Outbreak Read Online Free PDF Page A

Marissa.
    Dubchek nodded, and moved off as the doorbell rang again. This
    time Marissa was even more flabbergasted. Standing before her was Tad Schockley!
    "Marissa!" said Tad, genuinely surprised.
    Marissa recovered and allowed Tad to enter. While she took his coat, she asked, "How do you know Dr. Hempston?"
    "Just from meetings. I was surprised when I got an invitation in the mail." Tad smiled. "But who am I to turn down a free meal, on my salary?"
    "Did you know that Dubchek was coming?" asked Manissa. Her tone was almost accusing.
    Tad shook his head. "But what difference does it make?" He looked into the dining room and then up the main staircase. "Beautiful house. Wow!"
    Marissa grinned in spite of herself. Tad, with his short sandy hair and fresh complexion, looked too young to be Ph.D. He was dressed in a corduroy jacket, a woven tie and gray flannels so worn, they might as well have been jeans.
    "Hey," he said. "How do you know Dr. Hempston?"
    "He's just a friend," said Marissa evasively, gesturing for Tad to head into the living room for a drink.
    Once all the guests had arrived, Marissa felt free to move away from the front door. At the bar, she got herself a glass of white wine and tried to mingle. Just before the group was summoned into the dining room, she found herself in a conversation with Dr. Sandberg and Dr. and Mrs. Jackson.
    "Welcome to Atlanta, young lady," said Dr. Sandberg.
    "Thank you," said Marissa, trying not to gawk at Mrs. Jackson's ring.
    "How is it you happened to come to the CDC?" asked Dr. Jackson. His voice was deep and resonant. He not only looked like Charlton Heston; he actually sounded as if he could play Ben Hur.
    Looking into the man's deep blue eyes, she wondered how to answer his seemingly sincere question. She certainly wasn't going to mention anything about her former lover's flight to L.A. and her need for a change. That wasn't the kind of commitment people expected at the CDC. "I've always had an interest in public health." That was a little white lie. "I've always been fascinated by stories of medical detective work." She smiled. At least that was the truth. "I guess I got tired of looking up runny noses and into draining ears."
    "Trained in pediatrics," said Dr. Sandberg. It was a statement, not a question.
    "Children's Hospital in Boston," said Marissa. She always felt a
    little ill at ease talking with psychiatrists. She couldn't help but wonder if they could analyze her motives better than she could herself. She knew that part of the reason she had gone into medicine was to enable her to compete with her brothers in their relationships with their father.
    "How do you feel about clinical medicine?" asked Dr. Jackson. "Were you ever interested in practicing?"
    "Well, certainly," replied Marissa.
    "How?" continued Dr. Jackson, unknowingly making Marissa feel progressively uneasy. "Did you see yourself solo, in a group, or in a clinic?"
    "Dinner is served," called Ralph over the din of conversation.
    Manissa felt relieved as Dr. Jackson and Dr. Sandberg turned to find their wives. For a moment she had felt as if she were being interrogated.
    In the dining room Marissa discovered that Ralph had seated himself at one end of the table and had placed her at the other. To her immediate right was Dr. Jackson, who thankfully forgot about his questions concerning clinical medicine. To her left was the silver-haired Dr. Hayward.
    As the meal progressed, it became even clearer that Marissa was dining with the cream of Atlanta's medical community. These were not just doctors; they were the most successful private practitioners in the city. The only exceptions to this were Cyrill Dubchek, Tad and herself.
    After several glasses of good wine, Marissa was more talkative than normal. She felt a twinge of embarrassment when she realized that the entire table was listening to her description of her childhood in Virginia. She told herself to shut up and smile, and she was pleased when the