A.D.A.M. Page 4

  Dr. Bradford raised her hand chest high. “Wait, anything I have to say, they can hear.”

  Agent Turner stepped closer toward Dr. Bradford. “In that case, you leave us no choice but to take you to FBI headquarters. Please, Dr. Bradford, retrieve your belongings and come with us. It will be easier for everyone involved.”

  A silent standoff prevailed.

  “I’ll consent, but I want it documented that I am cooperating.” Dr. Bradford gathered her belongings and headed for the door.

  Rebecca motioned for George to follow. He pursued the agents and Dr. Bradford as they exited from the lab.

  “Wait! Dr. Bradford, your journal.” Jessica handed over the journal as a baffled pout formed.

  Dr. Bradford hesitated. “You keep it. Jessica, lock down the lab. Use protocol FRIC.” A faint smile flashed across her lips, and she winked in silent thanks to her assistant.

  “FRIC?” Agent Turner’s brow creased. “And, that is code for what?”

  “Factual Research Investigative Control.”

  Jessica smirked in agreement and winked knowingly to Dr. Bradford. “Lock up the science experiment to avoid contamination. FRIC that!”

  Agent Morrison gave Dr. Bradford an irritated unblinking glower. “Come with us, please.”

  The two agents escorted Dr. Bradford from the lab as Rebecca, George, and Jessica pursued them. The door shut behind them.

  In a few seconds, Jessica re-entered the lab and secured the samples. The murky water in one of the five tubes glowed neon yellow as the water vibrated around it.

  She retrieved her cellphone and dialed.

  Rebecca stood in front of the N.A.E.T. building with her microphone in her hand ready to transmit a live broadcast to KWNC. She lifted her hand to her mouth to conceal a yawn. Her eyes followed both Agents and Dr. Bradford as they entered the black government issued sedan.

  “I’m Rebecca Newcombe, and this is KWNC Morning News. The top story of the day comes to us from the N.A.E.T. Research Facility in New Orleans, Louisiana. Just a few minutes ago, the FBI took Dr. Sandra Bradford into custody. At the time she was taken into custody, I was in the process of interviewing Dr. Bradford when two agents entered and demanded her presence at FBI headquarters. It is not clear if the FBI will charge Dr. Bradford with any criminal activity or if she is a suspect in the death of Dr. Gregory Peterson. It has only been three weeks since the scientific team, led by Dr. Bradford, discovered the new life form that thrives off arsenic known as A.D.A.M. The acronym means Arsenic Driven Astrobiological Microbe. This historic discovery changes the way the scientific community identifies life as we now know it.”

  As the black sedan pulled away, Jessica gazed out the lab’s window and observed. She huffed as a deep scowl developed across her brow. “They can’t do this to her. Stephen Stone Diamond will hear about this.”

  The black SUV traveled west on Interstate 10 toward New Orleans. Agent Morrison drove as Agent Turner and Dr. Bradford sat in the back seat.

  The radio tuned to the Stephen Stone Diamond Show flowed from the console. “Is Dr. Bradford next on the hit list or is she a suspect? Caller from area code five zero four, you’re live on Stephen Stone Diamond Show.”

  Jessica paced in front of the test tube samples. “Do you really think they have discovered E.T.?”

  “It’s a good possibility caller five zero four. Do you believe in aliens?”

  Jessica continued to secure the lab. Behind her, the murky water tube glowed neon yellow and quickly faded away. “I think I have no other choice after seeing what I’ve seen here at the institute.”

  The lights in the lab flickered. Jessica glanced back and forth between the entrance and the bay window as if someone watched her from afar. She looked at the microscope and then noticed the slide.

  “And, what type of institute is this?”

  The liquid on the slide glowed neon yellow as Jessica reached for it. “What the hell?”

  “Excuse me? Caller five zero four, are you still online? Robyn, is five zero four still online? Five zero four, are you there?”

  “Shit!” Jessica’s eyes widened as her heart raced. “Oh, shit!” She quickly slid her hands into a pair of latex gloves, removed the slide, and placed it into a sterilized evidence plastic bag.

  “Did you just say a naughty word?”

