Authors: Lisa Scottoline
“Yes,” Jill answered, finally validated.
“But you were wrong about one thing, Dr. Farrow.” Special Agent Donator seemed to soften, his face falling briefly into sharp lines. “Brian wasn’t trying to kill you. He was trying to protect you. He’s one of us.”
Chapter Fifty-eight
“Pardon me?” Jill asked, uncomprehending. “Brian is with the FBI?”
“No, he isn’t,” Victoria said, incredulous. “He’s a lawyer, not an FBI agent. He went to Georgetown Law Center.”
Special Agent Donator faced Victoria, his expression grim. “Ms. Skyler, Brian has been a federal agent since he graduated from Georgetown. His law degree makes him invaluable to us in the field, and he’s been working undercover. He blew his cover saving Dr. Farrow’s life.”
“Save me? What do you mean?” Jill flashed back to the silver and the gray cars, riding side-by-side, like a moving wall. “He was trying to run me off the road, with another car.”
“No, the silver car was trying to run you off the road. Brian was in the gray car, trying to run
them
off the road. We were in communication with him during the chase, right up until the crash.”
Jill blinked, shocked. “Then who was following me?”
“The man in the silver car, and we were following him. We have been, for some time. Successful prosecutions don’t get built overnight, no matter what you see on TV, and they don’t happen without dedication. Brian is one of the best young agents we have.”
Jill couldn’t process it fast enough. “He was trying to stop them? Why didn’t he try to shoot their tire, or them?”
“Shooting a tire in a residential area is too risky, at speed, and we can’t authorize the use of lethal force where non-lethal force can be employed. Brian trained in defensive driving techniques at the academy, and he assured us he could handle it. Unfortunately, he lost control of his car.”
Jill remembered the scene, just before she was hit. Special Agent Donator was right. “The silver car
was
the one tailgating.”
“Yes, and the silver car was the one that hit your bumper. It may have looked as if the two cars were working together, but they weren’t. Brian risked his life to save you, and by all accounts, he behaved in an exemplary fashion. We’re all pulling for his speedy recovery.” Special Agent Donator glanced down, working his jaw, and Special Agent Cohz cleared his throat. He was shorter, but equally fit-looking.
“Is Brian going to be okay?” Victoria asked, stepping over. “What do you know about his condition?”
“Not much we can share, at this point.” Special Agent Donator answered. “We’ll discuss it further after he gets out of surgery.”
Jill felt a wave of guilt. Her head throbbed, and exhaustion swept over her. She prayed that Brian would recover, quickly and completely. She couldn’t bear it if one more person died because of this scheme, or because of her. Then Jill realized that Sam had been wrong. If Brian hadn’t been trying to kill her, it meant that Victoria wasn’t involved with William’s death.
“Dr. Farrow, we’ll need to debrief you and take a complete statement. The investigation is being run out of D.C., but the team is waiting to meet us in New York. Please, get your things and come with us.”
“Sure.” Jill picked up her bag and slid the envelope inside, to look at in the car.
“I’d prefer to stay here,” Victoria said, flatly. “I’d like to see Brian when he gets out of surgery.”
Special Agent Donator turned to her, his brow knit. “Ms. Skyler, there are two special agents detailed to protect Brian as soon as he gets out of surgery, and he won’t be having any conversations, with you or anyone else. Countless manpower hours, federal dollars, and hard work went into this investigation, much of it from Brian himself. He’s going to get a commendation. He’s been undercover for a year.”
“Wait, hold on.” Victoria frowned. “That’s when we met. Is that a coincidence?” She faced Jill, in bewilderment. “Why did you ask me when we met, and how?”
Suddenly a minor commotion arose next door, on the other side of the patterned curtain, billowing to accommodate a wheelchair. “Oooh, my leg, help me, oooh, please,” wailed an elderly man in distress, as nurses tried to calm him, wheeling him into the examining room and lifting him onto the bed.
Special Agent Donator turned to Jill and Victoria. “Ladies, let’s go.”
“But, this is so awful,” Victoria said, shaken. “Brian lied to me? For a year?”
“Ms. Skyler, we’ll debrief you at the office.” Special Agent Donator pushed aside the curtain, Special Agent Cohz led the way, and Jill led Victoria out of the examining room.
“We’ll figure this all out together, honey.” Jill put a gentle arm around Victoria, but the girl didn’t reply, avoiding Jill’s eye as they fell into step, walking down the glistening hallway. Jill wanted to know the whole story about William, Zeptien, Nina, Martin, and Brian, though she felt terrible that it would bring Victoria’s world crashing down on her head.
