“Darcy,” Heather said. “When was this picture taken?”
“That’s from, like, months ago,” Darcy said. “Somebody took it during Christmas break, I think.”
“This isn’t recent?”
“No. Like I said, she brings it out, then she threatens people with it, then she sucks it back in. Or, you know. Kills people. She says she can get away with it because it’s not murder, it’s disease. And she laughs. She terrorizes people with it. The whole town’s like in fear of her.”
“Darcy, listen to me very carefully,” Heather said. “Is what you’re telling me true? All of it? Or is there any part you might be exaggerating, or not explaining clearly?”
“It’s true,” Darcy said. “And I prayed on it, and then I started thinking maybe it’s not witchcraft, maybe it’s science. Like that immune carrier thingy you were talking about.”
“But you’re saying she can express her symptoms at will?” Heather said.
“Yeah. Or maybe she can’t really control it—like when I get hives on my butt after I eat cheese—it breaks out, and then she just acts mean when it breaks out. I dunno. I’ve been thinking about it too much.”
“So you’re saying she has occasional breakouts, but then they go away?” Heather asked.
“Right,” Darcy said. “But you don’t want to touch her because she’s contagious. That’s why she wears gloves all the time. Jenny Mittens, that’s something else people call her. She’s kind of a freako.”
Heather remembered her visit to Jenny’s house. The girl had been wearing a pair of blue cloth gloves—that stuck out because it had been a hot, sticky day, no reason for her to wear them. The gloves were too clean and lightweight for gardening. Also, Heather thought it was odd that the girl never took them off, even when Heather was examining her, until Heather asked to take her blood.
And Heather remembered one more thing—the girl had sighed in relief when Heather strapped on the disposable rubber gloves. She remembered that because nobody felt relief at the sight of a doctor slipping on gloves. Taking them off, maybe.
“Dr. Reynard?” Darcy asked.
“Yes. Hold on a moment.” Heather’s mind was racing. There were three possibilities. One, the photo was a fake of some kind. Two, the girl Jenny had previously been infected with the x-pathogen, but showed no signs when Heather examined her. Three, the picture was newer than Darcy said, and Jenny had become infected after Heather examined.
Options two and three each indicated a separate outbreak from the single incident they knew about. Either possibility required immediate action.
“Okay, Darcy?” Heather said.
“Yeah?”
“What else can you tell me about this?”
“Uh…that’s about it, I guess.”
“How certain are you about when this picture was taken?”
“Kids were passing it around school in January. That’s all I really know.”
“Okay. If you think of anything else, you call me. In fact, here’s my cell number.” Heather gave it to her. “Have you seen Jenny lately?”
“Just around town,” Darcy said. “She’s usually riding with Seth Barrett. He’s the boy in the picture. He never gets sick, though.”
“You’ve seen her since you saw this picture?”
“Oh, yeah. That picture’s from a while ago. I kept it ‘cause it was so weird.”
“Does she look sick to you?”
“No, she looks fine,” Darcy said. “Like I said, that disease thing comes and goes with her.”
“Okay. Thank you so much, Darcy. I’ll call you back if I have any questions.”
“Um, better text my cell phone,” Darcy said. “My dad’s kind of a lame-o. He gets mad if the phone rings too much.”
“Okay, I’ll text you. Bye, Darcy.”
Heather looked up Jenny Morton’s lab results on the investigation database. If there was anything unusual, it was the girl’s completely perfect health.
She wasn’t satisfied. Never mind the lab reports—she wanted to go look at the specimens herself.
But first, she would stop by Schwartzman’s office. He would know somebody discreet at Homeland Security, somebody who could get her every available piece of information on Jenny Morton. And on the Goodlings, while they were at it.
It looked like Jenny Morton might be carrying something deadly. Heather didn’t want to think about what could happen if Jenny decided to leave her little house in the woods and carry the pathogen right into some unsuspecting city.