Toxin (46 page)

“To say the least,” Kelly said. “A year ago he could have been a posterboy for American success. As a heart surgeon, he had it all: respect, a beautiful family, a big home, all the trappings.”

“But it was a house of cards,” Edgar said.

“Apparently,” Kelly said. She sighed. “What's with Caroline? Did she get her homework done?”

“Mostly,” Edgar said. “But she wasn't feeling too good and wanted to go to bed.”

“What's the trouble?” Kelly asked. It was rare for Caroline to miss her TV.

“Nothing overwhelming,” Edgar assured her. “Just some stomach upset with cramps. She probably ate too much and too quickly. She insisted we stop at an Onion Ring restaurant after her skating practice, and the place was mobbed. I'm afraid her eyes were bigger than her stomach. She ordered two burgers, a shake, and a large fries.”

Kelly felt an uncomfortable stirring in the pit of her stomach.

“Which Onion Ring?” Kelly asked hesitantly.

“The one out on Prairie Highway,” Edgar said.

“Do you think Caroline is already asleep?” Kelly asked.

“I wouldn't know for sure,” Edgar said. “But she hasn't been up there very long.”

Kelly put down her juice. She left the room and climbed the stairs. Her face reflected her anxiety. She stopped to listen outside of Caroline's room. Once again, all she could hear was the clicking of the computer keyboard drifting up from downstairs.

Quietly Kelly cracked the door. The room was dark.
Opening the door further, she stepped inside and silently walked over to her daughter's bedside.

Caroline was fast asleep. Her face looked particularly angelic. Her breathing was deep and regular.

Kelly resisted the temptation to reach out and hug her daughter. Instead she just stood there in the semidarkness, thinking about how much she loved Caroline and how much Caroline meant to her. Such thoughts made her feel acutely vulnerable. Life was indeed a house of cards.

Backing out of the room, Kelly closed the door and descended the stairs. She returned to the library, collected her juice glass, and sat down on the leather couch. She cleared her throat.

Edgar looked over. Knowing Kelly as well as he did, he knew she wanted to talk. He switched off his computer.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It's the Dr. Reggis story,” Kelly said. “I'm not satisfied with it. I said as much to the news director, but he overruled me, saying it was tabloid fodder not hard news and that I wasn't supposed to waste any more time on it. But I'm going to do it anyway.”

“Why do you feel this way?” Edgar asked.

“There are some gnawing loose ends,” Kelly said. “The biggest one involves a USDA inspector by the name of Marsha Baldwin. When Kim Reggis stopped here on Sunday, he told me that he thought the woman had disappeared. He implied that foul play may have been involved.”

“I assume you have been looking for her,” Edgar said.

“Sort of,” Kelly admitted. “I really didn't take Kim Reggis too seriously. As I told you, I thought he'd gone over the edge after his daughter's death. I mean, he'd been acting bizarre and according to him the woman had
only been missing for a few hours. Anyway I attributed his allegations to raving paranoia.”

“So you haven't found the woman,” Edgar said.

“No, I haven't,” Kelly said. “Monday I made a few isolated calls, but I wasn't really into it. But today I called the USDA district office. When I asked about her, they insisted I talk to the district manager. Of course I didn't mind talking to the head honcho, but then he didn't give me any information. He just said that they hadn't seen her. After I hung up, I thought that it was curious that I had to speak to the head of the office to get that kind of information.”

“It is curious,” Edgar admitted.

“I called up later and asked specifically where she'd been assigned,” Kelly said. “Guess where?”

“I haven't a clue,” Edgar said.

“Mercer Meats,” Kelly said.

“Interesting,” Edgar said. “So how are you going to go about investigating all this?”

“I don't know yet,” Kelly said. “Of course I'd love to find the doctor. Seems like I've always been chasing him.”

“Well, I've learned to respect your intuition,” Edgar said. “So go for it.”

“One other thing,” Kelly said. “Keep Caroline out of the Onion Ring restaurants, particularly the one on Prairie Highway.”

“How come?” Edgar asked. “She loves the food.”

“For the moment, let's just say it's my intuition.”

“You'll have to tell her yourself,” Edgar said.

