Lethal Exposure Read Online Free Page A

extended the full coffee cup. “Here you go—a Grande double espresso. I thought you’d need it.”
    Craig took the cup gratefully. The first rich sip burned his tongue, but the second warmed his chest like a shot of smooth, single-malt scotch. “Thank you,” he said. “Sorry you had to get here so early.”
    “Anything to meet a friend,” Goldfarb said. “Besides, I got to watch the Concord come in about an hour ago. Very slick. It’s a promotional event from British Airways this month, O’Hare direct to New Delhi, India. They say it decelerates over Lake Michigan so the sonic boom doesn’t knock out any windows.” He gestured down the long concourse. “The little bird is still parked at the gate. You can go see it if you want.”
    The supersonic jet aircraft was indeed something Craig would like to see as part of his interest in high-tech gadgetry, but he just wanted to get the day started, freshen up in the rest room where he could shave and prepare himself to meet Trish. He took another swallow of his coffee, a big one. “I’ll catch it on the way out.”
    Goldfarb led the way from the gate. “I checked with the Chicago SSA about the explosion at Fermilab, let him know we’d be in town. Some kind of substation or blockhouse blew up near the accelerator. The case agent is a guy named Schultz—lots of Germans around here—and he’s just starting the investigation, looking into various kinds of explosives, terrorist connections. Doesn’t have many leads yet, though.”
    “What about the murder victim?” Craig asked, then sipped more coffee.
    Goldfarb shrugged. “That’s the funny part. Some scientist got a radiation overdose, but he wasn’t close to any of the blockhouses—and he certainly wasn’t murdered. The explosion at the blockhouse happened after hours, and the place was deserted. They’re just toolsheds for diagnostic equipment. No record of any person nearby getting killed, or even injured.” He paused. “I think Trish’s just yanking your chain. Crying wolf because she knows you’ll come running out here.”
    Craig scowled. “We’ll find out as soon as we get there. I’ve arranged to meet her at the Fox River Medical Center in Aurora, Illinois. It should be about an hour drive.”
    “I already rented the car,” Goldfarb said. “The best I could get us was a Ford Taurus, gold. Hope that doesn’t shatter Trish’s image of you.”
    Craig brushed the comment aside. “She goes by Patrice now. And I’m not concerned about my image with her. Just here to help out, that’s all.”
    “Whatever you say, boss,” Goldfarb said. He was quiet for a moment, as if there was something else on his mind. He scratched the back of his head. “Say, didn’t Paige Mitchell get assigned here too?” He raised his eyebrows in an impish expression.
    Craig nodded brusquely and headed off to the rental-car pickup with Goldfarb close beside him, surrounded by airport crowds.
    Goldfarb pulled their rental car up to the Fox River Medical Center, a brick-walled hospital built sometime in the late 1960s, surrounded by grass and tall oak trees. The medical center butted up against the languid Fox River, which meandered across the flatlands of Illinois, through the old city of Aurora. Tree-lined walkways sliced across the hospital grounds, interrupted by scattered benches and a few drinking fountains. The trees were spotted with yellow, red, and gold leaves, showing the first signs of the coming winter.
    Inside, Craig paced the lobby, glancing up too quickly every time the elevators dinged and the doors opened. He caught Goldfarb watching his reactions in bemused silence. “What?” demanded Craig.
    Goldfarb spread his hands. “Nothing.”
    When Trish finally emerged from the elevators, she wore a neat, white uniform, moving with confident grace. Craig froze. He suddenly forgot all of the clever opening phrases he had intended to say.
    Trish spotted him instantly and came right over, tossing her