“You’re welcome to spend the night,” said Tad.
Marissa pushed herself to her feet. “Thanks, but I really should go home.”
“I’m sorry about the lab,” said Tad, bending to kiss her.
“I understand,” said Marissa. She headed out the door before he could get his arms around her.
Tad waited until he heard the outer door close before going back inside his apartment. On the one hand, he was glad that he’d had the sense to resist her manipulations. On the other, he felt badly that he’d disappointed her.
From where Tad was standing he was looking directly at the shelf where he’d left his access card and keys. Still thinking about Marissa, he realized that one of his cards was gone. He carefully looked through all the junk he’d removed from his pockets and then searched the shelves above and below. His spare card was gone.
“Damn!” said Tad. He should have expected a trick when she’d given up so easily. Opening the door, he ran down the stairs and out into the street, hoping to catch her, but the street was empty. There wasn’t even a breath of air in the humid night. The leaves on the trees hung limp and still.
Tad went back to his apartment, trying to decide what to do. He checked the time, then went to the phone. He liked Marissa, but she’d gone too far. He picked up the phone and began dialing.
Driving to the Center, Marissa hoped Dubchek hadn’t warned the guards she was no longer working in virology. But when she flashed her identity card the guard on duty just smiled and said, “Working late again?”
So far so good; but as a precaution, Marissa first went to her own office in case the man decided to follow her. She turned her light on and sat behind her desk, waiting, but there were no footsteps in the hall.
There were a few letters on her blotter: two advertisements from pharmaceutical houses and a third from Lab Engineering in South Bend. Marissa ripped this third one open. A salesman thanked her for her inquiry concerning their type 3 HEPA Containment Hoods and went on to say that such equipment was only built to custom specifications. If she was interested, she should retain an architectural firm specializing in health-care construction. He ended by answering the question that had prompted her letter: Lab Engineering had built only one system in the last year and that had been for Professional Labs in Grayson, Georgia.
Marissa looked at a map of the United States that her office’s previous occupant had left hanging and which she’d never bothered to take down. Poring over Georgia, she tried to find Grayson. It wasn’t there. She searched through her drawers, thinking she had a Georgia road map somewhere. Finally she found it in the file cabinet. Grayson was a small town a few hours east of Atlanta. What on earth were they doing with a type 3 HEPA Containment Hood?
After putting the road map back in the file cabinet and the letter in her blazer pocket, Marissa checked the hallway. It was quiet, and the elevator was still at her floor; it had not been used. She decided that the time was right to make her move.
Taking the stairs to descend one floor, Marissa left the main building and crossed to the virology building by the catwalk. She was pleased that there were no lights on in any of the offices. When she passed Dubchek’s door, she stuck out her tongue. It was childish but satisfying. Turning the corner, she confronted the airtight security door. Involuntarily, she held her breath as she inserted Tad’s card and tapped out his access number: 43-23-39. There was a resounding mechanical click and the heavy door swung open, Marissa caught a whiff of the familiar phenolic disinfectant.
Marissa felt her pulse begin to race. As she crossed the threshold, she had the uncomfortable feeling she was entering a house of horrors. The dimly lit cavernous two-story space, filled with its confusion of pipes and their shadows, gave the impression of a gigantic spider web.
As she’d seen Tad do on her two previous visits, Marissa opened the small cabinet by the entrance and threw the circuit breakers, turning on the lights, and activating the compressors and ventilation equipment. The sound of the machinery was much louder than she’d recalled, sending vibrations through the floor.