Where Rivers Part (18 page)

When she said as much, Dr. Breslin's voice turned even more concerned. “I know tomorrow is Sunday, but we'd better talk with both of you in the morning,” he said. “Let's plan on nine o'clock.”

She thanked Dr. Breslin for the call and promised they'd be there. Hopefully, with answers.

From inside her car, Juliet quickly dialed Dale Frissom. When he didn't answer, she left a message. “Call me, Dale. It's important.”

Despite her exhaustion, Juliet made the drive back to the office in record time. Since the outbreak, night production had been placed on hold, lending the entire facility an empty atmosphere that was almost eerie as she pulled into the parking lot.

Since the outbreak had been connected to Larimar Springs, Juliet had taken to living, eating, and sleeping the situation. To everyone, she acted cool and in command—she was the point person, after all—but when alone, she questioned every decision she'd made since coming on board. Binders of test reports were strewn across her carpet at the condo. Her office looked much the same. She'd searched for some hint, some understanding of how all this could have happened.

In all those hours, she couldn't remember seeing anything unusual. Especially from last November.

At the double glass doors leading to the lobby, she glanced over her shoulder, hoping Alexa had maintained their security force, given their financial strain. Shaking, she pulled her entry card from the pocket in her purse and swiped.

Nothing.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

Exasperated, Juliet stood in the chilly air and phoned Greer. She nearly barked at him when he didn't pick up until the fifth ring. “Greer, I can't get into the building.”

“Yes, I know. Under the circumstances, Alexa felt no one should have access when others are not in the building.”

“You mean
me
.”

He gave her a patronizing sigh. “You're getting paranoid.”

“Are you telling me my security card has been suspended?” Juliet rubbed her forehead in frustration. “Am I the only one?”

“Perhaps you should take this up with Alexa,” he responded, his condescending tone grating on her nerves. “I'm sure she'd be willing to explain her decision in the morning.”

Juliet groaned. “Oh, never mind.” She hung up without saying goodbye. And without telling him why she was trying to get into the building this time of night. Strangely, he hadn't asked.

Tavina might be right. Something didn't feel square here. The
events surrounding this horrible outbreak might not be what they seemed on the surface.

Juliet tightened her fists.

Before she knew what was happening, she'd changed course and made a critical decision. Perhaps none of this was her fault after all. A pallet of bottled water unaccounted for in the records. An analysis report mysteriously left on her car. Who had left that envelope?

Everything pointed to something sinister going on.

Starting immediately, she'd get to the bottom of this mess. Somehow she'd find a way into that building. She'd collect and analyze every piece of information available, put her budding suspicions through every test. Every lab report, bill of lading, and invoice would be placed under a microscope and examined—yet again.

Highly respected food scientists weren't born, they were made. At least that was what her father had drummed in her head back when she'd dared to mention how difficult her doctorate program had become, how little sleep her worn-out body got for all the studying required.

To lay all this to rest, she'd have to use everything she'd learned to nail down the answers to this mystery—or Dr. Juliet Ryan might as well hand over her lab coat.

 28 

J
uliet searched for any sign of security personnel that might let her in if she showed her ID. As suspected, the financial situation at Larimar Springs meant there were none. Frustrated, she headed for her car.

Then she got an idea.

The company server could be accessed via her iPhone, allowing her to open the employee roster. Surely an employee might live close. Not a sure thing, but certainly worth trying.

Bingo!

One of her lab assistants, Lucy Patrick, lived less than two miles away.

Juliet checked her watch. Convincing herself ten thirty was not too late to call, she went ahead and dialed. She didn't have much choice.

A female picked up. “Hello?”

A plane cut through the dark sky overhead, the undercarriage lights flashing in the chilly night sky. “Is this Lucy?”

“Yes.”

“This is Dr. Ryan. I'm afraid I've misplaced my access card and need to retrieve a file from my office. I know it's late, but could I possibly impose and come borrow yours?”

“Tonight?”

She scrunched her face, hating that she had to ask. “Uh, yes. I'm so sorry.” There would be a record of her accessing the building, should anyone choose to check. She'd die on that sword later.

“Well, sure,” Lucy said. “That'd be fine.”

A little over an hour later, she stood at the front door of Larimar Springs, took a deep breath, and swiped Lucy's card, prompting the clicking sound that unlocked the doors. “Just as I thought. Only
my
card wouldn't work,” she fumed, not liking how things were adding up.