“I don't have a problem with that,” Kelly said.

The door chimes surprised both of them. Kelly glanced at her watch. “Who's here ringing our bell at eight o'clock on a Tuesday?” she questioned.

“Beats me,” Edgar said, while getting to his feet. “Let me get it.”

“Be my guest,” Kelly said.

Kelly rubbed her temples as she gave more thought to Edgar's question about how she would look into this Reggis situation. Without the doctor, it wasn't going to be easy. She tried to remember everything Kim had said when he'd visited on Sunday.

Out in the front hall she heard Edgar talking with someone and being told where to sign. A few minutes later, he returned. He was clutching a manila envelope, staring at the label.

“You got a package,” he said. He shook it. Something was moving around freely inside.

“Who's it from?” Kelly asked. She didn't like getting mystery packages.

“There's no return address,” Edgar said. “Just the initials KR.”

“KR,” Kelly repeated. “Kim Reggis?”

Edgar shrugged. “I suppose it's possible.”

“Let me see it,” Kelly said.

Edgar handed her the package. She felt through the paper. “Well, it doesn't feel dangerous. It feels like a reel of something padded with paper.”

“Go ahead and open it,” Edgar said.

Kelly tore open the envelope and pulled out a bunch of official-looking forms and a recording tape. Attached to the top of the tape was a Post-it. On it was written:
Kelly, You asked for documentation, and here it is. I'll be in touch. Kim Reggis.

“These are all papers from Higgins and Hancock,” Edgar said. “With attached descriptions.”

Kelly shook her head as she scanned the material. “I have a feeling my investigation just got off to a flying start.”

Wednesday, February 11
th

T
he dilapidated, recycled UPS van coughed and sputtered, but the engine kept going. The van climbed a gradual incline after fording across a small stream.

“By golly, that's the deepest that crick's been since I've been in these parts,” Bart Winslow said. He and his partner, Willy Brown, were driving along an isolated country road, trying to get back to the main road after picking up a dead pig. It had been raining for almost two days, and the road was awash and the potholes full of muddy water.

“I been thinking,” Bart said, after spitting some tobacco juice out the driver's-side window. “Benton Oakly's not going to have much of a farm if his cows keep getting the runs like the one we picked up before the pig.”

“Sure as shootin',” Willy said. “But you know, this one's not much sicker than the one we picked up a month
ago. What do you say we take it to the slaughterhouse like we did the other one?”

“I suppose,” Bart said. “The problem is we gotta drive all the way out to the VNB slaughterhouse in Loudersville.”

“Yeah, I know,” Willy said. “That TV lady got Higgins and Hancock to close for a couple of weeks for some kind of investigation.”

“Well, the good part is that VNB is a hell of a lot less choosey than Higgins and Hancock,” Bart said. “Remember that time we sold them those two cows deader than a Thanksgiving turkey right out of the oven?”

“Sure do,” Willy said. “When you reckon Higgins and Hancock gonna reopen?”

“I hear by Monday next 'cause they didn't find nothing but a handful of illegal aliens,” Bart said.

“Figures,” Willy said. “So what you think about this cow we got?”

“Let's do it,” Bart said. “Fifty bucks is better'n twenty-five in anybody's book.”

A
basic requirement for the pursuit of happiness is good health, and the minimum requirement for good health is clean water and uncontaminated food. Human beings as a civilization have been struggling with the former since urbanization. Only in recent times has civil engineering led to sustainable solutions. Tragically, the circumstance with the latter is the opposite. After significant technological progress with food preservation, particularly in regard to refrigeration, we have been losing ground due to the pressure for increased food quantity and lower prices. Intensive farming and animal rearing practices have actually created new, frightful forms of contamination and threaten to spawn more. It is a problem that cries out for attention. For those people who would like to learn more about this serious situation and the havoc it wreaks, I strongly recommend they read:

 

Fox, Nicols,
Spoiled: What Is Happening to Our Food
Supply and Why We Are Increasingly at Risk
(Basic Books, 1997; Penguin, 1998).

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

The Penguin Putnam Inc. World Wide Web site address is
http://www.penguinputnam.com