  “Just a minute, Stephen Stone Diamond.” She retrieved the test tube vial and put both it and the slide in her hoodie jacket pocket.

  “We’re live on air, and five zero four is putting me on hold. Unbelievable. Five zero four, you there?”

  “Yes. Yes. Just taking care of stuff. Hold on.”

  “Five zero four definitely put me on hold. Who does that? While I’m on hold, it’s time for a commercial break. Will caller five zero four be ready when I return? That is the mystery of the day. This is Stephen Stone Diamond taking a quick break.” He yawned before he switched off the microphone.

  Giles Giordano, the janitor, a thin-scruffy man with a scar from his left temple to his lips, held a mop as he limped into the lab.

  “Oh, shit!” Jessica ducked and squatted behind a lab table as she held the phone to her ear.

  “Something wrong, caller five zero four?”

  “Got to go. I love your show.” She disconnected the call.

  “I know you’re in here.” Giles limped toward her pushing the mop as a cane to assist with his feebleness. “You can quit hiding now.” An expression of hard indifference covered his forehead.

  Jessica stood as she furrowed her brow and twisted her lips.

  Giles tapped the mop’s head. “You’re not supposed to be in here without Dr. Bradford. You have to leave.”

  “Yes, sir, I’m sorry. Dr. B asked me to lock things up. You know, secure her experiment since the FBI took her to God knows where. She doesn’t want it compromised. You know, like as in it getting ruined.”

  Giles glared toward Jessica as he inched closer to her position.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs as she removed her glasses, flicked the pink scrunchy from around her ponytail bun, and shook her long brunette hair untwisting it. Although more clumsy than sexy in her awkward way, with her fingers pushing through her hair and batting her thick-long eyelashes, she seductively sauntered forward. The closer to Giles she became, the fuller her innocent grin. “Please, with sugar on top; let me finish.” She blew him a kiss using all the sensuality she could fathom to taunt him.

  Giles didn’t budge unimpressed. The artic frost of his expression grew with impatience as he glared toward her. “Does this trick often work for you?”

  She fluttered her lashes, again. “I’ll owe you a favor. You never know when you will need a favor. Everyone needs a favor at some point in their life.” Jessica kissed her index finger and placed it onto his cheek. “That is, a man in your position.”

  “I’ll pretend I didn’t see you, sweetie; but one day, I’ll come to collect on that favor of yours, and you better deliver.” The janitor emptied the trash can.

  “Whew! That was close.” She sighed relieved. I guess that does work just like in the movies.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I have to close down the experiment.” Jessica scanned the room as Giles continued to clean, and then she searched through several lower cabinets. “Nope, that’s not it.” She grasped the knob on the cabinet above the sink and pulled it. “Shit! It’s locked.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  She rushed to the desk, opened the drawer, and rifled through it. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me. You are so sweet to let me do this.” She retrieved a set of keys, and then quickly slammed the drawer shut and bolted to the locked cabinet.

  Giles pretended not to notice.

  Jessica tried one key to unlock the cabinet. “Shit! It doesn’t work.” She tried another key and another. “Damn, none of them work.”

  “Time’s up; you gotta go!”

  “But, but... this is very important. It co
uld be the difference between life and death. Please look the other way.” She blew him another kiss and twirled her hair with her index finger. “Make your decision wisely; a woman’s life rests in your hands.”

  Giles menacingly limped toward Jessica as he reached into his pocket. “Sounds serious.” He limped closer with a scowl across his brow.

  Jessica’s eyes bulged, and she gasped. Her blood rushed through her veins as she felt a flash of heat across her cheeks.

  He pulled out a ring of master keys and unlocked the cabinet. “Here, maybe this will help you get out of here faster. I don’t have all night.”

  Jessica took a deep breath and sighed in relief as a lump formed in her throat.

  Dr. Bradford sat in the back seat with Agent Turner as Agent Morrison drove.

  Unafraid, Dr. Bradford broke the silence. “I seriously doubt someone is going to murder me in broad daylight.”

  “You don’t understand New Orleans, do you?” Agent Morrison’s eyes remained focus on the road.

