Page 54 of The Presidents Shadow

“Because Grandma Jessica is just as suspicious a person as you are. She injected herself the moment the box arrived to determine whether or not there was some trick involved,” Margo says.

“You did what?” I ask, turning. “That’s insane.”

Jessica nods at Lamont from her seat.

“No,” Margo says. “It’s what you do when you care about people—you put yourself last. Which is why I won’t be taking a dose.”

“Why the hell not?” Burbank asks.

“Because there are only five syringes left,” Margo says. “I will save Jericho’s syringe for when he returns.”

“But—” Tapper begins, and she puts a hand up. I know the gesture well.

“Don’t bother arguing,” I tell him. “You won’t win.”

I turn to Margo. “Fair enough. If you could prepare the syringes, I agree that we should be vaccinated. What’s more, now that we know how difficult it is to transmit the virus, it’s clear that the initial outbreak was causeddeliberately,” I tell them.

“Now all we need to find out is: who the hell did that?”

I am not surprised that the group is bursting with ideas, procedures, insights, and even anger. They talk with enthusiasm. They gesture with excitement. I am gratified by their passion. Without this team, I’d be lost, but I also know that all of the Shadow’s investigations ultimately begin and end with myself.

Margo reenters the room with the prepared syringes just as I get an urgent incoming text. I hate that I have to leave so quickly after we’ve found our stride, but someone I’ve been trying to contact has agreed to meet me.

What I don’t tell them is that my next meeting is as important as—perhaps evenmoreimportant than—the one we’re having right now. I’ve got an appointment to speak with a brilliant geological professor from the University of Peru. We’ve just made some headway with the virus. Maybe now the mystery of the natural disasters will be laid to rest, too.

And if I’m lucky, we can link them, bringing us one step closer to Hephaestus.

CHAPTER 73

MADDY HAS BEEN trying for the past three days to connect with Belinda at the state-run youth detention facility for mental health and social rehabilitation in Harriman.

Even though Belinda isn’t allowed to have any tech, she’s always connected with Maddy via the facility’s phones during visiting hours. That hasn’t happened lately, and when Maddy calls in, a nonemotional guard simply tells her that Belinda is not available.

Maddy is so frustrated that she even asks her volatile boss, R.J., for his help. R.J.’s response to the request is delivered in the sort of impatient style that is so typical of him.

“How should I know what the problem is? Maybe they’re on lockdown because of the outbreaks. Maybe she put your name on a do-not-call list. Maybe—”

But Maddy doesn’t want to hear any more of his maybes. She wishes she could put R.J. on a do-not-talk list.

Maddy just wants to bring Belinda up to date on where things stand with her case. Maddy has learned that Belinda may be offered a reduced rehab sentence if she shares some inside information about Carla Spector’s drug ring.

So Maddy decides to create her own solution. She tells R.J. that she has to head to the evidence room for a few hours of paperwork, and instead drives to Harriman in person.

Maddy arrives during visiting hours and tells the guard at the lobby desk that she is there to see Belinda. The guard looks at his computer screen, pushes a few buttons, and within a few seconds announces, “Sorry, the person you’re asking about has been transferred to a different facility.”

“Where to?” Maddy asks.

The guard doesn’t even bother to look at the computer screen.

“It doesn’t say where they sent her,” he says.

“Could you please check?” asks Maddy.

He barely glances at the screen.

“It doesn’t say,” says the guard.

“Is there someone you can ask who might know?” Maddy asks.

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