Free The Vesuvius Isotope (The Katrina Stone Novels) by Kristen Elise Ph.D. Page A

environmental sciences and has a boyfriend I’m not too crazy about. But he’s nice enough, so I guess I should consider that an improvement over some of the others.”
    I smile, but I am embarrassed. My daughter’s taste in men seems to follow closely with my own. Until now, I realize, as I gaze across the table at the monumentally successful, charming, and handsome man who has become a promising love interest over the past three days.
    Jeff chuckles softly.
    “When I was still working exclusively on anthrax,” I say, “Lexi was living with me half of the time. In her earlier teens, she was a bit of an unholy nightmare. At a time when I couldn’t trust my daughter at all , I also had Homeland Security tracking my every move.
    “You are correct that I developed a treatment for a virulent strain of anthrax, but you also know it was only effective on that strain. So the threat of anthrax remained, and I became the United States’ poster child for anthrax research. Between my daughter’s unpredictable behavior and my well-publicized work, I was worried something would come to a head.
    “Then opportunity began guiding my career toward cancer research, so I embraced it. I thought it would be a safer career path…”
     

    My food arrived, and I tore my eyes away from the Bay of Naples. I glanced around and noticed that the serenading guitarist and accordion player were now singing at another table.
    The food was like a drug, and I had to force myself to eat slowly. I dove into the plate of poached salmon with lobster cream sauce on a bed of pasta, and the effects of thirty-six hours of adrenaline began to wane. My stomach gradually settled, and my mind began to clear. At last, I paused for a break from the food.
    A large clock on an exterior wall of the restaurant now read 2:33 p.m. It was just after 5:30 a.m. in California. I tried calling Alexis again, this time from Jeff’s phone. There was no answer.
     

    “ Prego, signora. ” My waiter laid the bill before me and bowed politely.
    I dropped Jeff’s cell phone back into my purse and was rummaging for my wallet when the phone began to ring. I glanced at the caller ID. The incoming call was not from Alexis as I had expected. It was from John—Jeff’s best friend and personal physician.
    I recalled the last time I had spoken to John, when he had called our home after Jeff had missed the Seattle conference. I could feel myself scowling all over again as I answered the phone. “Hi, John.”
    “Oh, hey, Katrina! How are you doing, my lady?”
    “I’m doing great!” I lied. “How are you? I’m assuming surf’s up or you wouldn’t be calling so early…”
    John laughed heartily. “Oops, I’m sorry! Yes, I forgot again. Hope I didn’t wake you. Anyway, I’m doing great, except I can’t seem to get hold of your husband! Did he tell you to answer his phone and get rid of me?” He cracked up at his own joke. I laughed as well, hoping to sound realistic.
    “We were supposed to go golfing this weekend,” John continued. “Jeff totally ditched me! Is he still having problems from the stomach flu he had earlier?”
    I reflected briefly upon a bout of illness Jeff had endured two weeks prior. Now, I wondered if my husband’s “stomach flu” might have been, in truth, morphine withdrawal.
    “Nah, nothing like that,” I said. “But he is currently off surfing. We’re in the Bahamas, actually. I guess he must have forgotten to tell you we were going, but, yeah, we’ll be here for the next two weeks. We needed a break.”
    John’s joking demeanor changed. “Oh yeah?” he asked with some concern. “In that case, I hope you’re getting some rest. It’s no wonder, with the way the two of you work, that you’d burn yourselves out once in a while. Well, tell him that Mai Tais and sunscreen are doctor’s orders, OK? And hey—have him call me when he has a chance, would you, dear?”
    “Will do, John. You take care.”
    “You, too, my lady.”
    I