  “Ma’am.” Agent Turner crossed her legs and adjusted her position. She then placed her hand on her holstered gun on her hip. “There is an unsub out there who is murdering your team.”

  Dr. Bradford’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. “An unsub?”

  Agent Morrison’s eyes reflected in the review mirror. “As in an unidentified subject who wants you and your entire team dead.”

  “I haven’t received any threats.”

  Agent Turner shook her head and glared toward Dr. Bradford. “Neither did your colleagues.”

  Agent Morrison nodded as he glanced over his shoulder. “It’s all part of our profiling.”

  “Please keep your eyes on the road.” Agent Turner’s warning echoed in authority.

  “We have reason to believe the closer the scientist is to the initial research, the more likely they are a target.” Agent Morrison’s eyes focused on the road.

  “You do the math, Dr. Bradford.” Agent Turner pursed her lips as she clutched her holster. “It’s two dead, plus five alive, equals seven targets.”

  “How do you know it isn’t me?” Her gaze seemed as if she took Agent Turner as a fool.

  “Are you confessing to the murders of your colleagues?”

  “You said it could be anyone of us. Doesn’t that put me on the suspect list?”

  Agent Turner exhaled as she tightened her jaw. “Where were you the night of Dr. Peterson’s murder?”

  Not even Dr. Bradford’s fiercest glare would deter her from voicing her outrage to the agents. “With my undergraduate student conducting research, ask her.”

  “We intend to. What about the day of Dr. Peck’s murder?”

  “Excuse me! Dr. Peck was my husband for Pete’s sake.”

  “In domestic cases, it is usually the spouse or a colleague who feels slighted. You seem to fit nicely into both categories of suspects.”

  “Do I need an attorney?”

  “You’re a brilliant woman Dr. Bradford; you’ll figure it out.” The condemnation of her glare had Dr. Bradford reeling, the retort dying on her lips.

  Rebecca pulled her red SUV into the parking lot of the busy news station KWNC and parked in a spot reserved with her name. She gathered her belongings and rushed into the station.

  Once inside, she didn’t waste any time as she bolted through the newsroom preparation area to her desk where Patrick, her co-anchor, sat on the edge; feet and arms crossed.

  “Good work, Rebecca.” Patrick nodded in jealous approval.

  “Thanks, I don’t have time for chit chat.”

  “I get it; I’m on an important story too.”

  Rebecca sat and quickly obtained the digital memory card marked, “Bradford Taken into Custody” and immediately uploaded into her computer. Her desk phone rang.

  “KWNC, Rebecca Newcombe speaking.” She retrieved a pencil and a yellow writing pad and wrote notes as she listened to the person on the other end.

  Patrick leaned over to peer at the written notes as Rebecca covered them with her free hand. She nodded. “Yes, I understand.” Her eyes darted toward Patrick.

  Henry, the news producer, popped his head in from around the corner. “You’re on in fifteen. Get that lead story finished now.”

  Rebecca ripped the sheet of paper from the note pad, neatly folded it and stealthily tucked it away into her bra. She again, sternly glanced toward Patrick. “Do you mind, I need privacy?”

  Patrick rolled his eyes and left the area.

  “I have this. I’m on it.” She set the receiver onto the cradle.

  The black FBI sedan with the agents and Dr. Bradford pulled into Dr. Bradford’s driveway.

  “I don’t get it. You brought me to my house?”

  Agent Morrison turned to Dr. Bradford and nodded. “You’re going to be confined here for your protection.”

  Agent Turner scowled in disapproval. “Or, until we arrest whoever is murdering your colleagues.”

  “So, I’m not a suspect?”

  Agent Morrison opened his door. “We never said you were, Dr. Bradford. We’ll escort you inside, but first, I need to secure your home.” Agent Morrison exited the vehicle on high alert as he scanned the area.

  Dr. Bradford reached for the handle to exit the vehicle. Agent Turner grabbed her arm. “Wait until we have the all clear from Agent Morrison. Your safety is our priority.”

  “Seriously? Is this necessary?”

  “Depends on how much value you put on your life.”

  Agent Morrison nodded and extended his thumb as he stood on the front porch.

