She didn’t answer. She was probably in the elevator.
He selected a fresh shirt and tie that were understated but should show up well on camera. With the stipulation that it would be for private viewing only, the Hunts had granted him permission to make a video, with his narration, as Richard was getting the infusion.
Although after Richard became a first in medical history, they might change their minds about keeping it from the public. Nate surmised that they would want to milk it for all it was worth. In which case, he would have documentation.
After checking his reflection in the mirror one last time, he went back into his office. He set the black box on his desk and was pulling on his suit jacket when he heard carpet-muffled footsteps approaching the door.
Brynn. He pulled open the door and was about to say, It’s about time, but the words died on his lips. He blinked several times in bafflement.
One of the two uniformed men said, “Dr. Nathan Lambert?”
“Yes. Who are you? What do you want?”
“I’m Deputy Wilson. Rawlins,” he said of his companion. “We spoke to you on the phone in the wee hours this morning.” He then aimed his finger beyond Nate’s shoulder toward the desk. “What we want is to take a second look inside that box.”
Nate’s knees turned to jelly. “I was just on my way out. Can this keep?”
“I’m afraid not,” Wilson said. “We’ve come all the way from Howardville to see you.”
Nate crossed his arms. “Which brings me to my second question. Aren’t you out of your jurisdiction?”
“We called ahead to the DeKalb County Sheriff’s Office. They’re aware of why we’re here.”
“Well then, the sheriff’s office is one up on me,” Nate said. “I thought we had cleared up this issue over the phone.”
“We did, too.” Those were the first words out of Rawlins’s mouth, but Nate had been uncomfortably aware of the deputy’s suspicious scrutiny. “The situation has grown more serious.”
“How so?”
“To start with, Brady White has—”
“Who is Brady White?”
“The man who was assaulted at the airfield.”
“Ah, I don’t recall ever having been given his name. Proceed.”
Rawlins waited a beat or two. “Mr. White’s condition hasn’t improved all that much.”
“I’m terribly sorry to hear that,” Nate said. “But it still doesn’t explain why you’ve come to me.”
“Reason we’ve come to you is because if Mr. White doesn’t make it, then Rye Mallett and your colleague Dr. O’Neal are upped to material witnesses in a homicide investigation. And, by extension, you.”
“Me?”
Wilson used the hat he held in his hand to point toward Nate’s desk. “That’s your box, and we think it contributed to the motive of whoever assaulted Mr. White.”
Nate’s palms began to sweat, but he maintained his imperious expression. “I can accept that this Mallett character might very well be involved in criminal activity. But Brynn O’Neal? Never.”
Rawlins said, “Even though it runs in her family?”
“Criminal activity?”
“Her father. He has a record as long as your arm.”
Nate’s ears began to buzz. “I wouldn’t know that, because I know nothing of Brynn’s personal history. She and I are nothing more than colleagues. Not family, not really friends. Our patients occasionally overlap, requiring us to consult on their diagnoses and treatments. That’s the extent of our relationship.”
The two deputies exchanged a look. Even to Nate, that had sounded like cover-your-ass backpedaling.
Rawlins asked, “When’s the last time you saw her?”
Nate looked at his watch and only then realized how much time had passed since Brynn had gone down to the garage. “She returned from Howardville around four-thirty. She and I are due to begin testing the blood samples right away. That’s where I’m off to.”
“So…?” Wilson looked past him. “She here?”
“In the building, yes. But she was summoned down to the parking garage to deal with the return of her car.”
The officers exchanged another look, a convention he found annoying. “What?”
“Dr. O’Neal’s car is still hooked up to the tow truck, waiting for the body shop in Howardville to reopen after the holiday weekend. Monday, seven a.m.”
Blood rushed to Nate’s head. He would kill her. He would absolutely eviscerate her and hang her carcass out to dry.
“Then she lied to me,” he said. “She received a text and dashed out. All I know about it is that she arrived here at—”
“How?”
“How what?”
“How did she arrive?”
“An interested party had sent a car and driver to bring her back to Atlanta.”
“Did this driver drive a black Mercedes?”
“I don’t know.”
“License plate number—”
“I don’t know. I didn’t make the arrangements.”
“Who’s the interested party?”
“My patient. Whose life is hanging in the balance while you’re asking irrelevant questions about motor vehicles.”
“Did you see the driver?”
“He escorted Brynn to this door.”
“Big Hispanic guy? Little fellow with him?”
“That’s them. The pilot was also tagging along.” Nate didn’t conceal his low regard for Rye Mallett as he told them about the FAA-required signature. “To be frank, I think he made it up.”
“What for?”
“First off, to be ornery. And possibly because he was hounding Brynn. He and she had a tryst.”
“In a cabin,” Wilson said. “We know about it.”
Nate sniffed. “It demonstrated a disturbing lack of discrimination and judgment on her part. Which is why someone was sent to retrieve her.”
“Her, or the box?”
“Both. You know about its importance.”
“I’m not sure we do.”
“I explained it to you this morning.”
Rawlins said, “Yeah, but we’d like to take another look inside.”
“I can’t risk exposing the contents to light and air again until I’m in a sterile environment.”
“Fine. We’re free now.” Rawlins motioned down the hallway toward the elevator. “Is your car in the garage here? I’ll ride with you. Wilson can follow us.”
Nate tried to conceal his alarm. Meanwhile his mind was darting about in search of an excuse. He took a deep breath and drew himself up. “Gentlemen, Brynn’s conduct this morning is uncharacteristic of the professional I know. But I don’t believe for a moment that she was involved in any law-breaking activity last night, or today, or at any time, although I don’t have the same confidence in the integrity of the man with whom she shared several hours in a cabin.
“I’m certain that Brynn will soon come to her senses and resume her responsibilities to our patient. If she doesn’t, she’ll suffer consequences which could impact her professional future. I have a substantial amount of influence at the medical facility with which we’re both affiliated.”
He looked at his watch, then shot his cuffs.
“Now, I appreciate your commitment to your duty. I admire you for conducting such a thorough investigation into the assault on Mr. White. But, presently, you really must excuse me. I have an appointment.”
“And we have a search warrant,” Rawlins said.
Nate’s sphincter clenched. “You have a search warrant?”
“For the box.”
“Wh…why did you feel it necessary to obtain a search warrant on Thanksgiving night?”
“Because we thought you might balk.”
“I beg your pardon. I do not balk.”
“Sheriff’s office here cooperated,” Wilson said. “We stopped at the judge’s house to get the warrant signed.”
Rawlins produced it from an inside breast pocket of his puffer jacket, unfolded it, and held it out for Nate to read. “Open the box, Dr. Lambert.”
The more he protested, the worse it would look for him. Recognizing that, he backed into the office and motioned them toward the desk. Trying to keep his hands steady, he scrolled the dials on the padlock and opened it. He raised the metal lid.
Rawlins pulled on a pair of latex gloves and methodically removed the sealed test tubes, examining each one before placing it on the desk, leaving four circular cutouts in the foam.