Terminal

Getting out of the car, Harris stared at the house. It was amazing how much light emanated from it. Shrubbery three houses away cast sharp shadows. As he walked up the driveway, he noticed the name on the mailbox was Alice Widdicomb. He wondered how she and Tom were related.

Mounting the front steps, Harris rang the bell. As he waited he eyed the house. It was decorated in a plain style with faded pastel colors. The trim was badly in need of paint.

When no one responded to the bell, Harris rang again and put his ear to the door to make sure the bell was functioning. He heard it clearly. It was hard to believe no one was home with all the lights on.

After a third ring, Harris gave up and returned to his car. Rather than leave immediately, he sat staring at the house, wondering what could motivate people to illuminate their house so brightly. He was just about to start his engine when he thought he saw some movement by the living room window. Then he saw it again. Someone in the house had definitely moved a drape. Whoever it was seemed to be trying to catch a peek at Harris.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Harris climbed out of his car and went back to the stoop. He leaned on the doorbell, giving it one long blast. But still no one came.

Disgustedly, Harris returned to his car. He used his car phone to call Glen to see if Tom Widdicomb was scheduled to work the next day.

“No, sir,” Glen said with his southern accent. “He’s not scheduled to work until Monday. Good thing, too. He was under the weather today. He looked terrible. I sent him home early.”

Harris thanked Glen before hanging up. If Widdicomb wasn’t feeling well and was home in bed, why all the lights? Was he feeling so bad he couldn’t even come to the door? And where was Alice, whoever she was?

As Harris drove away from Hialeah he pondered what he should do. There was something weird going on at the Widdicombs’. He could always go back and stake out the house, but that seemed extreme. He could wait until Monday when Tom showed up for work, but what about in the meantime? Instead, he decided he’d go back the following morning to see if he could catch a glimpse of Tom Widdicomb. Glen had said he was of medium height and medium build with brown hair.

Harris sighed. Sitting in front of Tom Widdicomb’s house was not his idea of a great Saturday, but he was desperate. He felt he’d better make some headway on the breast cancer deaths if he was interested in remaining employed at Forbes.

SEAN WAS whistling softly while he worked, the picture of contented concentration. Janet watched from a high stool similar to Sean’s that she’d dragged over to the lab bench. In front of him was an array of glassware.

It was at quiet times like this that Janet found Sean so appealingly attractive. His dark hair had fallen forward to frame his downturned face with soft ringlets, which had an almost feminine look in stark contrast to his hard, masculine features. His nose was narrow at the top where it joined the confluence of his heavy eyebrows. It was a straight nose except for the very tip where it slanted inward before joining the curve of his lips. His dark blue eyes were fixated unblinkingly on a clear plastic tray in his strong but nimble fingers.

He glanced up to look directly at Janet. His eyes were bright and shining. She could tell he was excited. At that moment she felt inordinately in love, and even the recent episode at the funeral home receded into her mind for the moment. She wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her that he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

“These initial silver stain electrophoresis gels are fascinating,” Sean said, shattering Janet’s fantasy. “Come and look!”

Janet pushed off her stool. At the moment she wasn’t interested in electrophoresis gels, but she felt she had little choice. She didn’t dare risk lessening his enthusiasm. Still, she was disappointed he didn’t sense her affectionate feelings.

“This is the sample from the larger vial,” Sean explained. “It’s a non-reducing gel so you can tell by the control that it has only one component, and its molecular weight is about 150,000 daltons.”

Janet nodded.

Sean picked up the other gel and showed it to her. “Now, the medicine in the small vial is different. Here there are three separate bands, meaning there are three separate components. All three have much smaller molecular weights. My guess is that the large vial contains an immunoglobulin antibody while the small vial most likely contains cytokines.”

“What’s a cytokine?” Janet asked.

“It’s a generic term,” Sean said. He got off his own stool. “Follow me,” he said. “I’ve got to get some reagents.”