Read Online In the Land of Milk and Honey by Jane Jensen - Free Book Online Page B

around curiously—and his eyes found Ezra, who’d followed me from the kitchen. The two men studied each other silently with a distinct air of sizing each other up.
    â€œUm . . . Glen, this is my boyfriend, Ezra. Ezra, this is Dr. Glen Turner.”
    â€œCall me Glen.” He held out his hand.
    â€œEzra.” Ezra shook Glen’s hand, but his face was closed off.
    â€œWhat’s happened?” I repeated.
    Glen straightened back up, his expression turning grim. “I’m on my way to Philly right now. People have been showing up at emergency rooms there with symptoms that sound like tremetol poisoning. Five people have died, two of them children.”
    â€œOh no!”
    â€œThe thing is—when doctors questioned them about what they’d eaten, all of them had consumed raw milk. And they all got it at a farmers’ market there in Philly, from a booth called Lancaster Local Bounty. The milk came from
here
, Harris.”
    â€œOh my God!” I put a hand to my head as if that would make the information easier to absorb. Maybe I should have felt a touch of vindication for my gut’s sake, but I felt nothing but horror, horror for what had already happened and fear about what was still out there.
    I turned and glared at Ezra. “What did I tell you! And you were drinking it at supper!”
    â€œSorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
    Glen watched the two of us warily. “Anyway, I talked to Grady and he said maybe you could contact the woman who runs that Lancaster Local Bounty booth. Find out where she got the supply she sold at the market on Tuesday, and find out if she sold it or gave it to anyone else. I’m sorry to ask, but my staff and I need to check out this Philly outbreak. If you can get a list of from her tonight, my team can run it down in the morning.”
    â€œOf course. I’ll go right away.”
    â€œThanks. You should call Grady. I think he wanted you to go with a partner. The woman’s name and address were sent to your e-mail. I’d, um, better go.” Glen looked at Ezra. “It was nice to meet you.” His tone was stiff and overly formal.
    A nod was Ezra’s only reply.
    An hour later, I stood outside a row house where Amber Kruger lived. It was squeezed on both sides by identical homes, like lovers trapped forever in an embrace. The street was in one of the trendy old neighborhoods of downtown Lancaster, the sort frequented by young urban professionals. It was gentrified enough that I was surprised to see recent graffiti. The narrow residential street had the word “cotton” spray-painted on the asphalt in two-foot-high neon yellow letters.
    Manuel Hernandez came jogging up with a welcoming smile. The ex-soldier was a relatively new detective and younger than me. He was my favorite peer in the department. Hernandez was tough but had a gentle spirit and was always eager to provide assistance, no matter how boring the grunt work.
    â€œHey, Harris.”
    I returned the smile. “Hi. Guess we’re both working late tonight.” I checked my watch. It was just going on ten o’clock, so hopefully our target would still be awake. “Grady give you a rundown?”
    â€œJust that you need to interview someone, and there might possibly be more legwork tonight, depending on what you learn.”
    â€œThat’s close enough. Ready?”
    â€œAlways! Let’s do this, boss,” Hernandez quipped.
    I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t Hernandez’s boss, but his light attitude made me relax, and I was grateful. I was glad I’d gotten Hernandez tonight. The Lancaster Police Violent Crimes Department was so small that I often worked alone or with whomever was available.
    I knocked on the row house door. It was opened by a thin young man in sweatpants, a T-shirt, and thick socks. “Hi. Can I help you?”
    I held up my badge. “Detectives