After two rings, the door opened to reveal a six foot tall black man.
“Are you Nigel Hudson?” asked Lobec.
“Yes,” the man said warily.
Lobec flipped open his wallet. “My name is Detective Trumball, and this is my partner, Detective Braddock. May we have a few words with you?”
“About what?”
“We need to discuss a friend of yours. His name is Kevin Hamilton.”
Hudson eyed Lobec and Bern suspiciously. “All right,” he said after the hesitation. “Come on in.”
Good. This interview was already going as well as their other interviews. Perhaps this one would be more productive. If Lobec worded his questions correctly, he would know if this man had communicated with Kevin Hamilton. All he needed was one clue. Then he would have them.
At 1:00 pm on Thursday, Erica was driving Murray’s dualie down Tom’s Creek Boulevard away from Virginia Tech. She was alone. Kevin was in the lab, and Janice and Ted Ishio had left early Wednesday morning for Minnesota.
The first thing Erica and Kevin did yesterday was make two phone calls. The first call had been to Congressman Sutter’s office to make an appointment for next week. The only opening the congressman had was on Monday morning at 8:00; he was supposed to leave the next day for a two week junket overseas. Since Kevin thought he would be done even sooner than Sunday, he’d told the secretary, Marian, that Monday would be fine.
The second call had been to the Smithsonian. At first, Erica had been uncomfortable pretending to be Marian, but she quickly grew into the role and thought her performance was convincing. The favor she had asked was somewhat unusual, but the man she talked with didn’t seem very surprised and agreed to her request. His matter-of-fact tone led Erica to believe he would do it.
The rest of the day had been mundane, consisting primarily of moving equipment and adjusting settings per Kevin’s direction. Research had never been interesting to her, and the stuffy lab hadn’t changed her mind. Eating greasy take-out pizza all day didn’t help the situation. Since the setup was finished and Kevin didn’t need her help any more, she was taking the opportunity to get some food that was not made primarily of saturated fats.
Ted and Janice had been planning to be gone for several days, and they’d let their store of food dwindle, especially the fresh fruits and vegetables Erica craved. The obvious solution was the immense grocery now in front of her. It was one of the new ones that had a pharmacy, a full-service bank, a deli, and anything else they could cram in.
The lot was packed with cars of students just returned for the fall semester loading up on supplies. Erica had to park on the fringe, but it didn’t bother her. She was looking forward to the walk, amazed that on a sunny September day the temperature hadn’t been higher than 75 degrees. Maybe later she’d walk around Ted and Janice’s neighborhood.
When she saw the other students entering and leaving the store, she felt a pang of guilt for neglecting her own studies. But there was nothing she could do. At least this mess would all be over on Monday.
Erica followed two teenage girls into the store. She grabbed one of the shopping baskets piled at the front and dropped her purse into it. At the entrance to the produce section, a woman was holding a tray with bits of food. The teenagers each took a piece and popped them into their mouths. Erica hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so she walked over to the woman.
She held the tray up for Erica. “Would you like to try a sample of NYC brand coffee cake?”
“I’d love to. I’m starving.”
“The pieces on the left have walnuts and the ones on the right don’t. Take one of each. If you like it, you can pick up a box from aisle 12.”
“Thanks.”
Munching on the coffee cake, Erica headed into the produce section. As she popped the second piece of cake into her mouth, she thought she might actually buy some.
A salad was her top priority though, so she stopped and picked a head of Romaine lettuce, a bundle of carrots, two tomatoes, and a cucumber. Next was a stalk of broccoli. She only needed one since Kevin hated broccoli. She wrapped the broccoli in a tear-off plastic sack and went in search of the pasta aisle. The thought of marinara sauce with a light sprinkle of parmesan made her mouth water, and she looked for a sign marked “Italian foods”.
As she rounded the corner into the grocery store’s back row, she saw the two teenagers standing by a dispenser containing cold drinks. They were facing away from Erica. Both were short and thin, one with dark, curly hair, the other with a blonde crop cut. The dark-haired girl seemed to be comforting the blonde. As Erica got closer, she could hear what they were saying.
“Tory?” the dark-haired girl said in a voice that was tinged with fear. “What’s the matter?”
Tory shook her head. She seemed to be clutching her throat. Immediately, Erica thought the girl was choking. But then Tory turned around, and Erica knew that the situation was much worse.
Tory’s face was bright red, and her lips, cheeks, and neck were grossly swollen. Her eyes were beginning to shut because of the swelling. The hissing sound was Tory gasping for breath through her constricting throat. It was a textbook case of a severe allergic reaction. If nothing was done in the next few minutes to halt the reaction, Tory would go into shock and die.
When the dark-haired girl saw Tory’s face, she screamed. A dozen eyes turned in the teenagers’ direction, and without thinking, Erica ran over to them, as did a man who looked like a student.
“What’s wrong with her?” the student asked.
“I don’t know,” said the dark-haired teenager. “She was fine just a minute ago.”
“She’s having an allergic reaction,” Erica said, coming to a stop in front of the girls and dropping her hand basket to the ground.
“You,” she said, pointing at the student, “go call 911 and tell them it’s an emergency.”
She turned back to the teenagers. “Is she allergic to something in that cake you just ate?” she said to the dark-haired girl.
“Tory asked about nuts, but the woman said there weren’t any.”
Erica put one hand on Tory’s shoulder and lifted her head. The swelling was spreading rapidly. Tory’s face was now the color of one of the ripe tomatoes in Erica’s basket.
Severe allergies to nuts were fairly common; 100 people in the U.S. die from them every year. And sometimes the allergic person didn’t even have to eat nuts. The cake without walnuts might have had a nut oil, which would produce the same effect.
Tory lunged forward, panicking because she couldn’t breathe. She stumbled over Erica’s basket, scattering the fruit and the contents of her purse across the linoleum floor.
Erica clasped Tory’s shoulders hard, knowing the only way to save her was to give her the dose of epinephrine people with severe allergies like hers were supposed to carry.
“Tory, I know what the problem is and I’m going to help you. But you need to calm down.” Tory shook her head, but didn’t resist.
“What’s your name?” Erica said to the dark-haired girl as she held on to Tory.
“Maggie.”
“Maggie, I’m Erica. I need you to help me get Tory lying down. If she passes out and collapses, she might injure herself.”
“Are you a doctor?” Maggie said.
“Yes,” Erica said, knowing that telling Maggie she was a med student would only cause problems. On the other hand, if you told people you were a doctor, they immediately trusted your abilities. “Now, grab her other side.”
Gently, they moved Tory to the floor. Her breath was now coming in shallow, ragged gasps.
“Where’s her epi pin?” Erica said, beginning to search Tory’s pockets.
Maggie looked at her, puzzled. “Her what?”