That Perfect Place Read online

  She pretty much had to wake him up to get him to take the ibuprofen. She turned off his alarm and set her own for a bit earlier than her usual time so she could do morning chores for him, then settled down to sleep herself.

  Jake, of course, woke up when her alarm went off.

  “Go back to sleep for a bit,” Jill said, looking at this arm. It was grossly swollen but not infected. She redressed the wounds and got him an ice pack and some more ibuprofen.

  “I’m too hungry to sleep,” he said, getting up and stretching. “I’ll make breakfast while you shower.”

  “One poached egg on toast for me.”

  “I don’t know how to poach an egg. I only know fried or scrambled.” He looked sheepish.

  “When we get some time you and Brad are getting cooking lessons. Anyone as skinny as you should learn to feed himself properly.”

  Little did Jill know then, free time would be a long time coming.

  obody noticed anything wrong until Jim went to restock his truck. At least ten vials of antibiotics were missing and several boxes of syringes and small-sized needles. Jake was in his office canceling the surgeries at the animal shelter as his arm was too stiff to operate when he heard the commotion and came to investigate.

  “Jake, I know we only used two vials out of this box. I opened it just the day before yesterday.” Jim was angry. “Another thing, I saw that little black Cobalt with the Cyclone tag again on my way home last night. Do you think Dr. Mirza did this? He would know where to look and the code for the overhead.”

  “Christ, I don’t know. We’ll change the code.” He turned toward the offices and yelled, “Jeanine, why isn’t anyone answering that phone?”

  “It’s the press again. We have pretty well all their numbers figured out by now.”

  Jake grabbed the extension. “Hello,” he shouted, “I have no comment except this: do not call this number unless you have a sick animal. We are running a hospital here.” He slammed down the phone. Probably a dumb move, but at least I feel better.

  Jeanine called the sheriff and their insurance agent and then a security company. They were going to order a monitoring system. Two break-ins in as many months was unheard of in rural Iowa. Her brother called the agent from Homeland Security.

  “Agent Halloran, I don’t know if it is at all connected, but we have had a theft here of several types of antibiotics—all of which would be useful in treating anthrax. I thought you might like to know.”

  “Could these vials be traced somehow?”

  “There are control numbers on each batch. The receipt we have on file could be used to trace the batch number.”

  “Send it to me as soon as possible. And Dr. Gundersen, report anything else that strikes you as odd, especially unattended cattle or goats in a new location. Something very serious is going on here, and my job is to find out what and stop it as soon as possible. Your medical and service background could be very helpful to us.”

  “Certainly. I’ll inform my colleagues to be vigilant as well. We’ll have those numbers for you within the hour. Also, Dr. Mirza was seen in the area last night.”

  “Yeah, we’re aware of his activities. Thanks.”

  He no sooner hung up than Steve Brandeis called.

  “Jake, Zeus died sometime early this morning. His body was still warm when I got here. Apollo is hanging in there, but he seems worse again, too.”

  “I’ll be down before noon, Steve. I have to cancel a few things here first.” He rubbed his head in frustration. Zeus was the lion that had bitten him, and he’d been lively enough the preceding evening. “Is everybody else OK? Watch out for the hooved stock especially. They are the most susceptible.”

  “No new cases. But Carlos is on intravenous antibiotics. That thing doesn’t seem to be getting better.”

  “Is the CDC still keeping in touch?”

  “Yeah, they are baffled too.”

  “All right. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  His first appointment had already arrived. It was a horse with a hoof abscess, so he opened a hole to drain the pus and applied a dressing and a hoof boot. While he was doing so, Jeanine was canceling everything she could so he could get down to the zoo. On his way down, he called Halloran again and let him know about the lions relapsing and Carlos Lopita’s problem.

  “This is what we suspected. We think they are trying to perfect an antibiotic-resistant strain. Keep me posted, Doc.”

