Two
Chapter 10

I forgot it was Sunday. My entire team had given up their weekend without protest. Goodman came and went without a murmur. With a child's life potentially at stake, such generosity of spirit could make a difference. That was my hope as I sifted through the endless pages of interviews that some nameless agent at the FBI had compiled. Brown, Singh and Keller. Line after line of black squiggles. I didn't know when I fell asleep or even that I did, until Booth shook me awake again.

"Hey, Bones." Dark circles were forming under his eyes. The stubble on his face hinted at a rushed flight back. Jeans and a dark blue t-shirt with a logo I didn't recognize. "I thought you were doing your regular work."

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and pushed myself upright. "I am." I swung my feet to the ground.

He picked up a sheet of paper. "I thought you'd be at home."

"Then why come here?" I needed to get better throw cushions. My neck ached. I rubbed away the dried saliva from the edge of my mouth. Such was life.

He shoved reports aside and dropped onto the other end of the couch. With a groan, he planted his feet on the coffee table and leaned his head back, his eyes closed. "I didn't see the light on at your place, so I figured you were here."

"So either way, you would've woken me up."

"Yeah." The word was a sigh.

"You should've gone home. There's no proof that woman or her child are in any danger."

"Which is why you're not at home sleeping," he murmured. "What are the odds?"

"Of me being here?"

A mild huff of amusement. "One hundred percent." Another groan. "Between the other agents and me, we phoned every walk-in clinic in Denver. Do you know how many there are in a city that size?"

I took the question to be rhetorical and headed for the coffee maker instead. A trial sip told me the leftover liquid was beyond rescuing. I dumped it out and started a new batch. Within seconds, the sound of percolating caffeine filled the air.

Booth's nose twitched as he caught the scent. "I'm almost too caffeinated for that, Bones." He sat upright and dropped his feet back to the ground, then bent forward, his elbows on his knees, hands dangling, head and shoulders bowed. "I'm practically pure coffee." He shook his head several times, rapidly.

I retrieved the transcript of his interview with Singh. "Booth, about the doctor."

"Which one? Keller or Singh?"

"Singh." I flipped through the pages until I found the relevant passage. "The boy he thought was Jordan Langford. He saw him four times in four months. The appointments were equally spaced apart."

"Like clockwork," said Booth. "For allergies."

"Today I had a visit from the lead medical investigator for the drug Isocolar."

It took Booth a few seconds to make the connection. "John Wilson was a part of that."

I sat crosslegged on the floor. "Turns out Isocolar has to be given at precise monthly intervals."

"Let me guess," he said, his eyes suddenly alert. "Four times."

"Yes. But according to Singh's notations, there's no record of the drug being given. It says he prescribed regular allergy shots."

"What's typical?"

"Allergy shots aren't medication, Booth. They're a purified form of the allergen, of whatever it is that's causing the allergic reaction. It takes years to build up an immunity, not months, and there's about a fifty percent chance it'll work. And you don't normally give them to toddlers. Four or five is usually when you start."

"What's the Isocolar then?"

"It's a compound that's been designed from the atom up. Kellar probably got that idea from cancer research. The molecule fits to the allergen and neutralizes it, enhances the immune system and prevents the allergic reaction from happening."

"Sounds like a miracle drug." He got himself a cup of coffee and handed me one as he came back. "Wait a minute. Who are we talking about?"

"Robert Kellar," I said. "Of John Hopkins."

"Okay, then," said Booth as he resumed his place on the couch. "For a moment, I thought you were talking about Singh's partner."

The coffee was strong and black, the way I liked it. "Kellar," I said, emphasizing the last syllable. "And there's no such thing as a miracle drug. Not since penicillin."

"Aspirin," Booth offered.

"Kellar claims Isocolar is effective in a wide range of ages and across genders." I took a sip. "I've never heard of such a thing. Especially when you consider how many allergens are out there, including ones we don't know of."

"So the boy's too young for regular allergy shots and four months isn't enough to have it work, if it works at all," said Booth slowly. "How about Jordan Langford?"

"He's in the database. I checked as soon as I saw the transcript. But I don't know if it's the boy or the real Jordan Langford." I saw Booth's face darken. "You couldn't have known to ask for specifics," I said.

"I do now." He pulled out his cell and dialed. An angry voice squawked loud enough for me to hear. "It's Agent Booth, Dr. Singh. About the allergy shots you were giving the boy, what were they?" His eyes narrowed. "It's not a difficult question, Doctor. The allergy shots, were they purified allergens or not?" More squawks floated through the air. "Not allergens. Then what?"

Silence.

"Dr. Singh, I can have you picked up for further questioning if you wish," said Booth. "Call your lawyer or don't call your lawyer, I don't really care. You've already given us the medical records which means I'm free to ask you questions about them."

I strained to hear the answer.

"Isocolar," said Booth with a nod my way. "Was he part of the trials for the drug then?"

"Based on whose recommendation," I stage whispered.

"Based on your recommendation," said Booth. He listened. "As part of your consulting work?"

"Which company," I asked quietly.

"Parameda," said Booth. "Why the inaccurate records, Doctor? Anything else we should be rechecking?" His face was grim. "Yes, I imagine you do. You should make the call after you hang up because someone will be there to pick you up." It took only a few minutes to notify the Denver office. "I think that's my tenth one for the day," he said after he drained the rest of his coffee.

"We need to show Kellar the photo of Jordan Langford," I said.

"Why?"

"Because he says he knows all the research subjects by name. Which means he knows what they look like."

"Good thinking, Bones. Where can we find him?"

I handed him Kellar's business card.

"His hotel room? He gave you the number of his hotel room?"

"In case I wanted to talk to him about Isocolar."

"The man has a cell." Booth hauled me to my feet. "Not liking him already. But I think you want to talk to him about Isocolar, Bones." He saw my face. "Don't worry, I've got your back, partner."

"It's not my back he likes to look at."

"No," said Booth as he guided me out of my office. "Not liking him at all."