But first, Jill wanted to know about Rahul.
Chapter Fifty-nine
Jill opened the envelope as soon she got in the backseat of the car, and Rahul’s bloodwork confirmed her worry. His white-blood-cell count showed a major bacterial infection, at 18,000 when it should have been between 5,000 and 15,000, and his smear explained why. Rahul didn’t have cancer or leukemia, but he had an immune deficiency that made him unable to fight infection properly, which was why he got so many ear infections and the pneumonia. Normal babies had four immunoglobulins, IgG, IgM, IgA, and IgE, but Rahul was missing IgE, which governed allergies, consistent with his family history.
“Oh no.” Jill moaned, scanning the rest of the results. The numbers showed that Rahul’s neutrophils were already shifting left, which meant they were leaving his bone marrow to fight infection before they were even mature cells. Jill felt a bolt of fear for the baby she adored, but went into emergency mode. Her plan was to hospitalize Rahul immediately and treat him aggressively with IV antibiotics, or the ear infection could spread to his bloodstream and turn septic.
Victoria looked over. “What’s the matter?”
“I have a very sick patient.” Jill caught the eye of Special Agent Donator in the rearview mirror. He was driving, and Special Agent Cohz was in the passenger seat, looking at some papers. “Gentlemen, I have to call the office now. We can talk afterwards.”
“Go right ahead.” Special Agent Donator nodded. “I’d rather wait until we get to the city to take your statement, anyway. The team needs to hear it, and you won’t have to tell it twice.”
“Good, thanks.” Jill was already scrolling through her BlackBerry. She found Donna’s email, pressed
SELECT
on Padma’s cell number, and hit
CALL
. It rang and rang, then went to voicemail. “Padma, it’s Dr. Farrow. I need to speak with you right away. It’s about Rahul’s bloodwork. Please call me immediately.” She left her cell number, then hung up and called the office.
“Pembey Family,” answered a woman’s voice. It was Sheryl.
“Sheryl, it’s Jill. I can’t reach Padma on the cell, and I see a major problem with Rahul’s bloodwork. I need her emergency contact numbers. Her husband’s in Afghanistan.”
“I know why she won’t take your call, I spoke with her. She fired us today. Is this how you grow the pediatric practice?”
Jill bit her tongue. “Now, I need—”
“I heard you were in a car accident, but I’ll have to dock you if you don’t come in tomorrow. I told Donna to tell you to call me, to discuss this.”
“She did. Sheryl, please give me the numbers.” Jill tried to keep her temper, glancing out the window, where the traffic was congested. They were approaching Newark Airport, and a line of silvery planes hung in the sky as if suspended on an invisible string, their wings glinting in the sun.
“Padma’s switching to Dr. Benson’s group. She asked that all future results be sent to him.”
“I don’t have the time to discuss this, Sheryl. This is an emergency. Get me numbers.”
“How dare you speak to me that way!”
Jill couldn’t take it another minute, and she raised her voice to say, “Tell you what, give me the numbers, and I won’t speak to you ever again.”
“You have to. You’re an employee.”
“I’m not an employee, I’m a
doctor
. And I quit. Now give me the numbers.”
“Fine. You’re required to give two weeks’ notice—”
“Give me the damn numbers!” Jill shouted. Victoria jumped, startled, and Special Agent Donator’s eyes flared in the rearview mirror.
“Be that way, Jill. I’m emailing them to you right now. I have an office, home, and cell for her father-in-law in Seattle. His name is Frank McCann. But I don’t know if he can reach Padma, because she left for Mumbai with the kids. Her mother had a heart attack.”
“Oh no.” Jill felt her heart race. “Mumbai, India?”
“No, Mumbai, Ohio. Yes, of course, India.”
“When did she go?”
“She left from here.”
“She can’t go to Mumbai with Rahul, that’s a twenty-four-hour flight. His system can’t take it, he’s already weak.”
“Really?” Sheryl asked, suddenly hushed. “She was worried it would hurt his ears, but she said she had to go. She said she’d give him some Tylenol.”
Jill thoughts raced. “The problem isn’t pain, it’s sepsis. In that amount of time, he could go into shock. They won’t be able to treat him on the plane, and he needs to be admitted. He could die.”
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Sheryl said, panicky. “What do we do?”