  Apollo was definitely backsliding. His digestive tract would still not accept food. Jake took a blood sample and used Steve’s somewhat primitive lab to check it. There was no doubt that Apollo was experiencing renal failure. The post on Zeus showed the same problem. The vet changed the antibiotics, added probiotics, and gave the lion a huge dose of vitamin D. He called a mentor in California and discussed the case with him. They both agreed that things had probably already progressed to the lethal stage. Jake ended the conversation and gave Steve and Maggie the bad news.

  The three friends sat by the cage for a bit and commiserated. Maggie was very upset. She was the one responsible for procuring feed for the animals.

  “I used the same service I have always used. They claim everything came from normal sources. I just don’t understand it.”

  “We caught it early on and treated it with the standard protocols. I can see Zorro dying—he was pretty old—but the younger cats should have responded. In fact, none of the animals should have gotten sick from that carcass. The treatment from the renderers should have eradicated enough of the spores.”

  He told them about Halloran and his statement that this was not a natural occurrence.

  “You’re not in any danger are you? Especially after that bite?” Maggie asked.

  “I started on some heavy-duty antibiotics last night, and I’m waiting for the CDC guy to bring me a booster. If I’m not OK then this thing probably can’t be stopped.”

  Both showed real concern at that. Jake shrugged it off.

  “I was vaccinated a while back. I won’t get it.”

  “We’re going to need some more of the chlorine dioxide to clean this place,” Steve said, trying to sound normal. “Also, what can we do to insure our meat supplies aren’t contaminated?”

  “For now, heat. Your carnivores are going to have to accept cooked meat for a while. Anthrax spores are pretty resistant and can live for very long periods of time. Call the CDC guy and verify with him on temperatures and cooking times.”

  “Will do. Thanks, Jake. I don’t guess we’ll be out socializing this weekend,” he lamented.

  “Yeah, I finally have someone I want to show off to the whole world, and we can’t seem to get much free time together.”

  “We couldn’t be happier for you. Jill is one of those people that make you happy just to know her.” Maggie gave him a hug.

  “Go on home, big guy. We’ll let you know when the vigil is over,” Steve said.

  “Keep the IV running and give him another shot of D in three hours. Keep me posted. If you’re sure you can handle this I’ll go. I do have a bunch of work hanging over my head.”

  “And an arm too sore to do it,” Steve added.

  “It’s part of the glamour of the job.” Jake smiled ruefully. He popped some antibiotics and draped an icepack over his arm for the drive back to Jesup.

  He had called his sister and gotten a list of stops as he went north. He was doing absolutely no cattle work until the anthrax thing settled down. Jim had found a kid just out of high school to ride out with him, so he was able to cover a good bit of the county. Most of their cow people were still OK with Dr. Cullen after being assured he had been nowhere near the infected animals.

  Jake’s first stop was a boarding stable where he gave a few flu boosters and floated an old horse with bad teeth. He did some flexion tests on a sore barrel horse and surreptitiously adjusted its lower spine as he examined him, knowing the owner didn’t believe that chiropractic could help.

  “I don’t think this is too bad,�
� he told the owner. “Let’s give him three days off with a gram of bute a day and maybe do more trot work on hills for conditioning instead of so much loping. I’m going to suggest a joint supplement, and I want to check your saddle fit.” He showed her where the saddle was rubbing and gave her the name of a therapeutic pad to try.

  Jake took the Brandon Diagonal and headed west to his next stop. He was passing a farm he knew to be recently abandoned and ready for auction when he nearly slammed on his brakes. There was a herd of about six mixed-breed cattle and one Angus with an ear tag. He turned around as soon as he could and went by more slowly. From this angle he could see a small red SUV parked in the garage. He continued past and pulled over to call Halloran. The phone went straight to voice mail, and so he left a message with the address and why he thought the location was suspicious. He hung up and turned to head back to his next call.

  He had just turned north on V 65 when a red SUV came screaming up on his tail. It tailgated him for about a mile and zoomed by when Jake slowed to make a turn. He got a good look at the driver. He had dark, curly hair and a full beard, and resembled Dr. Mirza.

