Josh cracked a third egg into the bowl, then grabbed the whisk and started beating them together with the milk. The sun was barely up, and he’d only slept a couple hours. Every creak of the old beach house had been a potential intruder, as far as he was concerned. Quinton had assured him that tracking them to this house should be almost impossible, but he knew there were still no guarantees they wouldn’t be found. Plus, now he was worried he’d put his partner’s life at risk. Someone was clearly willing to do anything it took to stop them. Which meant the closer they got to the truth, the more dangerous this nightmare became.
He glanced down the hallway, glad Caitlyn was getting some sleep. Or at least he hoped she was. At three o’clock, when he’d come out for a glass of water, her light had been on. He wasn’t sure if she’d fallen asleep while reading through the files, or if she’d just stayed up, but either way, he had a feeling she hadn’t slept much either.
He turned down the gas on the stove, then poured the beaten egg mixture into the hot pan. While he was grateful for the safe house, being here wasn’t getting them any closer to finding out who was behind this. But then, what was he supposed to do? His face was on the evening news, so going around interviewing people was going to be difficult, if not impossible. He was still waiting to hear from Eddie, and while Quinton had promised to do as much digging as he could, it was only a matter of time before someone caught on to the fact that he was on their side. And that would put his partner’s entire family at risk.
I’m not sure what to do next, God.
He looked up as Caitlyn walked into the room, set a thick file folder and the laptop down on the bar, then shot him a sleepy smile. “What are you making? It smells delicious.”
“I hope you like eggs and bacon.”
She was wearing the jeans and one of the T-shirts he’d bought for her, her hair was mussed, and she looked half awake. Maybe she actually had slept a little.
“Are you kidding? I’d never turn that down. Breakfast has always been my favorite meal of the day, and for some reason I’m starving this morning.”
“Good. I always like it when a woman enjoys her food.”
He added cheese to the omelet, realizing how stupid what he’d just said had to have sounded. He was completely out of practice talking with women, and certainly wasn’t used to flirting with them. Not that he was trying to flirt with Caitlyn. Not at all. Especially after last night. That kiss had totally thrown him for a loop.
“Sorry,” he said. “That came out completely wrong. I already told you, most of my family are farmers, so that means we always enjoy eating. Big breakfasts are the norm. Biscuits, gravy, bacon and sausage, hash browns, pancakes, and real maple syrup . . . That’s all I meant.”
Her sleepy smile only managed to shoot another hole through his heart. “You’re fine.”
“Toast?” he asked.
“One, please.”
He dropped a slice of multigrain bread into the toaster. “Did you get any sleep? Your light was on late, and I was hoping you weren’t still working and had just fallen asleep.”
“To be honest, despite your orders, I ended up tossing and turning, so I went through the files again.” She shot him a sheepish grin. “I think I finally dozed off around two, until I started smelling bacon sizzling and decided I was hungry.”
He laughed. “And your arm? How is it feeling?”
She slipped into the bar seat. “It’s a bit achy, but I took some more Tylenol before coming out here. Hopefully that will keep the pain under control.”
“I can change the bandage as soon as we’re done with breakfast. We’re going to have to really watch for infection until we can get you to a real doctor.”
He was enjoying the small talk between them, if only for the fact that it helped him avoid the topic of last night’s kiss. He’d crossed a line, and even though it wasn’t something he could take back, he’d spent most of the night wishing he could.
The toast popped up and he pulled it out and buttered it before setting it on the plate in front of her. “There’s jam to your left.”
“Quinton outdid himself,” she said, reaching for it. “He managed to arrange everything, and the ocean view’s not too bad either. I just wish we were here to enjoy it under different circumstances.”
“He’s a good man. A good partner.”
“Something I’m extremely grateful for.”
“Me too.” He hesitated, looking for the right words. “Listen . . . I feel like I need to apologize again about last night.”
She looked up at him. “Let’s just forget the whole thing happened, Josh. Seriously. Stress is already high enough, and we don’t need to add to it by worrying about an innocent kiss. It’s fine. We’re fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am. Really. I don’t want things to become awkward between us. There are too many other things going on that are far more important.”
“I agree.” He wasn’t sure it was possible to simply forget what had happened, but he decided to take her at her word and let the subject drop. For now, anyway.
He slid her omelet onto a plate, added three pieces of bacon out of the microwave, then pushed the food in front of her.
“I’m impressed,” she said, picking up the fork.
“Don’t be.” He started making an omelet for himself. “For the most part, my cooking skills are limited to omelets, pasta, and the grill. Oh, and I can make a killer batch of chocolate chip cookies.”
“I would never turn down a chocolate chip cookie. You’ll have to let me sample yours someday.”
He let out a chuckle, but the thought of them seeing each other once this was over was heading into dangerous territory.
She held up her fork. “This really is delicious.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d approve.”
He watched his own eggs sizzle. If he was going to forget about what happened between them, he was going to have to keep their conversation strictly business. “Were you able to find out anything else?”
“I was, actually.” Her smile vanished. “Between Helen’s notes and the files I downloaded from the lab, I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out exactly what’s going on.”
“Okay . . .” He felt a surge of adrenaline spike through him. If she’d managed to come up with concrete evidence of what was going on, they were going to be that much closer to ending all of this.
