Debby Giusti - Countdown to Death

Luke tried the front door. Locked.

He raced to the back of the house, tried the knob and was ready to crash through when he raised his eyes.

A woman stood in the second-story window, frantically pounding her hands against the glass.

Climbing onto the porch railing, Luke shimmied up the column, then hoisted himself onto the ledge. Reaching the window, he pounded on the glass.

“Move back,” he warned. She stepped aside, and Luke twisted his jacket around his hand, raised his fist and shattered the glass.

He grabbed the woman and guided her to the windowsill.

“I’ve got you. We jump on three. One. Two. Three.”

They jumped just before the room exploded, spewing a ball of fire into the night.

is a medical technologist who loves working with test tubes and petri dishes almost as much as she loves to write. Growing up as an army brat, Debby met and married her husband—then a captain in the army—at Fort Knox, Kentucky. Together they traveled the world, raised three wonderful army brats of their own and have now settled in Atlanta, Georgia, where Debby spins tales of suspense that touch the heart and soul.

Contact Debby through her Web site, www.DebbyGiusti.com, e-mail debby@debbygiusti.com or write c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

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May your kindness, O Lord, be upon us

who have put our hope in you.

—Psalms 33:22

To all medical laboratory professionals,

especially my former coworkers at

Peachtree Regional Hospital

To Tony, Liz, Joe, Mary, Katie and Eric

Your love and support mean so much to me

To Darlene, Annie and Anna

To Emily Rodmell, Jessica Alvarez

and Deidre Knight

Thank you!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Allison Stewart’s future hung in the balance. Her job. Her research. Her attempt to make a difference.

Two years working on a new laboratory test to detect blood-borne pathogens, and the board still couldn’t decide if she deserved additional funding.

Pulling in a calming breath, she slipped her hands into the powdered latex gloves and snipped off a segment of tubing from three units of blood.

Collected at a South Georgia blood draw earlier in the week, the units had been transported to Magnolia Medical’s laboratory in Atlanta for processing. Ensuring the blood was safe for transfusion was top priority.

The units had passed the routine battery of tests.

They’d flunked Allison’s.

She spun the segments in the centrifuge, then transferred the top layer of golden serum into the analyzer.

The test was a semiautomated procedure. Rapid, if not reliable.

Given time, she’d work out the kinks.

The instrumentation clicked into operation.

If she believed in the power of prayer, this would be the time to ask for help. But God had turned His back on her years ago. No reason anything would change today.

Discarding her gloves, she wiped her damp palms against the side of her lab coat. Behind her, footsteps sounded across the polished tile floor. She turned as Veronica Edwards, the research department’s laboratory manager, entered the special projects area.

“I thought you’d be tied up all afternoon with the directors.” Allison noted her supervisor’s drawn face and furrowed brow. Evidently, the meeting hadn’t gone well.

“The board cut your funding.”

Allison’s chest tightened. “Did you tell them I’m optimistic about perfecting the procedure?”

“They’re focused on cost reduction, not sinking more money into a laboratory test that, with time, may detect a rare prion disease.”

“A rare but fatal prion disease,” Allison corrected her.

“Which has never posed a significant problem in the U.S.”

The muscles in Allison’s neck tensed. “Great Britain didn’t think it had a problem until the prion outbreak there. Remember the havoc mad cow disease caused? We’re still restricting donations from people who lived in Europe during that time for fear they will infect our blood supply.”

Veronica sighed. “I understand the significance of your research. If we can find a way to identify the dormant prion protein, we can lift the European restriction.”

“And end the blood-shortage crisis. Magnolia Medical would control the patent on a test sure to be adopted in every blood-donor center throughout the country. The revenue alone would—”

“But two years with no hint of success, Allison. It’s over.”

The analyzer stopped. Thirty seconds and the results would feed to the monitor.

Time to come clean. Her supervisor needed to be brought up to date.

“I ran random specimens yesterday from that last blood draw, expecting the units to be negative. Three reacted so I tested them again this morning with the same results.” Allison tried to smile but knew she fell short. “They say the third time’s a charm. I repeated the procedure just now.”

Allison glanced at the monitor as the results rolled across the screen. “The levels are identical to the first two runs.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning three donors will soon develop neurological symptoms that will eventually lead to death.”

Veronica stepped closer. “The likelihood of picking up a single positive specimen—let alone three—in one blood draw is—” her eyes widened “—unheard of.”

“We never had a rapid, cost-effective test to screen donor blood before.”

Veronica held up her index finger. “A test that’s still in the experimental phase.”

Do or die. Allison was gambling everything on the next bit of information she needed to share.

“The three positive specimens came from donors who live in the same small town—Sterling, Georgia.”

The lab manager’s eyebrow shot up. “You accessed their personal donor data?”

Allison nodded. “According to the information I found online, the area is a haven for deer hunters. Maybe the men ate venison from deer with chronic wasting disease. I’ll drive to Sterling after work tonight. If I talk to the men, I may find a common link.”

Veronica shook her head. “I don’t like it.”

“Three days and I should have an answer.”

Veronica caved. “Two days. But watch what you say. I wouldn’t want anyone to be told they have a fatal disease because of a questionable result from a test that’s far from ready for clinical use. And no contact with the media. We don’t want any wild stories about an outbreak of mad cow disease in Georgia. Invalid test results would blacken Magnolia Medical’s good name.”

“But the test is valid,” Allison said with conviction.