Page 14 of About Last Night

"No," she said, swinging her gaze toward the revolving door. Flashing lights outside the front entrance caught her attention. Two ambulances and several police cars had arrived, along witha van that bore a familiar insignia: the Centers for Disease Control. A knot of people stood outside, as if in conference, and she recognized the general manager she'd been talking to earlier as one them. The revolving door turned and, to her amazement, Derek walked back in, his expression as dark as a thundercloud.

"He's back," she said into the phone.

"Steve?"

"No, Derek. Hang on a minute, sis. Something is happening in the lobby." With every turn of the door, more and more suited and uniformed personnel filtered into the lobby of the hotel. Mr. Oliver walked in, and his smooth face seemed especially serious.

A terrible sense of foreboding enveloped her. Janine waved at Derek and motioned him toward her. He seemed none too pleased to see her again, but he did walk toward where she stood, his gait long and agitated.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"I don't know. A deputy said I couldn't leave and asked me to come back inside."

A man in a dark suit and no tie lifted a small bullhorn to his mouth. "Could I have your attention, please?"

The lobby quieted, and for the first time, Janine realized just how crowded the expansive space had become. Her lungs squeezed and she breathed as steadily as she could, trying to hedge the feeling of claustrophobia. Standing next to Derek didn't help because his big body crowded her personal space. She stepped as far away from him as the phone cord would allow, which garnered her a sharp look from his brown eyes. With much effort, she resisted the urge to explain and gave the doctor her full attention.

The man had paused for effect, sweeping his gaze over the room. "My name is Dr. Marco Pedro, and I'm with the Centers for Disease Control here in Atlanta. As you can see, several dozen people have been stricken with an illness we are stilltrying to identify. With Covid so recent in our memory and an outbreak of E. coli contagion on the west side of town, we can't be too careful."

Janine's knees weakened with dread. Because of her medical training, she knew what the man's next words would be.

"So, until further notice," Dr. Pedro continued, "guests cannot leave the premises. Every individual in this facility is officially under quarantine."

Chapter 5

JANINE'S HEARTdropped to her stomach. "A quarantine?" she whispered.This can't be happening.

Next to her, Derek muttered a healthy oath that corresponded with the collective groan that went up throughout the lobby.

"Janine," Marie said in her ear. "What's going on?"

"The CDC just put the place under quarantine," she croaked. "I'll call you back." Then she hung up the phone.

"Was that Steve?" Derek asked.

"No, my sister," she replied, distracted by the uproar.

Angry guests were on their feet, firing questions at the doctor:

"For how long?"

"But I have to leave tomorrow!"

"Am I dying?"

Dr. Pedro held up his hands. "One at a time. We will answer your questions as soon as possible. The symptoms at this time don't appear to be life-threatening. For obvious reasons, we don't know how long the quarantine will last, but I estimate you'll be detained for at least forty-eight hours."

"Oh no," Janine murmured. The lobby erupted into utter chaos. A few people tried to make a run for the exits, but security guards had already been posted. Her heart tripped faster when she realized she was confined to the building and might be for some time—a claustrophobe's nightmare.

"There's no need to panic," the doctor continued in a raised, but soothing voice. "Believe me, ladies and gentleman, the quarantine is for your own protection and for the protection of the people outside these walls with whom you would otherwise come into contact."

As a health professional, Janine knew her first concern should be her own welfare and the safety of those around her, but as a bride-to-be, her thoughts turned to wedding invitations, ceremony programs and honeymoon reservations, all with a big red Cancel stamped on them. She swayed and reached for something to steady herself, meeting soft cotton and solid muscle.

"Easy," Derek said, righting her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." She swallowed. "But my mother is going to have a stroke. We'll have to postpone the wedding."

One corner of his mouth slid back. "Gee, and the rest of us only have to worry about a slow, painful death from a mysterious disease."

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