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Contagious Scott Sigler 22920K 2022-07-22

“They were obviously infected later,” Margaret said. “Whatever it is, something they touched, something they ate, the infected members of the family were exposed at the same time. That still doesn’t give us clues toward the vector. Amos, did Tad say anything?”

Amos shook his head. “Turns out he’s been grounded for a while. The parents left him alone at the house a few times. They could have picked it up shopping, running errands.”

“The follow-up FBI team will interview him,” Dew said. “And maybe they can get something when they run the background checks on the McMillians.”

Margaret reached across the table and grabbed Dew’s hand. “Dew, that’s all well and good, but we already have someone who was infected. If Perry would open up, provide us an overview of his behavior in the days leading up to his infection, that would give us something to work with. Can you talk to him again?”

Dew rolled his eyes. “What the f.u.c.k is this, International Pile On Phillips Day? I just had this conversation with Murray, thank you very much.”

“Right,” Margaret said. “And what did fearless leader say?”

“He said I have to find a way to reach Dawsey. Sound familiar?”

Margaret leaned forward, both elbows on the table. She pointed her fork at Dew. “You’ve threatened Perry, and that hasn’t worked. You’ve tried tricking him, following him so you could knock him out before he killed the hosts, and that hasn’t worked. Have you tried just being nice to him?”

“Be nice to him?” Dew said, his voice rising. He pointed at Milner and Baumgartner. “Look at their faces, Margo, and then tell me we should be nice to Dawsey.”

Margaret tilted her head to the right. “And what were those men going to do when they caught up with Perry, Dew?”

Dew didn’t say anything.

“Well? Come on, out with it.”

Dew ground his teeth. “They had orders to Taser him.”

“Then what?”

Dew looked away. “Then put him in handcuffs and inject him with a knockout drug.”

Margaret just nodded and smiled. This woman was too smart for her own good.

“You’ve been nice to him,” Dew said, surprising himself by how petulant he sounded. “Look how far that’s gotten us.”

“Dew, I’m female. Maybe this is a news flash to you, but Perry’s opinion of women in general isn’t all that high. I spent a lot of time with him when he was recovering. I can be nice all day, and he’ll be nice back, but he doesn’t listen to me.”

“That’s s.e.xist,” Dew said. “I’m rather appalled.”

Margaret nodded. “And we don’t have several months of sensitivity training to get through to him. If we’re going to reach him now, a man needs to connect with him.”

“So what the f.u.c.k do you want from me, Montoya?” Dew said. “You want me to whip up a game of poker? You want me to take a warm shower with him and hold his hand until the wee hours of the morning?”

“No,” she said. “And stop quoting Clint Eastwood movies. How about you start simple—did you ask him to join us for breakfast?”

Dew just blinked. It hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Huh,” Otto said. “I never thought of that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Amos said. “I’m not sitting at a table with that guy. He might mistake me for a breakfast burrito.”

“Maybe a half stack of mini-pancakes, you mean,” Otto said.

“I want my menu back,” Amos said. “Maybe I’ll order some Black Forest ham and flush it down the c.r.a.pper.”

“Oh, Amos,” Otto said, smiling as if he’d just had the most helpful idea in the history of man. “Are you upset because you can’t see over the table? Should I ask the waitress for a child’s seat?”

“Like I haven’t heard that one a million times.”

Dew reached out and squeezed Margaret’s elbow, then stood.

“Where you going?” Amos asked.