Flu
Chapter 54
Drawing herself up, Lanie raps on the door of the Chief M.E.'s office, before walking in. Langston Quigley looks up with a scowl. "Dr. Parish, I have to stay available for emergency communications. You know that. This better be damned important."
The petite M.E.'s eyes blaze. "It's important all right. Sir, do you remember the people who were killed by laptops that exploded because of defective batteries?"
"What has that got to do with the current crisis?" Quigley demands.
"Maybe everything," Lanie insists. "I performed one of the postmortems on the laptop victims, and I'm in the middle of one on an engineer blown up on a float. I pulled up the pictures for comparison. The shards I'm finding in his body are identical to those I saw in the laptop victim. I believe the computer meant to control the animation on that float blew up and ignited what was around it."
"Dr. Parish, if what you suspect is true, and I'll need concrete evidence, why would both floats blow at once?"
"I don't know, Sir. That's something for BSU and the tech guys to figure out. But I have my previous report, and if you come look at the body on my table, I think you'll be convinced."
Quigley drops his cell phone in the pocket of his lab coat and pushes up from behind his desk, "Show me."
Kate pulls a bottle of water from the vending machine outside the bullpen. She's been buying them for the people she's been interviewing all day. So have the other detectives, and the dispenser is almost empty. She's hoping a long drink will soothe the scratchy throat she's developed after a day questioning parade workers and learning almost nothing. The one thing that has come up is that the flu ravaged both the paid and volunteer parade staff. That includes the workers who were trying to keep things together until launch time. One of the victims wasn't even supposed to be there. He was at home sick and had been called in to fix a last-minute malfunction. Some assemblies put together by less experienced workers on both floats had come apart, and he was assigned to repair them. If he hadn't dragged himself in to help, he might still be alive.
There's one more thing everyone Kate has interviewed so far seems to agree on, No unexpected personnel were around, and no one heard a word of anti-American propaganda. Everyone was concentrating on fulfilling the longstanding holiday tradition and being able to get home to their own families.
During the course of the day, Montgomery called her in for two quick meetings while he gave his leads what updates he had. The sessions were short for a reason. The feds had discovered nothing that hinted of terrorism. Sweeps were continuing, but so far, they hadn't turned up any explosive devices along the parade route. Intelligence hadn't produced any reports of terrorist activity either. No agency had a scrap of evidence or even a reliable source that terrorism was involved.
Kate isn't sure whether to be relieved or not. The last thing the city needs is another terrorist attack. But it doesn't need some crazy lone bomber running around either. That the explosions were a freak accident is the best she can hope for.
The two brief updates Kate sent to Rick advised him to stay at the Pumpkin Castle and continue with as she put it, "his good works." He can sense the frustration in what she left unsaid, and it's echoed in the news feed he checks every so often on his phone. No one knows what happened or seems to be getting closer to finding out.
Nothing has changed for the city's hungry, either. They lined up for a couple of hours before the pop-up's crew could start serving. Castle and one of the writer-regulars set up a cart to serve warm cider and pumpkin muffins outside, but that was the best they could do until Mark signaled the line was open.
Castle's been dishing out Thanksgiving dinner ever since, switching off between yams and stuffing. Dean Katz himself is slicing turkey with precision Rick could never hope to match. Neither he nor Rick has mentioned Derrick Storm, or anything other than feeding people, something for which Rick is immensely grateful. The staff from Cooking Network has yet to make an appearance, and from what little Katz has said, likely, they won't. They're off shooting video of chefs cooking up meals for first responders. Pumpkin Castle may lose some P.R., but right now, Rick couldn't care less.
Quigley studies the screen displaying a microscopic view of a glob of charred and melted plastic, side by side, with an image from a previous case. "I believe you're correct, Dr. Parrish. The pieces do appear to have originated from identical sources. CSU will have to confirm the analysis before we issue a report, but you've made an excellent observation."
"Thank you, Sir."
"Now go finish up your autopsy," Quigley urges. "There's no shortage of work around here, but while we wait for Osnitz and his people to complete their jobs, there's no reason why you can't find Thanksgiving dinner somewhere tonight."
"Yes, Sir."
When the last meal is served, Rick isn't sure what parts of him are more tired, his shoulders or his feet. Amid chaos, Kate still managed to send off a rescue text, but of course, Rick had no use for it. He and Dean worked side by side on the only thing that mattered. Dean even volunteered to help clean up. Rick has no idea what his next review from the celebrated author will be like, but he knows what he'll say about the next Katz opus, not to mention the next Katz recipe.
Rick has no idea when or if Kate will make it home that night, but he still has family coming, and Alexis shoved the turkey in the oven many hours ago. After all the prep he and Kate did the night before, it's shouldn't be too hard to put the holiday meal together. Maybe he'll even ask Mother for a little help. Her cooking leaves a lot to be desired, but she does set an artful table.
Montgomery lays a hand on Kate's shoulder. "You've been here almost 14 hours. Tired cops make mistakes. Go home. See your family. Get some rest, and be ready to go back to work first thing in the morning."
"How about you, Sir? You've been going as long as I have."
"Evelyn and the kids are waiting dinner for me, and Evan recorded the games. I'll have my phone in my pocket, but I'll answer it from home. You did good work, Beckett. Take enough downtime to do more of it."
Lanie isn't sure whether to call ahead or just knock. If no one's there, the restaurant down the block from the loft is better than the ones near her apartment. She has nothing to lose.
Rick answers the door and waves Lanie in with a grin. "I'll get another place setting." Kate is lighting white tapers on a table, with Martha, Alexis, and Jim Beckett already seated around it. "We should say an extra prayer today," Jim Beckett suggests, reaching for his daughter's hand. Taking a seat on the other side of Kate, Rick nods. As heads bow around the table, the senior Beckett begins to say grace.