Dangerous Tides (Drake Sisters 4)

"Near where the Ibenkiki cyperus plant grows in the Peruvian rain forest is a fungus called the Balansia fungus. It contains alkaloids and naturally infests the Ibenkiki plant. I thought the Balansia is the source of the medicinal properties, but Harry discounted my findings and only used parts of the Ibenkiki without Balansia. His theory is that the fungus is much like an invading cancer, taking over the cells of the plant."

Libby frowned. "You're talking about ergot alkaloids. Many of the ergot alkaloids have a poisonous effect on the central nervous system. It can be very, very dangerous. That's how LSD was discovered. And I have to tell you I suspect, along with many others, that that's what led to the frenzy of witch trials here in America in the 1600's. The colonists ate poisoned rye and people hallucinated and went a little off the deep end. And before you argue with me, I'm very well aware, dopamine is a derivative and is used to treat Parkinson's disease and that ergot fungus is the base for many of the drugs fighting migraines."

"It's all about serotonin. Don't you see that? It makes perfect sense. I know I'm right, Libby. I always feel it when I'm on the right track and this is it. The drug has to contain a certain amount of Balansia. We have to determine those amounts. The chemistry of the brain, particularly that of the adolescent brain, remains an essential field for investigation."

She pulled into the driveway of his house. "Good luck, Ty. If you don't meet me at the house tonight, I'll come looking for you."

"I'll be there. I've got a few errands to run, but I can't really work here in such a mess. I might be back and forth though, trying to salvage what I can." He leaned over to kiss her.

"I'll pick up some groceries this afternoon and stock the house with a few supplies," Libby promised.

Tyson slipped out of the car, his mind already racing with the possibilities. There was so much to do. First and foremost, he was going to call Edward Martinelli and let him know about the potential to fix any problems with the drug.

Sam was lying on the couch, holding an ice pack to his face when Tyson let himself in. He shoved the pack under a pillow and managed a wan grin. "I didn't expect you. I took a couple of days off work. I figured black eyes and a broken nose and sore ribs were just a bit too much. I doubt I'd be of much use."

Tyson hesitated, struggling to shift gears, trying to think of everyday details instead of allowing his racing mind to dictate that he ignore his cousin's needs. "Did you eat? I can get you food or something to drink," he offered.

Sam's mouth gaped open. "What?"

"I was just worried maybe you hadn't eaten," Tyson persisted, feeling a bit like a fool. "I can make you something."

"Like what?" Sam challenged.

Tyson shrugged. "Eggs with curry in them."

"Curry?" Sam echoed faintly.

"Curcumin is the yellow pigment used in curry spice and currently is being investigated for its potential in prevention of Alzheimer's disease. The curcumin appears to block and break up brain plaques that cause the disease."

Sam stared at him for a long time. "You're giving me a headache, Ty. I don't want eggs with or without curry. I'm going to take a couple of sleeping pills and sleep the day away."

Tyson nodded and started out of the room.

"Where were you last night? You didn't call and I was worried. I knew you were going to talk to Ed."

"I'm sorry." Tyson rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Ed said he never sent those men after you. I'm wondering if Harry had something to do with it. And yesterday I asked Libby to marry me."

There was dead silence. The clock ticked loudly. Sam sat straighter, twisting his fingers together hard before looking up. "Are you sure that's what you want, Ty?"

"I've known for a while. I bought a house close by. Things won't change that much, Sam. I'm only here three months out of the year as it is."

Sam sighed. "If you're really sure, there isn't much I can say. I hope you're happy with her. I really do." His face brightened a bit, although his smile was still strained. "At least I can attend all the Drake family get-togethers. That's something to look forward to. The guys at the firehouse are going to be jealous." He stood up and made his way to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. "What are you doing today?"

"I've gotten a lead on what might be causing problems with this drug. I need to salvage some of my equipment if possible, so I'll probably be in and out this afternoon taking things to the other house where I can work."

