“Chase. Wait a minute.” Pitman had sneaked up on her so quietly, Chase questioned if she’d actually seen him leave at all. Her heart, which was already going at a decent clip, picked up its pace.
“Yes?”
“Sit.”
God damn it. Why is this guy always telling me to sit down?Chase did as she was told, sitting in one of the leather conference chairs, picking at the skin under her thumbnail like she usually did when she was uncomfortable. She had no question what this was about. Pitman was about to chastise her for her late entrance.
“I’m sending you down South.”
Chase’s mouth opened wide, her fists still clenched in tight balls at the anticipation of a scolding. After a long silence, she finally answered. “Like, permanently?”
Pitman laughed. “No. Not permanently. I’m sending you with the H7J1 team. Listen, I know you’re relatively new here, but you’re good. You have a lot of drive, and you’re a damn good ID doctor. Besides, I think it’ll be helpful for John to have someone who’s a little…fresher than he is down there with him.”
“Are you… Is this for real?” Chase shook her head, the dread that had been following her all morning shifting quickly to sheer exhilaration.
“It’s for real. Can you tell me you’re up for it?” Pitman narrowed his heavy silver brow at her, his eyes serious and questioning.
“Yes, sir. I’m very much up for it. When do I leave?” Chase realized she probably sounded a little too eager, but she couldn’t help herself. Fieldwork was all she’d ever wanted to do. And now was her chance.
“Tomorrow morning. You and John have a six a.m. flight to New Orleans. We’ll send a car to get you. And remember, this isn’t school anymore, Chase. People are sick and dying out there. A lot of them too. Real people. I need to know I can count on you to not freak out.”
“I won’t freak out. I promise. I’m ready for this. I’ve been ready for this.” Chase was nearly bouncing out of her chair.
“Good. Then finish your work here and get some rest. You’re going to need it.”
Chapter Two
Norah kept a single duffel bag packed in the rear of her closet at all times. In it were three changes of clothes (including two sets of fatigues and a pair of jeans and a T-shirt), a spare cell-phone charger, and select toiletries. She had very little in the way of attachments in Atlanta, or anywhere really, and that was exactly how she liked it. The last two people Norah had allowed herself to get close to either died or left her. Davey was gone—her only brother whittled down to nothing more than a folded flag on her fireplace and a headstone back in Virginia she’d never visited. And Chase…well, the memory wasn’t even worth entertaining.
The closest thing Norah had to family or a friend was probably Mrs. Brooks, her eighty-six-year-old neighbor who lived across the hall. Ever the nosey old lady, Mrs. Brooks had been lurking around her doorway when Norah moved in several years ago. She was a bit intrusive, that was true. But she had also turned out to be quite good company and baked a mean banana bread for Norah on a semi-regular basis. Whenever Norah was called away for the weekend, sometimes longer, she left Pumpkin with Mrs. Brooks, who was always more than happy to oblige. Norah was quite certain Pumpkin had grown to like Mrs. Brooks more than her anyway, and by the time she always came to pick him up, he offered her little more than a halfhearted mew and what she swore was an eye roll.
Briggs was sending her to Louisiana at the crack of dawn the following morning. As her unit’s most experienced infectious-disease doctor, Norah was hardly surprised to receive the assignment. Especially when she heard the CDC was already heading down there. The CDC’s medical unit and the military ID doctors were usually locked in a tight head-butting session as soon as any new or exciting disease emerged. It was always the same—the CDC wanted to collect data, find a cure, be the heroes. And the military wanted to hang tightly onto whatever potential biological weapon they might be able to manufacture from nature’s best defenses. Norah was hardly looking forward to weeks, maybe longer, of a political wrestling match with some nerd from the CDC. Still, she did love being in the field. It was why she had decided to accept her infectious-disease fellowship in the first place, preferably at the highly sought-after Georgetown program. Of course, Chase Durgin had kept that from happening.
Mrs. Brooks answered her door after several loud knocks, and Norah breathed her usual sigh of relief. She worried, and not infrequently, that one of these days she’d be the one to find poor Mrs. Brooks stiff on the living-room floor. Aside from the general unpleasantness of a neighbor dying, Norah had become very fond of her and their Sunday night cocktails and puzzles. Though Norah tried to keep a firm distance from everyone, Mrs. Brooks was special, and Norah silently dreaded the day she’d have to say good-bye to her too.
“Hello, dear. Bringing Pumpkin for a visit, I assume?” Mrs. Brooks was always dressed to the nines, her thinning white hair done up in tight curls with a colorful geometric necklace around her neck and a fur shawl around her shoulders.
“Do you mind? I’m sorry.” Pumpkin let out a howl of approval from Norah’s arms.
“Of course not. Where are you off to this time?”
“Louisiana. I’m not sure how long. This one might be a while. Are you sure it’s all right? If he’s any trouble—”
Mrs. Brooks waved her hand dismissively. “Please. He’s never any trouble. And how about you? How are you doing?”
Norah shrugged. “Fine. You know I’m fine.”
“Do you want to come in? I just put a pot of coffee on.”
“Banana bread?” Norah smiled, and Mrs. Brooks held the door open.
“Don’t you know me at all?”
Olivia didn’t usually come over two nights in a row. It was an unspoken agreement that both she and Chase needed their own time, and a lot of it. She helped herself to a bottle of beer from Chase’s fridge and sat on one of the bar stools next to where Chase stood staring out the window.
“Why am I here, Chase?” Olivia closed her arms around Chase’s hips and rested her cheek against her stomach. Chase ran a hand through her thick, short hair.
“I’m leaving tomorrow. For a while, probably.”