  Halloran called him back just as he turned into the farmyard. “I have ordered the farm put under surveillance. We’ll try to sneak in and get some blood samples. The cows do match McCaffrey’s description. Thanks, Dr. Gundersen.”

  “I may have been seen,” Jake reported. “A red SUV was parked in the garage when I went by and just minutes ago, one in the same shade of red tailgated me for a mile and zoomed off when I turned. I can give you a partial description of the driver.”

  “Shit. Hopefully they won’t move any evidence before we get there. Put me on speed dial and keep your eyes peeled. And be careful. We’re the guys who get paid to take the chances. I’ll have someone come over this evening to get your description.”

  Jake got out of his truck and went back to being a vet. He had been called in to treat some lambs who were exhibiting blindness and inco-ordination. The husbandry on the farm seemed clean and sanitary, and their diet was good. Suspicious, Jake put some fresh water in a bucket. He could smell the sulfur.

  “Have you had your water tested lately?”

  “It always smells bad when you first run it, but the smell goes away after it sits a bit.”

  “Too much sulfur causes polio-encephalomalacia. Have you had this problem before?”

  “Never. This is the first year we’ve had lambs at this location. I inherited the land from my folks. Usually our youngsters are at the farm on old route twenty. What do we need to do?”

  “We can treat them with thiamine. I’m going to tube them with some electrolytes and get some nutrition into them. Keep them confined and make sure they are getting a thiamine supplement every day. It will be a few days before we can tell if they are permanently affected. You may lose a few. I’d suggest you either haul water in or move them back to your other location. Give all the sheep on this property the thiamine supplement daily.”

  It took nearly two hours to get them all dosed. The polio had been caught early, so there was hope for the lambs.

  His phone had rung several times while he was with the sheep, and he checked it now. Steve had called but not left a message. Fearing the worst, he called them before he dealt with Jeanine’s calls.

  “Jakob,” Maggie answered. “you won’t believe this, but Apollo seems much better. We gave him the second dose of the D stuff and about an hour later he stood up and drank some water. I gave him some chicken, and he gobbled it up and kept it down so far.”

  “Son of a bitch, that’s great. Keep up with the chicken every few hours and make sure he stays well hydrated. Call me if anything more comes up, but if not, I’ll be down late afternoon tomorrow.”

  “I’ll make him a big vat of chicken-and-rice soup.”

  “Wouldn’t hurt, if he’ll eat it.”

  “I was joking.”

  “I wasn’t. Talk to you later, Maggie.”

  Next he checked in with home base.

  “We are a bit swamped here, if you can get back, Jake. But call Strawberry Point vets on your way. They have a case of anthrax in a dog. I thought dogs were immune.”

  “Not totally. If they eat infected meat they can get it, same as with the lions. I’m on my way now, say twenty minutes. Bye.”

  Jake called Strawberry Point and spoke with the vet there. The necropsy had shown cow meat in the stomach, and they had confirmed the presence of Anthrax bacillus. More importantly the dog was from the vicinity of the Stanley farm where Donny McCaffrey said he had dropped off the cows. He gave them the CDC agent to call and Todd Halloran’s number.

  On a whim, instead of turning onto Route 20 for Jesup, Jake went east into Independence and swung by Donny and Caroline’s house. The place was closed up, but he could hear the window air conditioner running in the back bedroom. Through a chink in the blinds he could make out a shape on the bed in Brad’s room. The back garage door key was in its hiding spot, and he quietly let himself in. The house was empty, almost no furniture and very little food. Caroline must have taken it all with her. He went into the bedroom cautiously. Any thoughts of getting information from McCaffrey quickly vanished.

  Donny was on the bed gasping for air. He was barely conscious. Jake called an ambulance. Donny’s chest sounds weren’t good—inhaled anthrax in an advanced stage unless he missed his guess. Caroline might not need a divorce this time. He did what he could to make the sick man comfortable and checked the rest of the house. There was nothing obvious to point to where Donny had been or who he was working for. His logbook only listed the legitimate runs. The Angus that had died of anthrax had been brought in a stock trailer pulled by Donny’s pickup, so there was no way to get a mileage estimate.

