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‘Is it important?’
‘My hips seem to think so. And my thighs.’
‘Not from where I’m standing.’
She met his gaze. It was only the briefest of seconds. Everything else around her seemed to fade into the background. All she could see was the cheeky twinkle in his eyes.
It panicked her. What did that mean? Was he joking with her or was he flirting with her?
Her friends may have given her a physical makeover but they hadn’t done anything to sort out her woolly brain. Academically she could rival most of her colleagues but as for being street smart or worldly wise, she was neither. Never had been—never would be.
Her shoulder was a permanent reminder of that. The tiny tip of the knife still embedded in her tissues caused havoc every time she was near an airport scanner. The ER doc had done the best he could. It had been bad night in the ER and a surgeon hadn’t been available. The tip was apparently right next to some nerves and unskilled removal could have resulted in damage. The scar was already going to be ugly, so she’d decided just to take the patch-up job, the antibiotics and go.
She tore her gaze away from Donovan’s as she felt heat spread into her cheeks. She’d already used up her day’s supply of sassiness on the desk clerk. As they moved along the line and grabbed coffee her eyes fixed on his well-worn jeans and slouchy T-shirt. Her fingers itched to touch it. It looked so soft, so comfortable—the kind of material that her pyjamas were normally made from.
She shifted on her heels. She’d felt a million dollars walking out the door tonight. It hadn’t even occurred to her that the team would travel casual. Her heart had sunk like a stone when she’d realised how inappropriately dressed she looked in comparison to everyone else. This was going to be a long flight.
They settled at a table in the airport lounge, Donovan pulling out his laptop.
‘This is what we know.’ He gave Grace a little nod. ‘Jessie Tanner, sixty-seven, reported to her physician five days ago. She had a whole range of symptoms that she claimed to have had for around three days. She was physically and mentally unwell. Dehydration, confusion, diarrhoea, and her skin was described as red and covered in bumps. Their initial diagnosis ranged from scarlet fever to measles then rubella. Her condition deteriorated very rapidly and she didn’t respond to treatment.’
‘Did we miss something with Ms Tanner? I don’t ever remember her reporting symptoms like those.’
Donovan shook his head. ‘She didn’t. Not in any of the phone calls to the DPA. We checked our records—she’s phoned us over four hundred times, for a whole variety of reasons.’
David and John let out simultaneous groans. John ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Why do we get all the crazies?’
Donovan didn’t acknowledge the comment, keeping focused on the facts. ‘Our last call from Jessie Tanner was actually seven days ago. She never reported any symptoms then, just asked a range of questions about the bats that were near her home.’ He lifted his eyes from the screen. ‘That seems to have been the norm for Ms Tanner. Unfortunately, it looks like she might not have been as crazy as it seems.’
Grace leaned forward. ‘What about the other patient—the child?’
Donovan paused, ‘Actually, as of one hour ago, it’s two patients. Since the provisional diagnosis by Frank, we sent an alert out to all medical centres. It seems that a maculopapular rash is appearing all over Northwest District in Florida. We still have the first child, an eight-year-old boy, but we also have a thirty-five-year-old woman.’
John took a deep breath. ‘An epidemic? Are we prepared for that?’
‘We’d better be.’
There was silence at the table as they all contemplated the words. It didn’t matter how much experience he had, it didn’t matter how many times he’d circled the globe to investigate some weird and deadly disease—in the DPA you were only as good as your last case. The truth here was he was investigating a disease he hadn’t encountered before, none of the team had. There was no magic cure or vaccination against Marburg virus. The sad fact was that surviving the virus could almost be down to luck. And Donovan hated it when things were left to unscientific rationales. He didn’t work like that.
Their flight number was called and Donovan stood up, grabbing his bag. The casual atmosphere in his team was gone. They were all too concerned about what they might face when they arrived.
Grace’s face was serious. He had to keep reminding himself this was her first fieldwork assignment. He had to stop thinking about what she’d looked like in the shower when the water had streamed down her soft skin and they’d been surrounded by steam...
No. Stop it. Be professional. Lots of new doctors thought they would love the fieldwork aspect of the DPA then quickly found out they hated every second. Things could be tough. Equipment wasn’t always available, local staff might not be sufficiently trained and communications back to the DPA could be sketchy.
He’d have to remember that. Once Donovan arrived on the job he tended to shut out everyone around him. His drive, single vision and extreme focus were the aspects of his character he relied on. Trouble was, he forgot about supporting those around him. He expected everyone just to do their jobs. He didn’t hand-hold. He didn’t have time for that. So Grace had better not expect it. He needed her to hit the ground running and concentrate on the task.
The flight took off smoothly. Grace sat next to John and spent the forty-five-minute flight time talking about the virus and reading up notes on her tablet. It was just as well she wasn’t next to him. He was conscious of every time she crossed and uncrossed her shapely tanned legs. At one point a black stiletto dangled from her painted toes. He had to drag his gaze away and concentrate on the strong black coffee served by the stewardess.
It was just before midnight by the time they arrived. The night was dark, hot and humid. The guys were ready to go straight off but found themselves hanging around the luggage conveyor belt, waiting for Grace’s oversized case to arrive. It would be unkind to go on without her, Donovan kept telling himself as he paced around the airport.
The finally exited the arrivals hall and he looked around for their transport. ‘Anyone see a card with DPA on it?’
John and David shook their heads. ‘What about that guy on the phone over there? Doesn’t his card say DPA?’
Grace pointed to a guy who was talking frantically on the phone, the crumpled sign in his hand. He must have thought he had missed them.
Donovan hurried over and tapped him on the shoulder. ‘I think you’re waiting for us.’
The guy cut his call. ‘Donovan Reid, from the DPA?’
He nodded. ‘Can you give us an update and take us straight to the hospital? Is it still two patients?’
The guy shook his head. He was unusually pale for a Florida local. Or maybe he was just feeling the lateness of the hour, like the rest of them. He gave a wave to couple of police officers near the doors.
‘Two? You’re joking? We’re going to need a police escort. Latest count is thirty-five.’
He started walking towards the doors, not waiting for them to follow.
Donovan’s strides lengthened. ‘What do you mean, thirty-five? Where did they come from?’
The guy sighed as he pulled open the door of the police car. ‘It seems that a kindergarten trip was at the state park caves five days ago.’ His gaze swept around the team. ‘I hope one of you guys is a paediatrician.’
Donovan felt his heart sink like a stone. Grace’s face was a picture. It looked like her first assignment was going to be a baptism of fire.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE HOSPITAL WAS pure and utter chaos. People wandered everywhere, staff looked bewildered and hospital security seemed to have no idea what they were supposed to be doing.
Last time Grace had seen anything like this had be
en a nightmare shift in the ER as a resident during a major incident when there had been a pile-up on the nearby highway.
Three ambulances were in the bay outside, currently unloading patients. Hysterical parents were talking on mobile phones and one kid seemed in danger of wandering outside.
