Last night, lying in bed she told herself that she was the luckiest woman in the world. She had been given a second chance at having a family. When she closed her eyes she was shocked that all she could think about was Benjamin Platt and remember so vividly what it felt like to have him make love to her. She rolled over and cuddled into her husband’s back, pressed her cheek against his shoulders, and begged for sleep.
“Wychulis.”
Baldwin’s heels clicked up the hallway. She looked like a woman who had slept eight hours and, unlike Mary Ellen, didn’t need three cups of coffee this morning to get her moving. But on closer inspection Mary Ellen saw that her boss’s attempt at concealing the bags under her eyes had not been totally successful.
“Have you heard from the secretary?”
“No.”
“Of course not. He makes a ridiculous statement, and we’re supposed to deal with the fallout.”
Mary Ellen remained quiet. She knew her old boss must have had the necessary evidence before releasing his statement to the press.
“Are we ready here?”
“Yes.”
Baldwin opened the door to the conference room and stopped. She stayed in the doorway and Mary Ellen almost bumped into her.
“Good morning, everyone. Thanks for coming. We’ll be right with you.”
Then Baldwin closed the door again and waved for Mary Ellen to follow her down the hallway.
“Who the hell are all those people?” she whispered.
“You asked to convene the Recall Committee. These are all standing members.”
“There must be a dozen people in that room.”
“Actually fourteen. Joseph Murray brought two of his techs and Karena McFerris has her deputy field inspection manager with her. What exactly are we going to talk about recalling?”
“Ground beef that the USDA bought specifically for the school lunch program.”
“You do understand we won’t be able to actually order it. All meat recalls are voluntary. We negotiate with the supplier.”
Obviously Baldwin did not know because the look she gave Mary Ellen was one of disbelief.
“You’re telling me the FDA can order a recall on a defective toy that might hurt children but the USDA cannot order a recall on contaminated meat that could kill children?”
Mary Ellen controlled her frustration.
“Our agency is to assist producers as well as protect consumers.” She shouldn’t need to remind Irene Baldwin that the reason she was hired over more qualified candidates— including Mary Ellen—was for her ability to bridge that gap.
“Is Undersecretary Eisler at least here?” Baldwin finally asked.
“He sent Deputy Administrator Jerold from Marketing Service. Jerold is actually the person directly responsible for overseeing the National School Lunch Program.”
Mary Ellen had never seen Baldwin like this. Since day one, the woman had appeared infallible. Mary Ellen wondered what her old boss, who hired Baldwin, would say if he could see the exCEO now.
FORTY-SIX
NEBRASKA
Maggie had forgotten about Johnny Bosh’s cell phone. When she unpacked her suitcase to dress for another day of puzzle solving in the Sandhills, she found it buried in her dirty, musty-smelling clothes. Immediately she was reminded of her claustrophobic crawl underneath the Boshes’ house. She shook off the thought and plugged her universal adapter into his phone.
By the time she showered and had breakfast with Lucy, the phone had charged.
And suddenly she had access to Johnny Bosh’s world. What she wanted to see most were the text messages from the minutes or hours before his death. Text messages didn’t disappear unless the cell-phone user erased each one. And even then it was sometimes possible to retrieve them.
Johnny’s mother had said that she had spoken to a couple of his friends, but they hadn’t heard from or seen him. Since he had his phone with him, Maggie suspected he had talked to or was waiting to talk to someone. She was right. But she wasn’t prepared for what she found.
Johnny B DAW’S OK.Amanda: WHO CARES? HE’S A LOSER.Amanda: THEY’RE ALL LOSERS.Johnny B: THEY’LL KEEP THEIR MOUTHS SHUT.Amanda: YEAH, JUST LIKE TAYLOR.Johnny B: THAT WAS DIFFERENT.Amanda: NOT SO DIFFERENT. THIS TIME WE R SO SCREWED.Amanda: U R NOT EVER LEAVING THIS PLACE.Johnny B: THAT’D MAKE U HAPPY.Amanda: YEP. YOU’LL BE STUCK HERE WITH THE REST OF US.Amanda: NO FOOTBALL. NO SCHOLARSHIP.Amanda: LOSER, LOSER, LOSER!!!!!
There was nothing more for almost an hour. Then several more from Amanda, asking where he was then demanding he answer her.
He never did.
Maggie decided she’d pay another visit to the girl.
FORTY-SEVEN
CHICAGO
Platt figured there might not be such a thing as a surprise inspection. Even the rain beating down on the tin roof sounded like it was announcing their arrival. The state health inspector had met them at the front entrance, bringing with him the last several inspection reports. Bix exploded when he saw the blacked-out sections.
“It’s proprietary information,” Inspector Alfred said without apology. “I do as I’m instructed. Besides, I think it’s just their recipe for the taco seasoning. No big deal.”
“Really,” Bix said. “What if it’s something in that seasoning that’s making kids sick?”
“I doubt it.”
Platt grimaced at the man’s foolish attempt to argue with Bix. He started flipping pages while the other two men established their territory. He noticed several warnings and citations, but they appeared to be minor infractions.
Finally they were ready to move on. The three of them stopped at security so Bix and Platt could present their credentials. They were issued badges and security key cards that would allow them access throughout the facility. A tech handed out several pairs of shoe covers, telling the guests to change each time they entered a new area. The covers would be available at each entrance.
Platt still wasn’t sure what Bix expected to find. Worse, he didn’t think Bix knew.
They started with the production lines. The first one shaped ground beef into patties. A supervisor explained the process, step by step. Alfred didn’t appear to be listening and concentrated instead on making notes and conducting his own checks. Platt wandered away from the group to look through glass doors into other sections.
They were told that the shift would end in an hour and they would be able to observe the wash down and cleaning of the equipment. They could take samples of the cleaning chemicals and do their own “wipe down” to check for residue. But Platt wasn’t interested. He was certain it wasn’t chemicals or residue of chemicals that was making these kids sick.
He watched another production line where scraps and chunks of beef were fed into a huge grinder. The beef would supply the other production lines. Lots of raw meat. Lots of potential.
“Where does the beef come from?” Platt asked the supervisor when the group caught up.
“Various places.”
“Not just Illinois?”
“Oh gosh, no. Colorado, Nebraska, Florida, California, and Illinois—just to name a few states. We get the scraps and chunks from slaughterhouses that aren’t used for commercial cuts.”
“USDA contracts with you for the school lunch program?”