“I have an assignment for you.”
The words were pure bliss, and Rex’s pique evaporated like water under a hot sun. “An assignment?” Already, in his mind’s eye, Rex was packing…traveling to one of the world’s hot-spots, probably some small town in Africa. Already, he could hear the chopper blades beating and the clipped tone of a pilot as he put the bird down while filling in Rex’s team, regarding the number dead, the course of some new unknown disease. “What’s the bug look like? Has anyone identified it?”
Jessica shook her head. “Actually, nothing’s really happened yet. We just got a call from a local.”
Rex’s mind was racing. “Only one call?” That was hardly enough to interest the CDC, much less to get people such as him—known in the field as cowboys—involved in a case.
“Homeland Security,” Jessica reminded.
Since 9-11, anything that vaguely smacked of bioterror needed to be checked out thoroughly. “And you don’t have any information?” That would make the case even more interesting. Rex was part of a team that had traced more than one virus back to its native origins. “My shots are up to date,” Rex assured, “and I’m ready to go. I can be on a plane within the next hour.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Now that he knew an assignment was involved, he was relieved to be getting out of the lab in Atlanta. “Where to?”
“Bliss.”
That stopped him cold. He stared.
“Bliss,” Jessica repeated, now looking as if she were bracing herself for a fight. Not a good sign. “West Virginia. An overnight trip,” she added quickly. “To be honest, we got a hysterical call from an elderly woman named Elsinore Gibbet—”
“Since when does the CDC respond to hysterical calls from elderly women?”
“Careful or I’ll cite you for sexism. She called the World Health Organization and the Department of Homeland Security,” Jessica continued.
He sighed. If anything really happened, Jessica wanted to make sure CDC got dibs. “Let me get this right,” Rex muttered. “Some lady called and—”
“Look, I just want you to go test the water. You’re in, you’re out. Overnight. If you don’t find anything, World Health won’t go down.”
“I’m not a fireman who chases kittens up tree trunks.”
“I need an M.D., not a tech. If you go, the other organizations are covered. Besides, there might be something to the complaint. There have been times when something odd happens in this town. Like unexplainable blackouts.” Pausing, Jessica shoved a file across her desk. “It’s all right here.”
Rex didn’t reach for the case file.
“I’m thinking you might find evidence of the virus we’ve nicknamed Romeo,” she prodded.
“Why me?” Rex groaned. According to office rumors, the virus to which she was referring had only been documented once, in South America, two years back, and then the documentation had mysteriously been lost. Most people assumed the bug had never existed, and that the references to it had been created as a joke. “You’re sending me to look for the love bug,” he said flatly. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“The bug makes people lose inhibitions,” Jessica countered. “And we’ve not yet seen it in the States. It can cause temporary euphoria, a high that’s said to result in increased sexual behavior. Given the patterns of unusual activity in the town, dating back to the 1700s, as well as the local reliance on a spring, as in the South American case—”
“The case is not documented.”
“It was, but the documents were destroyed.”
“I don’t believe in documents that don’t exist.”
“Well then, take some that do,” Jessica said, pushing the file toward him. “We have pictures of the bug, drawn by people who saw it.”
He considered. The last thing he wanted to explore was a love bug, and not just because people all over the world were dying of real diseases that deserved his attention. There was also the matter of Janet Kaston. She’d been a tech at CDC when he’d met her a year ago, and like no other woman he’d ever known. She’d come to the city from a farm in the backwoods of Georgia, and she was pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way. As nice as pie, too, and the first woman he’d dated whom his mother had actually liked.
Within months, he’d found himself engaged. He’d let himself get roped into hours of conversations about kids and mortgages, too. And his folks, who’d despaired of him ever settling down, couldn’t have been more thrilled. Hell, he’d surprised himself when he’d proposed. And he’d liked sex with Janet. It wasn’t the down-and-dirty, no-holds-barred kind he usually sought out. She’d been all hearts and flowers, and while she’d left him cold, on some physical levels, her seeming lack of experience had conned his heart. Seeming and conned being the operative words.
Just two weeks before the wedding, Rex had found his soon-to-be bride in the kitchen pantry of the country club where their rehearsal dinner was to be held. As much as he’d tried to block it from his mind, he could still see her clearly, down on her knees, delivering more than catering orders to their chef, who’d frosted a hard-on with cake icing from Rex’s own wedding cake.
The betrayal had hurt more than anything. As it turned out, she’d been a wild child with a string of boyfriends back in Georgia, whom she’d never told Rex about. He’d been part of her plan to straighten up her act by landing a doctor husband who could give her a soccer-mom lifestyle.
He’d walked out of the pantry and never looked back. Which was why a trip to an Ebola-ridden desert town would have been welcome. There was nothing like living in a village devastated by disease to keep a man on his toes, and his mind in the present.
Romeo—otherwise known as generis misealius—had never even killed anyone. If it had even really existed.
“It’s an order,” Jessica said.
Bliss, West Virginia, he thought. Without even seeing a map, he knew what the town would look like. Two blocks long and probably in a dry county. With any luck, though, there’d be a Hooters the next town over. Rex sure didn’t need a love drug to tell him he was horny. It had been months since Janet, and while he never intended to engage his emotions again—he could sure use some sex. Against his will, he reached for the folder. “Did you book a hotel?”
“None in the area.”
“Don’t tell me. I’ll be sleeping in a tent, right?”
“A bed-and-breakfast,” she corrected. “The fanciest place up there. It’s called the Teasdale Teahouse.”
So much for Hooters. “A teahouse,” he echoed.
She smiled sweetly. “A car’s outside. It’ll take you by your house and to the airport. Your plane leaves in an hour.” She glanced at her watch. “Forty minutes,” she corrected.
His return smile matched hers for sincerity. They eyed each other a long moment. “Well then, as much as I hate to leave you, Jessica, I guess I’d better go.” With that, he rose, lifted the file, then strode from her office. He’d just crossed the threshold when, from behind him, he heard her wolf whistle.
“Careful,” he tossed over his shoulder, “or I’ll charge you with sexual harassment.”