"Don't worry, I won't hear a thing once I take those pills. I've only used them once and I was dead to the world." He went halfway up the stairs and paused again. "Ty?" He waited until Tyson turned around. "I am happy for you. If Libby Drake makes you happy, then I'm all for her."

Tyson stood there, feeling a bit awkward, trying to hide the flood of emotion that acceptance from Sam had brought. He flashed a wide smile hoping it conveyed even a tenth of what he felt. "Thanks, Sam."

Tyson called Edward Martinelli to get the okay to put his team on studying the healing properties of the Balansia fungus. He explained quickly his reasoning and that he wanted his team to study the brain of the adolescent, begin another study on serotonin receptor activity, and run analytical tests as well. He was rather proud of himself for remembering to ask how Martinelli's family was doing and wasn't surprised to hear Libby had been right. Both Eva and Robbie were in treatment for Chagas's disease.

He had to run down the members of his team, none of whom were happy that their vacations were being cut short, but most of them agreed to return to the laboratory and begin work. Tyson spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening sifting through the wreckage of his lab and packing Sam's truck to take the equipment to the new house.

It took longer to unpack the load at the house than he counted on and once he got there he could see that he had missed Libby. Towels hung in the bathrooms and there were groceries in the cupboard and refrigerator. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had time for one more load if he hurried.

As he returned to the Chapman house, he could see Harry pacing back and forth on the front porch. For the first time ever Tyson had actually remembered to lock the front door and for this he was grateful since Sam was sleeping unawares upstairs in his room.

Tyson sat in the truck, hands on the keys, debating whether he wanted to risk another unpleasant argument with Harry.

"Get the hell out of that truck, you coward." Harry jumped off the porch, ignoring the three stairs. "You stole my project right out from underneath me."

"I take it the director called you?" Tyson asked as he slid from the truck and shut the door. "You knew it was going to happen if you didn't look at the problems, Harry. Instead of spending all your time in Sea Haven, you should have been back at the lab working out the kinks with the drug. You knew when the first trial was completed that there were warning signs of trouble and instead of addressing them, you went on to the second trial. Not only did you endanger lives, but if you were interested in getting the drug on the market, you risked that as well."

Harry doubled his fists and glared

at Tyson. "I'm getting out of BioLab. Martinelli backs you every time you want to run wild. All you have to do is call him and he calls the director and the rest of us have to kowtow to you. You think you're protected by him, but he can't hold your hand outside the lab. I'm taking you down, Derrick."

"Are you threatening to kill me?"

"I'm not stupid enough to threaten to kill you. You'd just run to your sheriff friend like a scared rabbit. Do I want you dead? Hell, yes! That would make my day. It would make my life complete and be a relief to the world. Believe me, I'd be ecstatic and so would most of the others working for BioLab. But before you ever die, I want you to lose everything important to you. Your godlike reputation. Your girlfriend. Your money. Your home. Everything. That's how much I hate your guts."

"Go away, Harry. Don't take shortcuts and you won't have the problems you're always running into."

Harry took a threatening step forward. "Don't give me any advice. The only reason a total antisocial misfit like you has a job anywhere is because you're Martinelli's stoolie."

Tyson shrugged his shoulders. "I can't help you, Harry, because you're not bright enough to figure it out. You worked for three different companies before you came to BioLab and I knew your sloppy rep before you were ever hired. It's a small community."

Harry spat on the lawn. "This isn't over. You've messed with the wrong man."

"Harry, that's just nasty, but you're in good company. Cobras, camels and llamas spit. There are quite a few animals that express anger that way."

Harry gestured rudely with his finger and stomped off. Tyson shook his head and went back into the house. Harry certainly was capable of slashing Libby's jacket to shreds and selling pictures to a magazine. He might even rig an explosion in the laboratory, but Tyson just didn't think he had the brains to rig an accident on a helicopter rescue. He paused halfway down the stairs. Maybe the harness had simply been defective. His fall could have truly been an accident. Harry certainly could have been behind everything else that had happened.

Tyson thought of Harry Jenkins as an unintelligent, inept biochemist, but he wasn't. The man was capable of good work, he just didn't have the patience it took for research.