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Personally, I could wring your neck, John.”
    Annabelle thought she actually heard a tiny whimper alongside her. She couldn’t stand this guy, but she took no pleasure in watching him get skewered.
    Linus jumped in. “You’re right, Yelena. We have to decide how to go on from here. I’ve already told the FBI that we don’t have to tell them anything.”
    “And my lawyer says the feds won’t prosecute because it will make them look bad,” Lee interjected with hope. “They don’t want to be seen as beating up on a journalist who was only exposing a public danger.”
    “Is that how you see yourself, John? A brave journalist whose sole aim was to protect the public?” The sarcasm in Yelena’s voice was cutting as she rose from her desk and walked to the window. “Funny, but I think that your own ambitions had a little something to do with this.”
    He should have kept his mouth shut, thought Annabelle. She was more determined than ever to speak only when asked.
    Again, Linus interrupted. “Let’s face it, Yelena. Ambition is the name of the game. I can’t think of any reporter worth his salt who doesn’t want to be on the air, telling his story. That’s what a reporter does, that’s what he works for and fights for. KEY News is not going to look bad in this thing, Yelena. We look like heroes, telling the public what they need to know. That’s how we play this.” He pounded his hand on the arm of the chair for emphasis. “And though it’s the dirty little secret, that’s how we get ratings.”
    With the light streaming in from the window behind her, Yelena’s large frame loomed. The others in the room waited for her to speak.
    “Believe it or not, I’m not all that worried about ratings right now, Linus. My instinct is to can John. But, at the moment, I can’t. I think it’s best to stand beside him for the time being. But, believe me, it’s an uneasy alliance.”

Chapter 14
    By the time the car pulled out on the New Jersey side of the Lincoln Tunnel, Jerome Henning had given the driver a new destination.
    “Essex Hills Hospital, in Maplewood, please.” He then suggested they go west on Route 280, glad that he’d hired the car service. There was no way he could deal with taking his usual train to the suburbs.
    It was getting harder to breathe, his chest was so tight. This didn’t feel like any flu or virus he’d ever had before. He had to get to a doctor, but since he had no personal physician, the emergency room of the hospital nearest his home was probably the best option. Maybe he should have gone straight to a New York City hospital. People always seemed to assume that those were superior to the ones in Jersey. He should have asked Annabelle what she thought.
    He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, having to muster unusual concentration to think of the number and push the buttons on the keypad. The phone rang five times before transferring to the answering message.
    “Hi. This is Annabelle Murphy, medical producer for KEY to America. I’m either on another line or away from my desk, so please leave your name, number, and the time that you called and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Or you can try me on my cell phone.” Annabelle’s recorded voice recited the number.
    After the beep, Jerome managed to speak. “Annabelle, I’m on my way home, to Essex Hills Hospital, actually. I was going to ask you what you thought about it, but I guess the Jersey docs can fix me up. Sorry I couldn’t make our lunch today. I still want to hear what you think about the book. I’ll try to call you later.”
    He was snapping the phone closed when he remembered he had wanted to warn Annabelle about the unlikely office snoop and chide her for leaving the manuscript out where someone could read it, but he hadn’t the energy to call back on either her cell phone or her office line.

Chapter 15
    “Do you think we should have nasal swabs taken?”
    Wayne Nazareth was waiting for Annabelle when