dry and sleep muffled his vocal chords.
“Terry Sheffield?”
“Yes.”
He tugged at the curtains. Sunlight smashed him in the face, and he jerked them shut again. He squinted, looking for a clock. The DVD player displayed 10:10.
“Mr. Sheffield, it’s Pamela Dawson.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Who?” but recollection filtered through the haze. Pamela Dawson had hired him atGenavax, in the nearby city of Vacaville. She was his new boss, and he was their new senior research associate.
“Oh, hi, Ms. Dawson. How are you?”
“A lot better than you by the sound of it.”
Terry cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’ve just woken up. Jet lag, it’s a powerful thing.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She didn’t sound convinced.
He injected some life into his voice. “How can I help you, Ms. Dawson?”
“It’s Pamela. We are not formal at Genavax.”
You could have fooled me
, Terry thought. “Okay then, Pamela.”
“I wanted to check to make sure you had arrived as scheduled and that you would be starting Monday morning.”
“Ah, we might have a problem there.”
“A problem?” A hint of frost breathed out from the receiver. “What kind of problem?”
“My wife is missing. She didn’t turn up at the airport to collect me yesterday, and she didn’t come home last night.”
“And what has this got to do with Genavax?”
Damn fool question to ask
, Terry thought. He knew it was a dog-eat-dog world in the US, but American business couldn’t be as callous as this, could it?
“I would like to find my wife.” He did his best to make his tone civil and not adversarial. He could thank Pamela Dawson for one thing. She’d helped lift the sleep haze that fogged his mind. He was awake and pissed off.
“I understand that, but it shouldn’t get in the way of your job.”
“I’m afraid it will for the moment. Surely you can understand that?”
“Terry, we went to a lot of time and expense to hire you, not to mention the concessions we made. We hired you on your reputation before your immigration status was finalized. I don’t thinkwe’ve ever done that for anyone else. Genavax has a lot invested in you. I would hate for it to come to nothing.”
Wasn’t she getting it? Terry collapsed into the easy chair. “I’m not sure I’m making myself clear. My wife is missing. She could be dead, for all I know. I would like to take some time to find her.”
“Mr. Sheffield,” she said, “I fully understand the predicament you find yourself in, and I sympathize with your plight. But we are not a charity. We have a business to run. Biotechnology is a make-or-break industry. We are not Glaxo or Pfizer. We are a company without an FDA-approved drug yet. That means we have no income. We need every employee to be a team player. You are a team player, aren’t you?”
Terry’s grip tightened on the phone. He didn’t like threats, and he took Pamela Dawson’s last statement to be one. He bottled his knee-jerk reaction.
“I need to file a missing person’s report with the county sheriff. Can I call you back? By that time, I’ll have a better idea of where I stand.”
“Of course.” She reeled off her telephone number. Terry found a pen on top of the stereo and scribbled the number on the back of his hand. “I’ll expect your call.”
“Good.”
“When you start on Monday, don’t forget to bring your green card, passport, and things of that nature.”
“I’ll call you this afternoon.”
Terry went to hang up, but Pamela wanted a final shot. “Oh, Terry?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t make me regret hiring you,” she said and hung up.
“Thanks for nothing,” he muttered and tossed the phone at the couch.
A long shower washed away Terry’s jet lag and irritation. Afterward, for the first time, he felt in tune with his new time zone.
He didn’t bother with breakfast and went straight to Sarah’s computer to check her e-mail. He’d received more than a couple dozen replies to
“Terry Sheffield?”
“Yes.”
He tugged at the curtains. Sunlight smashed him in the face, and he jerked them shut again. He squinted, looking for a clock. The DVD player displayed 10:10.
“Mr. Sheffield, it’s Pamela Dawson.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Who?” but recollection filtered through the haze. Pamela Dawson had hired him atGenavax, in the nearby city of Vacaville. She was his new boss, and he was their new senior research associate.
“Oh, hi, Ms. Dawson. How are you?”
“A lot better than you by the sound of it.”
Terry cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’ve just woken up. Jet lag, it’s a powerful thing.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She didn’t sound convinced.
He injected some life into his voice. “How can I help you, Ms. Dawson?”
“It’s Pamela. We are not formal at Genavax.”
You could have fooled me
, Terry thought. “Okay then, Pamela.”
“I wanted to check to make sure you had arrived as scheduled and that you would be starting Monday morning.”
“Ah, we might have a problem there.”
“A problem?” A hint of frost breathed out from the receiver. “What kind of problem?”
“My wife is missing. She didn’t turn up at the airport to collect me yesterday, and she didn’t come home last night.”
“And what has this got to do with Genavax?”
Damn fool question to ask
, Terry thought. He knew it was a dog-eat-dog world in the US, but American business couldn’t be as callous as this, could it?
“I would like to find my wife.” He did his best to make his tone civil and not adversarial. He could thank Pamela Dawson for one thing. She’d helped lift the sleep haze that fogged his mind. He was awake and pissed off.
“I understand that, but it shouldn’t get in the way of your job.”
“I’m afraid it will for the moment. Surely you can understand that?”
“Terry, we went to a lot of time and expense to hire you, not to mention the concessions we made. We hired you on your reputation before your immigration status was finalized. I don’t thinkwe’ve ever done that for anyone else. Genavax has a lot invested in you. I would hate for it to come to nothing.”
Wasn’t she getting it? Terry collapsed into the easy chair. “I’m not sure I’m making myself clear. My wife is missing. She could be dead, for all I know. I would like to take some time to find her.”
“Mr. Sheffield,” she said, “I fully understand the predicament you find yourself in, and I sympathize with your plight. But we are not a charity. We have a business to run. Biotechnology is a make-or-break industry. We are not Glaxo or Pfizer. We are a company without an FDA-approved drug yet. That means we have no income. We need every employee to be a team player. You are a team player, aren’t you?”
Terry’s grip tightened on the phone. He didn’t like threats, and he took Pamela Dawson’s last statement to be one. He bottled his knee-jerk reaction.
“I need to file a missing person’s report with the county sheriff. Can I call you back? By that time, I’ll have a better idea of where I stand.”
“Of course.” She reeled off her telephone number. Terry found a pen on top of the stereo and scribbled the number on the back of his hand. “I’ll expect your call.”
“Good.”
“When you start on Monday, don’t forget to bring your green card, passport, and things of that nature.”
“I’ll call you this afternoon.”
Terry went to hang up, but Pamela wanted a final shot. “Oh, Terry?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t make me regret hiring you,” she said and hung up.
“Thanks for nothing,” he muttered and tossed the phone at the couch.
A long shower washed away Terry’s jet lag and irritation. Afterward, for the first time, he felt in tune with his new time zone.
He didn’t bother with breakfast and went straight to Sarah’s computer to check her e-mail. He’d received more than a couple dozen replies to
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