shop. I’ll recheck my emails and see if we’ve got any new information.’
She moved away and started chatting with John. He noticed the glances from passers-by as they walked through the terminal. Grace seemed to chat easily with people. She had a nice friendly nature, a killer smile and she appeared to be a good listener, all things that would make her an asset to the team. It would make her good with patients and give her the ability to integrate well with staff they might meet wherever they travelled.
They joined the queue and Grace frowned at the coffee selection.
‘What’s wrong? No skinny, caramel lattes?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, yeah, they’ve got them. They just don’t have any sugar-free caramel.’
‘Is it important?’
‘My hips seem to think so. And my thighs.’
‘Not from where I’m standing.’
She met his gaze. It was only the briefest of seconds. Everything else around her seemed to fade into the background. All she could see was the cheeky twinkle in his eyes.
It panicked her. What did that mean? Was he joking with her or was he flirting with her?
Her friends may have given her a physical makeover but they hadn’t done anything to sort out her woolly brain. Academically she could rival most of her colleagues but as for being street smart or worldly wise, she was neither. Never had been—never would be.
Her shoulder was a permanent reminder of that. The tiny tip of the knife still embedded in her tissues caused havoc every time she was near an airport scanner. The ER doc had done the best he could. It had been bad night in the ER and a surgeon hadn’t been available. The tip was apparently right next to some nerves and unskilled removal could have resulted in damage. The scar was already going to be ugly, so she’d decided just to take the patch-up job, the antibiotics and go.
She tore her gaze away from Donovan’s as she felt heat spread into her cheeks. She’d already used up her day’s supply of sassiness on the desk clerk. As they moved along the line and grabbed coffee her eyes fixed on his well-worn jeans and slouchy T-shirt. Her fingers itched to touch it. It looked so soft, so comfortable—the kind of material that her pyjamas were normally made from.
She shifted on her heels. She’d felt a million dollars walking out the door tonight. It hadn’t even occurred to her that the team would travel casual. Her heart had sunk like a stone when she’d realised how inappropriately dressed she looked in comparison to everyone else. This was going to be a long flight.
They settled at a table in the airport lounge, Donovan pulling out his laptop.
‘This is what we know.’ He gave Grace a little nod. ‘Jessie Tanner, sixty-seven, reported to her physician five days ago. She had a whole range of symptoms that she claimed to have had for around three days. She was physically and mentally unwell. Dehydration, confusion, diarrhoea, and her skin was described as red and covered in bumps. Their initial diagnosis ranged from scarlet fever to measles then rubella. Her condition deteriorated very rapidly and she didn’t respond to treatment.’
‘Did we miss something with Ms Tanner? I don’t ever remember her reporting symptoms like those.’
Donovan shook his head. ‘She didn’t. Not in any of the phone calls to the DPA. We checked our records—she’s phoned us over four hundred times, for a whole variety of reasons.’
David and John let out simultaneous groans. John ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Why do we get all the crazies?’
Donovan didn’t acknowledge the comment, keeping focused on the facts. ‘Our last call from Jessie Tanner was actually seven days ago. She never reported any symptoms then, just asked a range of questions about the bats that were near her home.’ He lifted his eyes from the screen. ‘That seems to have been the norm for Ms Tanner. Unfortunately, it looks like she might not have been as crazy as it seems.’
Grace leaned
She moved away and started chatting with John. He noticed the glances from passers-by as they walked through the terminal. Grace seemed to chat easily with people. She had a nice friendly nature, a killer smile and she appeared to be a good listener, all things that would make her an asset to the team. It would make her good with patients and give her the ability to integrate well with staff they might meet wherever they travelled.
They joined the queue and Grace frowned at the coffee selection.
‘What’s wrong? No skinny, caramel lattes?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, yeah, they’ve got them. They just don’t have any sugar-free caramel.’
‘Is it important?’
‘My hips seem to think so. And my thighs.’
‘Not from where I’m standing.’
She met his gaze. It was only the briefest of seconds. Everything else around her seemed to fade into the background. All she could see was the cheeky twinkle in his eyes.
It panicked her. What did that mean? Was he joking with her or was he flirting with her?
Her friends may have given her a physical makeover but they hadn’t done anything to sort out her woolly brain. Academically she could rival most of her colleagues but as for being street smart or worldly wise, she was neither. Never had been—never would be.
Her shoulder was a permanent reminder of that. The tiny tip of the knife still embedded in her tissues caused havoc every time she was near an airport scanner. The ER doc had done the best he could. It had been bad night in the ER and a surgeon hadn’t been available. The tip was apparently right next to some nerves and unskilled removal could have resulted in damage. The scar was already going to be ugly, so she’d decided just to take the patch-up job, the antibiotics and go.
She tore her gaze away from Donovan’s as she felt heat spread into her cheeks. She’d already used up her day’s supply of sassiness on the desk clerk. As they moved along the line and grabbed coffee her eyes fixed on his well-worn jeans and slouchy T-shirt. Her fingers itched to touch it. It looked so soft, so comfortable—the kind of material that her pyjamas were normally made from.
She shifted on her heels. She’d felt a million dollars walking out the door tonight. It hadn’t even occurred to her that the team would travel casual. Her heart had sunk like a stone when she’d realised how inappropriately dressed she looked in comparison to everyone else. This was going to be a long flight.
They settled at a table in the airport lounge, Donovan pulling out his laptop.
‘This is what we know.’ He gave Grace a little nod. ‘Jessie Tanner, sixty-seven, reported to her physician five days ago. She had a whole range of symptoms that she claimed to have had for around three days. She was physically and mentally unwell. Dehydration, confusion, diarrhoea, and her skin was described as red and covered in bumps. Their initial diagnosis ranged from scarlet fever to measles then rubella. Her condition deteriorated very rapidly and she didn’t respond to treatment.’
‘Did we miss something with Ms Tanner? I don’t ever remember her reporting symptoms like those.’
Donovan shook his head. ‘She didn’t. Not in any of the phone calls to the DPA. We checked our records—she’s phoned us over four hundred times, for a whole variety of reasons.’
David and John let out simultaneous groans. John ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Why do we get all the crazies?’
Donovan didn’t acknowledge the comment, keeping focused on the facts. ‘Our last call from Jessie Tanner was actually seven days ago. She never reported any symptoms then, just asked a range of questions about the bats that were near her home.’ He lifted his eyes from the screen. ‘That seems to have been the norm for Ms Tanner. Unfortunately, it looks like she might not have been as crazy as it seems.’
Grace leaned
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