The lobby looked much different empty and in the dark. She didn't dare turn on the lights and illuminate the fact she was here alone. She fumbled in her bag and retrieved her car keys. On the ring was a tiny flashlight with a bright LED bulb with enough illumination to get to her office.

Thankfully, her office window faced the rear of the building. She flipped on the light and opened up her Mac.

Juliet spent all night scouring lab records and found that everything lined up for the suspect report. Not sure whether that was a good thing or not, she continued her audit for all the tests conducted well before the date on the pallet Dr. Breslin was concerned about.

The work was tedious and took hours. Every cell in her body quivered in protest, and her eyes burned like someone had poured anhydrous ethanol across her pupils. She doubted any amount of caffeine could make her feel alert.

Still, she kept on.

Despite eating up a large percent of her budget, Juliet had tightened the company's processes to effectively safeguard bottled water from contamination. Nothing here indicated her established practices had been violated.

By the time light peeked through the windows, she'd found no discrepancies. Nothing that left her concerned, not even with the test left on her car window.

Armed with this information, she followed Dale Frissom into the meeting with Dr. Breslin, unsure how to play her findings in a way that would satisfy the investigators.

After initial greetings, she handed over copies of her audit records. “I reviewed everything personally and found everything in order.” Her voice had an edge, counter to her intent. She could only hope the man guiding her to the table clued in to the fact she'd been up all night performing the audit. With the slightest provocation, she might get sharp with even Mother Teresa at this point.

Dr. Breslin stared at her for several seconds, or perhaps he was looking at the dark circles under her eyes. “Thank you for that effort, Dr. Ryan,” he said, taking the large folder from her hands.

He invited them to sit, then pulled some documents from his briefcase and spread them out on the small round table. “This is what caught our attention,” he said, pointing to a line item on his product inventory. A paper clip attached a photo of the suspect label.

Juliet studied Dale's eyes as he leaned close and scanned the records. Looking puzzled, he lifted his head. “I'm afraid I don't have any answers.” He opened his own attaché case and pulled a folder. “Our bottles come in twenty-four-count cases. For twelve ounce, we package ninety-one cases per pallet.” He pulled a set of stapled documents from his folder. “When Dr. Ryan alerted me of your concern, I pulled all our shipping and receiving documentation. Strangely, nothing matches back to that particular pallet.”

Dr. Breslin took the offered records and scowled. “Your records have to be in error. The production date is clearly indicated on the pallet.” He pointed to the label. “We won't know for twenty-four hours or so, but if that pallet tests positive for the coliforms we found in the product at Water Circus, we've got a major problem.”

Dale's face paled as he realized Juliet was no longer the only one in the hot seat.

Dr. Breslin went on. “The worry here, of course, is that there might be contaminated water still out in the marketplace. The
recent development erodes my confidence that we've accounted for all the suspect product.” His face grew solemn. “I'm afraid we may have to go public with this new development.”

“But won't that only serve to increase public anxiety?” Juliet didn't want to overstep her bounds, but nothing would be achieved by making mothers in the San Antonio area worry even more until they could prove consumers were in actual danger. “Seems to me there's been a massive recall of Larimar Springs bottled water, and you've confiscated any product Larimar Springs had on site. Without records to prove for certain, the possibility of additional bad product remaining out in the marketplace is conjecture at this point. We don't even know if that pallet will test positive. Nothing in the FDA regulations requires you to report suspicion—only fact.”

Dr. Breslin's expression told her she'd connected with his scientific sensibilities.

“Of course, Larimar Springs will support whatever decision you make,” she quickly assured him. “The entire investigation team has our full support.”

Juliet made that promise no longer entirely certain it was true. In her mind, the foundation of truth at Larimar Springs was quickly crumbling. Measures had been taken to keep her out of the building, a suspicious envelope was left taped to her car, and now warehouse records couldn't be matched with product. How could Juliet be certain of anything, given all this?

She wasn't normally a person given to suspicion and distrust, but only a fool would turn her head and not stare this dog in the eye.

Dr. Breslin stood, signaling the meeting was over. “Your argument is well taken, Dr. Ryan. I expect it'll take some time to review all the information you've provided, but I can only assure you the CDC and our investigation team will weigh your point of view against our mandate to keep the public safe. I can't make any guarantees,” he explained before escorting them out.

