—figuring what could it hurt? She did get better, though I don’t know if the medicine had anything to do with it. And I don’t know if that had anything to do with what happened later. But I’m thinking… I don’t know. The medicine worked, but there’s something suspicious about that clinical trial and all, and now the VA’s box was stolen, so… I guess I just thought you should know. I’m sorry I didn’t remember any of this earlier.”
“Mr. O’Reilly, thank you so much for sharing this information. One question: After the break-in today, did the police come and take prints?”
“Yes, sir. They did.”
“Okay, I’ll get in touch with them. Thank you again, Mr. O’Reilly. It’s helpful.”
Frank hung up, turned off the light, and lay his head back on the pillow.
Megan rolled over and draped her arm across his chest. “Was that Kathy?”
“No, honey. Go back to sleep.”
Frank wrapped his arms around his wife and closed his eyes, hoping to forget everything for just a few hours.