Caitlyn started slathering on a thick layer of raspberry jam. “When I first read through Helen’s lab notes, I mentioned to you the problem with a virulent virus she wrote about and how that could potentially be the base for a bioweapon.”
“Right.”
“Most of the vaccines we have today work because not only do they keep an individual from getting sick, they also stop the virus from being transferred to someone else, which is a crucial part of the development. The problem comes when a new vaccine might protect the host, but instead of stopping the virus from being transferred to someone else, it still allows transmission. Researchers call this a leaky vaccine.” She took a bite of bacon, giving him time to process the information. “With a leaky vaccine, you can end up with a virulent virus that continues to survive and spread, often evolving into an even more deadly strain that could be fatal for anyone not protected by the original vaccine.”
He worked to wrap his mind around what she was saying. “So the vaccine could itself actually generate a more lethal strain of the virus and make things worse.”
“Exactly. And one of the greatest risks would be toward those who are not vaccinated. An example would be one of a number of diseases like HIV and malaria that already cause problems with the body’s immune system. Or a disease like Ebola that already has an extremely high fatality rate. If a leaky vaccine is created for these—one that doesn’t stop the transmission of the disease or ensure any resulting virulent strains are not eradicated—you have a recipe for a very serious situation.”
“So it sounds like this is as bad as we first feared.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“And could something like this be used as some kind of bioweapon?”
“Combined with a corruptible researcher and the right buyer . . . definitely.”
He added cheese to his eggs, folded them in half, then waited a few more seconds for them to finish cooking. “That’s a lot to take in.”
“I agree.” She rested her fork against the plate. “Often when misconduct cases surface, they center around fabricated data and inconsistencies in the methods, but the motivation behind this seems different.”
He glanced up at her. “Meaning?”
“Meaning scientific fraud and misconduct usually stem from financial greed, or because someone wants recognition in a competitive field, but they’re not necessarily out to hurt someone. This is a whole different ball game. It’s clearly financially motivated, of course, but it could be politically motivated as well. And what scares me is what will happen if this research is misused and whoever’s behind it doesn’t care.” She pushed her plate away and looked up at him. “This goes way beyond Olivia’s and Helen’s deaths and even our safety.”
He tried to fight the sick feeling in his stomach. Trying not to wonder what he could have done differently that might have changed this outcome.
Caitlyn leaned forward. “This has to go to the authorities, Josh. Because while I still haven’t found out exactly how far their research has gone, it’s clear to me that the potential is disastrous. If implemented, whoever is backing this could kill thousands of unvaccinated people in a short period of time, and if it in turn evolved into an even hotter viral strain, the fallout would be devastating worldwide.”
He stared out the window overlooking the ocean. The tide was out, exposing a long strip of sand where a family was playing in the water. How many could be affected by this? Hundreds? Thousands?
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah . . .” He shifted his gaze back to her. “I’m just trying to process all of this. I’ve spent the last year trying to accept the fact that Olivia wasn’t coming back. That she was killed in some horrible burglary gone wrong. But to finally understand exactly what she stumbled into and why they killed her, it’s just . . .” He let out a sharp breath of air. “I feel like I’m having to relive her death all over again. I just have so many questions. Like why Olivia didn’t go straight to the authorities over this if she knew what was going on.”
“I’m not sure it was that straightforward for her. We dove into this after a pattern emerged, but she would have only seen the inconsistencies she questioned. On top of that, there are certain protocols set in place for situations like this before you even go to a colleague or supervisor.”
“So when she started asking questions, she probably wouldn’t have had any idea what she was dealing with.”
“I don’t think so. In order to protect herself, she would have first made sure she had enough information before she started throwing out accusations. Once she believed she had enough information, she probably would have gone either to the person she believed to be behind this, or the research integrity officer.”
“I just wish she would have come to me.”
“I know and I’m sorry. The fallout of this—all because of someone’s greed—has already hurt so many people.”
Josh’s phone went off and he wiped his hands on the dish towel before picking it up and reading the text, his appetite gone. “It’s Eddie. Looks like he found out a few things about Jigsaw.”
“Anything we can use?” she asked.
“I think so. He found out that a couple years ago, four men were arrested and charged for brokering sales of black-market prescription drugs. Authorities never arrested the fifth man—their leader—but Eddie’s sources confirmed it was Jigsaw—Shawn Stover. He’s trying to track him down right now.”
“So Jigsaw has ties to the black market.”
Josh nodded. “Eddie said if you need a buyer, he’s your man. And here’s the other thing. Turns out that Stover was the other man in the photos with assistant DA Hayward.”
“So he’s also that man who was following us.” Caitlyn’s eyes widened. “Does he know how Hayward got involved in all of this?”
“I don’t know, but he was the state prosecutor in Olivia’s case.”
She glanced at the computer and notes lying next to her on the bar. “Well, all we have to do now is track down a vaccine that can be used to create a lethal human virus and sold on the black market and figure out Stover and Hayward’s connection to all of this.”
His phone rang, and he checked the caller ID before answering. “Quinton?”
“Josh . . . I don’t know how, but they found you. You need to get out of there—now.”