  Once again, Jake called Halloran and filled him in. As soon as the ambulance arrived he headed home. The sheriff was waiting for him out front when he got there.

  “I ought to take you in, Gundersen. Your guy has been traipsing all over my county spreading disease. If I find you are behind this, nothing’s going to keep me from tearing you apart.”

  “Joel, I have no idea what you are talking about. I thought you were here about Donny.”

  “What about Donny?”

  “An ambulance just picked him up at his house. He should be at the County Health Center by now. Unless I am wrong, he probably has a case of inhaled anthrax that’s pretty far along. His chances aren’t too good.”

  “How did you find him?”

  “I just thought I’d see if there was anything in the house to shed some light on where these cows are coming from, but all I found was him. This is getting serious. We have a dead dog in Stanley with a confirmed case. You need to find out everywhere Donny took those cows he shipped in. All of them need to be accounted for, and if they’ve been allowed to graze, that area is now contaminated. I’ve been in touch with a homeland security guy. Let me give you his number, and you can work with him on this.”

  “This is my county. I’ll run this investigation as I see fit.”

  “Of all the—” Jake checked his temper. “Suit yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have patients who need my attention.”

  Steph heard Jake say something that sounded suspiciously like “fucking fool” as he passed her on the way to his office.

  It wasn’t until after he left that Jake remembered that the sheriff had claimed his guy had been spreading the disease. Did he mean Jim or maybe Mirza? Jim had told him twice about seeing the little black car.

  It took all his concentration to focus on treating animals with all that was happening. He helped Jill clear out the waiting room and the three equine cases in the holding stalls out back. Jim got in around six, but the other two worked until nearly eight o’clock. By that time, Jake’s arm was so stiff he could hardly close his hand and his right leg was all knotted up again. He pulled off the prosthetic as soon as he got to the house.

  Brad had dinner ready for them. He had made spaghetti and heated up a few
breadsticks. Jill gave him a hug, while trying not to notice the mess the stove was in. She said he was one in a million. He blushed at the compliment but looked pleased. He hoped that meant he’d be forgiven when his dad discovered the spoon mangled in the disposal and the broken glass.

  After dinner, Jake soaked in the hot tub and had a shot of whiskey. His eyes were closed, and he looked half-asleep when Jill eased herself in with him.

  “No more emergencies, please,” he said, moving over to give her room next to him. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to Jim. How are things with him? Have we lost many of our cattlemen?”

  “Strangely enough, three dairies. I think a few beef producers canceled appointments, but I’m not sure if it’s the anthrax scare or not. You’ll have to ask him or your sister on that. We’re doing more anthrax vaccinations to offset things.”

  “If we don’t see any more cases, I think we’ll be all right. It’s strange that Donny dropped those cows in the north of the county and the dead cows showed up in the very southern part.”

  “I heard about Donny, how awful. Does he have much of a chance?”

  “Hopefully his problems were mostly dehydration, but his chest sounds weren’t good. We never got along—he was always a big mouth—but damn, I wouldn’t wish anything like this on anybody.”

  “I heard the sheriff stopped by. What did he want?”

  “He said something odd about my man going all over spreading the disease, but he didn’t elaborate. After I told him about Donny, he took off. I don’t know if he is delusional or what his problem is but I don’t think he grasps the severity of the situation.”

  “How did he ever get to be sheriff?”

  “A huge extended family, probably. McCaffreys are related to nearly everybody around here.”

  “Let’s get some sleep. How about I work for you tomorrow?” she said, climbing out of the tub after him.

  “No, you only get one day of golf. I’ll be fine if I get eight hours in tonight. But thanks.”

  He pulled her to him, and she tasted the whiskey as he kissed her. Her head started to swim, but it wasn’t the alcohol.