Victoria looked over, her hazel eyes wide. Special Agent Cohz glanced back at Jill. Special Agent Donator slid on aviator sunglasses.
“Sheryl, get a grip, and we’ll both call. We have to stop Padma. She can’t get on that plane. You hear me?”
“Oh my God, this is awful. What if he dies? What do I do? I don’t know what to do! The nurses are all gone, they’re all gone! I’m the only one here! What do I do?”
“Do what I say. Do it now. I will, too. Go and do.” Jill hung up, scrolled to email, found Sheryl’s, selected the father-in-law’s cell number, and pressed
CALL
. The cell rang and rang, then voicemail connected. “Mr. McCann, this is Dr. Farrow, Rahul’s pediatrician. Please tell Padma
not
to get on the plane to Mumbai. Your grandson has an infection that could prove fatal. This is a medical emergency. Please call me immediately.” Jill left her cell number and hung up, as Victoria turned to her.
“Jill, can I help?”
“Yes, you have your iPhone with you, don’t you?’
“Sure, yes.” Victoria started digging in her large black bag, bulging with stuff. “It’s in here somewhere. I use the same bag for classes, so I travel heavy.”
“Look on the Internet. See which airline has direct flights from Philly to Mumbai this afternoon. Get the flight while I try to get Rahul’s grandfather.”
“Okay.” Victoria pulled out a round hairbrush, a white earphone cord, and a zipped makeup case. A stick of cream blusher rolled out like a shiny black log, then a hot pink tube of mascara, her EpiPen, and her iPhone. “Here we go.” Victoria started tapping the touch screen. “Then what do I do, when I get the airline and flight?”
“See if you can find a phone number for the airline, then give me the phone.” Jill pressed Frank McCann’s work number, since that was a better bet than his home number at this hour. Outside the car, the traffic inched along, and a plane flew so low overhead that Jill almost ducked, reflexively.
Special Agent Donator leaned over to Special Agent Cohz. “We’ll never get there, this traffic keeps up,” he said, in low tones.
Special Agent Cohz shook his neat head. “Mick, take the way I showed you, to the tunnel. The exit’s up ahead.”
Jill held her phone while the call rang twice, then connected. “Is this Granger Accountants? My name is Dr. Jill Farrow, and this is a medical emergency. I need to speak with Frank McCann.”
“Sorry, he isn’t in,” a receptionist said. “What’s the nature of the emergency?”
“I treat his grandson Rahul, who I understand is flying with his daughter-in-law Padma to Mumbai, today. Rahul could go into septic shock during the flight, and I need to reach Padma as soon as possible and tell them not to get on the plane. Can Mr. McCann be reached? I tried his cell but he didn’t answer.”
“Oh no,” the receptionist said, alarmed. “He’s at a conference. All I can do is try his cell, too.”
“How about the hotel? Is he staying at a hotel? Where is the conference held?”
“I can’t give you that information, but I can try and get a message to him. I’ll try, I swear, but I can’t promise anything.”
“Please try, right away. Have him call me if he has any questions, but it’s imperative that he stop Padma. It’s a matter of life and death, for his grandson.” Jill left her cell number and thanked her, then hung up.
Victoria looked over at Jill, with strain showing all over her young face. “Jill, I have the flight, but it’s boarding in half an hour. It’s Continental, Flight 440.”
“Oh no.” Jill felt her pulse pick up. “Got a phone number?”
Victoria tapped away on the touch screen. “I see phone numbers for reservations and customer service.”
“Call reservations, press 0, and give me the phone when you reach a human being.”
“Okay.” Victoria pressed a number, then held the iPhone to her ear. “Damn it. I’m on hold, a ten-minute wait.”
“That’s too long.” Jill shifted forward toward the front seat. She had to try something else, fast. “Special Agent Donator, can you help me? The plane is about to board at Philadelphia airport, Continental Flight 440. Can you call TSA? Or can you call the Philadelphia police, or the airport police, and tell them not to let Padma Choudhury and her son board? Or can they hold the plane?”
“That’s not procedure, Dr. Farrow.” Special Agent Donator pursed his lips, and his sunglasses obscured his thoughts.
“Please, a baby’s life is at stake.” Jill leaned forward, ready to beg. “It couldn’t be more important.”
“Understood.” Special Agent Donator steered off the turnpike at the exit, then turned to Special Agent Cohz. “What do you think, Pete? It’s not kosher, but we could always call Sean, at the Philly bureau.”