Edge of Black (Dr. Samantha Owens #2)

It wasn’t lost on her that she was also still within the window of showing symptoms; hell, during the attack she was on top of ground zero. She could have been exposed and didn’t know it yet. The thought made her pulse pick up, and she immediately lifted a hand to her forehead. If she was going to manifest symptoms, they’d be similar to what Brooke showed yesterday in Sam’s classroom: lethargy, fever, cough, respiratory distress.

Her forehead was cool to the touch, and she felt a bit of relief. Since there was no documentation that she was aware of about the toxin being used in an attack of this nature, it was quite possible that the only way to be fully exposed was to be in the Metro at the moment it was released.

She heard Nocek tapping on a computer keyboard, most likely pulling up the information on the plant.

“You are correct in all of your assumptions. I am very impressed, Samantha.”

She flushed with pleasure. It was nice to have an attagirl from a man she respected.

So one part of the mystery solved. Now she had to move on to parts two through six, and find out where Xander had rushed off to.

“Amado, I need to ask you one more favor, and I need you to not ask me why.”

“It would be my pleasure. Anything for you.”

“Can you grab a blood sample from the congressman and send it for DNA typing? With an emergency return?”

“Of course. Would you like me to disguise the name so there are no red flags raised?”

Sam smiled. “Yes, I would. And thank you.”

“You will be interested to learn, perhaps, that you are not the first person to request something private from the congressman today.”

“Really? Who else wants DNA?”

Nocek cleared his throat. “Not DNA in particular, though that would certainly be a by-product. No, the request was for fluids of a more...personal nature.”

Sam immediately knew what he was talking about. “Please tell me it was the wife asking.”

“Yes. That is correct.”

“Did you give it to her?”

“I did. She was in possession of a judicial order. I warned her there were no guarantees of strength or vitality, though it most likely was in time.”

“Now that is one of the most interesting things I’ve heard all day. Do you think the semen could have been tainted by the abrin, assuming he tests positive?”

“I do not know how quickly it moves through a body. That will be something for a geneticist to examine. As I understand it, the matériel was needed for an in vitro harvest procedure expected to take place two days hence.”

“Wow. Quick thinking in the middle of the kind of grief she must be feeling.”

“She was quite calm, actually. Upset, but determined.”

God. Sam felt sorry for Mrs. Leighton. Not only losing your husband, but your chance of having his child, especially in the midst of the horror that was preparation for in vitro fertilization. It was quick thinking to gather his semen for the procedure. Generally, sperm had a window of about twelve to thirty-six hours where it could successfully be harvested postmortem unless special precautions were taken. Sam had never been faced with the situation Nocek was describing, but she’d certainly heard other medical examiners talk of it. It didn’t often work, but there had been cases where successful live births had been reported. It was normally a very gray ethical area that resulted in court orders and the like, which took so much time it damaged the chances of getting usable sperm.

But there was a science for everything these days.

Sam made a mental note to share that tidbit with Fletcher. Talk about something that would extend the news cycle on Leighton’s death for yet another week. The man’s life grew more complex by the hour. Pervert, serial killer, about to be a father again, dead in a terrorist attack.

Too many facets, too many coincidences.

“Amado, I need to run. Thank you for everything.”

“I will let you know what I am able to discern. Be well, Samantha.”

“And you.” She hung up just as George returned to his boss’s office with her tea.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Two things. I’d like to get to know Dr. Ledbetter. Would you mind if we looked through her photographs, and you can share some of her stories with me?”

George gave her a wistful smile. “Of course. That might actually be helpful for me, to say goodbye. Let me get you set up in the conference room. It will be easier to project them onto the screen instead of both of us hunched over her laptop. What’s the second?”

“I’d like to talk to her daughter.”

At that, George pulled up short. “Um, that might be harder to manage. They were estranged.”

“Oh. I saw her post on Facebook earlier about her mother’s death. I didn’t get the sense that she was anything but a grieving daughter.”

George coughed out a dry, sarcastic laugh. “Grieving, no. Celebrating is more like it.”

“Why?”

He waved his hand around. “All of this? Everything Loa had, her money, her holdings, her business? All of it goes to Loa the younger.”

“Really. How much are we talking?” Sam asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “In the neighborhood of twenty million, give or take. Which is criminal considering how much she hates her mother.”

“Whoa.”

“Yes. So now you understand. That’s about twenty-million reasons to want your mother dead.”





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