  “Let’s roll.” Agent Turner opened her door.

  “If you mean get out and go inside, then by all means.”

  The women exited the vehicle, strode to the front porch where Dr. Bradford retrieved her keys from her purse and unlocked the door. “Do I need to wait here too while you check out my house, Agent Morrison?”

  “We’re good. After you, Dr. Bradford.”

  Dr. Bradford entered the house and placed her things on the table in the foyer. “I need to call my research assistant and let her know that everything is fine. That is if it is allowed.”

  Agent Turner glared toward Dr. Bradford. “You’re not in jail. We’re here to protect you.”

  “Great news. I’ll make my call in the privacy of my bedroom.”

  Agent Morrison nodded his head in approval as Dr. Bradford exited.

  The two agents stood by the front door as they scanned the living room. Agent Morrison cleared his throat. “We may as well get comfortable; we’re going to be assigned here for a while.”

  “Please don’t remind me. I hate babysitting jobs. That’s not why I joined the FBI.”

  “It comes with the job.” Agent Morrison strode to the bookshelves and surveyed the pictures, awards, and books.

  Agent Turner stood across the room on guard.

  “She is a remarkable woman. I think her intelligence is up there with Einstein’s.”

  “You sound like you admire her.”

  “Admire? Suffice it to say I know an intelligent person when I see one.” Agent Morrison ambled to the fireplace where he noticed the biosphere with African Albino Dwarf frogs just as Dr. Bradford entered. His gazed fixated on the small creatures as they darted through the miniature ornate treasure chest filled with gold coins, a bridge, and plastic blue and purple algae in the water.

  “I see you’ve been snooping around. Unbelievable, I’m stuck with you until your team catches the killer.” Dr. Bradford’s face and neck spotted red.

  “You act surprised.” Agent Morrison tapped the side of the biosphere.

  “I’d say angry is more of a definitive description.”

  “We just need you safe and alive.” Agent Turner moved to the center of the living room.

  Dr. Bradford rubbed her right temple. “The government must need me.”

  “Our orders are to keep you safe and alive, Dr. Bradford.” Agent Morrison glanced toward the bay window on alert.


  “What about Jessica and the rest of the team? Who’s protecting them?” Dr. Bradford’s temperature rose as her heart raced.

  “They, unlike you, Dr. Bradford, are dispensable and aren’t our concern.”

  “Jessica is my main concern. I want her brought here.”

  Agent Turner stepped toward Dr. Bradford. “What you want and what you get are two completely different concepts. Our orders are for no one to be allowed in or out of this house, that includes Jessica Parker.”

  “You don’t have the authority to make that rule when it pertains to my home, Agent Turner.”

  “I may not, but the government certainly does when they consider lockdown to be in the best interest of national security.”

  “So, now I’m a national security threat?”

  Across town, Jessica wore boxer shorts with pink lip kisses and a white T-shirt as she paced talking on her cell phone inside her threadbare nerdy efficiency apartment. The room looked more like a make-shift library with wall-to-wall bookshelves filled with textbooks and periodicals. Books and magazines were piled high in corners or anywhere they fit, a desk chair, and a single purple futon occupied the corner next to the balcony sliding glass door. In the opposite corner, a desk with three monitors, a Mini Mac, and a keyboard. In the middle of the room, a four-foot by a six-foot round rug of splotched orange, lime, pink, yellow, and purple squares and circles served as her meditation ring. “I have to talk to Dr. Bradford again. Stop it, Jessica. Stop talking to yourself. That’s not a good sign. You just talked to her a while ago.”

  With her fingers and thumb, she again reverted to her mantra as she pretended to pull air from her nose and mouth. “Auh ommm. Auh ommm. Auh ommm. Auh ommm.” Her pace increased, and then she plopped onto the black futon. Her eyes swelled, and she quickly wiped the tears away.

  After she took a deep breath, she retrieved her cellphone and dialed Dr. Bradford.

  “Oh, thank God, you answered. Are you okay? Where are you? What did the FBI want?”

  “Slow down, Jessica. Everything is fine. I’m at home.”

  “Whew! I’m coming over right away.”