Visibly shaken, Dale voiced his appreciation on the way back
to the office. “Thank you for that,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “I mean it. The only thing I can figure is somehow paperwork errors occurred when Alexa forced a RIF and we were training temp workers in the middle of that big push. That decision opened us up to a margin of error in our day-to-day operations,” he said, going on the defensive.

Juliet didn't point out that the suspicious pallet label suggested a date far before Alexa's demand for expenditure reductions. She didn't need to.

“I know the buck stops with me. But honestly? In my twenty-two years with Larimar Springs, nothing like this has ever happened on my watch. I mean, one time we had an issue with rats in the warehouse, but an exterminator solved that mighty quick. I can't understand how we have no transport documentation for that pallet.” Then, as if she might have the power to protect his career, he confided, “I'm putting two kids through college right now, one is in med school. I can't afford to lose my job.”

Juliet wished she could reassure him, persuade her co-worker he was a valuable member of the executive team and his employment was secure. She couldn't do that.

Surprised by her own instinct, she instead offered what she'd heard her mother claim so many times. “It's out of our hands, Dale. We'll just have to trust God to work all this out.”

She dropped Dale off in front of the office door.

He grabbed his attaché from the floor of her car. “See you tomorrow.”

She nodded. “I'll call you if I hear anything from Dr. Breslin before then.”

Dale thanked her again and started to close the door. Suddenly, Greer burst through the office doors. “Juliet!” he hollered, heading for her car.

Apparently, she and Dale were not the only ones working over the weekend.

Dale glanced over his shoulder, then returned a weak smile. “Good luck.” He nodded and backed away, nearly getting knocked aside as Greer approached and grabbed the car door, opening it wide.

“Where'd you and Dale take off to?” he demanded, his face dark and agitated.

Juliet gripped the steering wheel with enough force to maintain composure. She desperately wanted to put him in his place. Instead, she measured her words carefully. “Dale and I had a meeting.”

“A meeting? Where? With who?” His questions came at her like artillery fire.

She aimed back and shot off a response meant to shut him down. “Dr. Breslin had questions regarding our distribution and warehouse practices. That's why I took Dale with me.” She forced an artificial smile. “I'll update everyone tomorrow, but right now I'm heading home.”

There would be nothing lost in waiting to tell the team. Dr. Breslin would need at least twenty-four hours to review her findings against whatever test results came in. Then he'd decide how to move forward. If she told Greer now, he'd only panic and promulgate a lot of unnecessary and premature reaction.

Besides, at this point he'd lost her trust. If she told anyone, she'd make sure and tell Alexa directly. And with others present as a safety measure so there would be an adequate record of everything she conveyed.

Greer straightened and stepped back, a look of slight suspicion still evident on his face. But there was something else in his eyes. Something calculated. “It's just with everything that's going on, communication is critical.”

She nodded, unsure how to reconcile the man she'd spent so much time with over these past months with the potential traducer standing at her car. “Of course, Greer.”

“And about last night—the security card thing.” He lifted his
chin slightly. “I mentioned the issue to Alexa. Her decision had something to do with liability, given we no longer maintain on-site security at night.”

She inclined her head, appalled at the liberties he took with the truth. She waited for him to ask why she'd needed access at such a late hour. When he didn't, she hurried to end the exchange. “Look, Greer. I really need to get going.”

She drove home with her briefcase resting on the floor in front of the passenger seat. Safely tucked inside, a duplicate set of her research provided a level of safeguard against the developing unease in her gut. After hours of work, she'd not been able to unravel the mystery of the outdated pallet in the warehouse, or why there were insufficient records to resolve the unanswered questions.

One thing had become very clear in the process. Something was up with Greer. He'd lied on several occasions. No longer could she chock up his agitation to losing his key account, to his company faltering. His skills as a talented sales executive were indisputable. Greer could land another job any day of the week.

His hostility definitely stretched beyond a breakup pout. The typically calculated man she knew, who rarely showed emotion unless it was in his favor, seemed to be coming undone.

The notion stretched beyond rational, but something told Juliet he had something to hide.

But what?

For now, she'd keep the envelope a secret, especially from Greer. Eventually, she might have to go to Alexa with her suspicions. But she'd need more than misgivings and a gut feeling to garner the CEO's reinforcement. If she was believed, Greer's career at Larimar Springs would be tanked, of course. Without proper proof, the approach would backfire and simply underscore the idea that she was the incompetent one.