Edge of Black (Dr. Samantha Owens #2)

“Ma’am?”


“Andi. You left a few things out. We need to hear it all. We don’t operate like some of the folks you may have worked with. We must investigate all the angles, all the issues, all the rumors and innuendoes. We are life detectives, in a sense. Nothing is safe, absolutely nothing. Nothing is sacred if it means stopping these bastards from hurting another person. So give it to us, and give it straight this time.”

Fletcher ignored the small, humor-filled cough that emanated from behind and to the right of his shoulder. Perhaps Andrea Bianco was more of a force to be contended with than she first appeared. The friendly welcome was a guise, he saw. Inside, she was hard and unforgiving as a chalky cliff.

He took a breath and started again. At the top. He detailed what he’d left out, which was precious little. Bianco sat in her bird pose and watched him, listening, again, and when he stopped she gave him a curt smile, then stood. The room’s focus moved to her, and she began to speak. Her voice was infused with passion.

“Thank you. I appreciate that you were uncomfortable gossiping about the congressman. But everything matters right now. We have an interesting situation on our hands. The attack this morning caught everyone by surprise. That, in and of itself, is somewhat miraculous, considering how well plugged in we are to all the terrorist networks. There have been claims of responsibility from groups we’ve had under close scrutiny, which leads me to doubt the veracity of their claims.

“There is more than meets the eye in our attack this morning. The head of the Armed Services Subcommittee is dead, along with two others. Many people are sick, but none are dying. The tests that have been run have narrowed the toxin to something biologically similar to ricin. We have a thousand people working this case, and it’s going nowhere. There are two groups forming, one to investigate what happened, one to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Prevention is the biggest tool the JTTF has, and we failed this morning. I won’t let us fail again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this attack is a stain on our character. I don’t believe that it’s a terrorist cell. I think it’s a lone renegade cell, independent, self-actualized, and far from finished. My bosses don’t agree with me, so it is our mandate to prove them wrong. With their approval, we are going to work separately from the rest of the JTTF, go at this from a different angle. Nick, Ron and Hyatt, you are on the Metro. Figure out how the toxin was delivered. I want a step-by-step, moment-by-moment breakdown. Eduardo, I want you to compile a list of possible threats that focuses on the United States. Tom, you’re our scientist. I want you to assess what the toxin is, where it came from, everything.” She turned to Fletcher. “Darren, you’re with me. Any questions?”

Silence.

“Good. Brief me at ten. Go to it.”

The others gathered their things and scooted out of the room. Bianco watched them go. When they were the only ones left in the room, she excused Inez, who shot Fletcher a meaningful look and shut the conference room door behind her.

“So.” Bianco sat at the table and pulled out a red file folder. She placed it carefully in front of her, squared the edges with the table. “What do you think of my theory?”

“It’s as sound as anything else I’ve heard today.”

“Why did you bring in an outside medical examiner to do the autopsy on the congressman?”

“Like I said, she’s the best at what she does. That’s not a knock on our medical examiners, she’s just gifted. She thought it was a ricin hybrid, something new, something developed specifically for the attack.”

“You didn’t mention that.”

“She asked me not to. She didn’t want to speculate. Ricin-like was all she’d commit to officially, that ricin mimics the findings from the autopsies, but doesn’t match exactly.”

“All right. First things first. This is eyes-only.” She slid the file to him. “Read it. I’ll wait. You want some more coffee?”

He glanced at his empty cup and then at the wall clock. 3:15 a.m. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Andi,” she said, then left him to read.

He waited until the door shut, opened the file. The first line of the report made him suck in his breath.

Holy shit.





Chapter 13

Fletcher couldn’t believe what he was reading.

There was a DNA profile, a confirmed match between two identical sources. He read the name on the bottom of the page, and his suspicions began to grow.

The DNA profile belonged to Congressman Peter Dumfries Leighton.

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