Lab Notes: a novel by Gerrie Nelson Read Free Book Online Page A

Hematec?” Vincent asked.
    “Affirmative. They’ve been developing lab tests, exclusively. We beat them to the market with the test for Swine Flu. Then Pete Sabedra jumped ship and joined us. I’d say the folks at Hematec are rather miffed at us right now.” Raymond chuckled.
    The smell of butter and garlic wafted up from the galley and Raymond took a deep whiff. At that moment, Colton Fey, the ship’s captain, arrived on the scene and Raymond made the introductions.
    “Colton here will take over so we can go below and have a bite to eat… unless you’d like to take the helm for a while.” Raymond winked at Colton. “I’m sure Colton won’t mind sitting in the copilot seat.”
    Vincent enthusiastically volunteered to take the wheel. Raymond switched on the autopilot then forced his collar closed at his throat and reattached his bow tie. “Let me give you a quick briefing.” He pointed down the channel. “It’s clearly marked. We draw seven feet. If you see you’re getting into less than twenty feet of water, steer her back toward the center a little. I have our way points punched into the GPS in case this fog gets any denser. Have you ever used satellite navigation?”
    “On road trips,” Vincent said.
    “Good.” He cut his eyes to Colton. “Colton here can answer your questions if anything comes up.”
    Colton nodded, his smile glowing an eerie red in the reflection from the instrument panel.
    Vincent settled into the helmsman’s seat, and for a moment he was an awe-struck kid again, sitting on his grandfather’s lap behind the wheel of his Buick sedan. He ran his palms part way around the wheel, then back to the center.
    Raymond excused himself and went below.
    By 9:30 p.m. the Enterprise had docked in Galveston. Thoroughly sated guests enjoyed an after dinner cappuccino or Courvoisier on the upper and lower decks. After playing a set of old standard dance music, the musicians took a break.
    Vincent had gone off with Raymond and Charlotte Bellfort and Carlos Carrera to board the tall ship, Elissa , docked nearby. Diane had begged off the tour stating that her short-cropped satin jacket would not be adequate against the cool night air.
    She sat on one of the Enterprise’s upholstered bar stools, sipping a cappuccino. From outside the pockets of laughter, she watched the crowd in an attempt to pierce through all the revelry and assess the aggregate that was BRI. In conversations throughout the evening, she had been mostly unsuccessful at penetrating the heart of the organization. Party dresses and tuxes were accessorized with sterling party manners. Any attempt at delving into company policies and politics was met with a wall of pleasantries.
    Before dinner, Charlotte Bellfort had made sure Diane met everyone on board the yacht. She was impressed that BRI even had a staff veterinarian; David Crowley was his name. He was handsome in a rawboned kind of way. However, his amusing Southern adages (spoken with a Texas drawl that conveyed an easy-goin’ sense of meetin’ ‘round the cracker barrel) clashed with his tailored tux, taut jaw and watchful eyes. She saw him as a target of opportunity and hoped to chat with him again after dinner. But he seemed to have jumped ship when the boat docked in Galveston.
    Charlotte had also introduced Diane to Maxine Boudreaux, the BRI business manager. Maxine was a thick-bodied, slender limbed young woman who was oddly attractive. Her hearty welcome and patent assuredness had strongly indicated she was in charge, despite Charlotte Bellfort’s bluster.
    Charlotte had even swept Diane through the restaurantsized galley when Andor, the Hungarian chef, and his assistants were putting finishing touches on the lobster thermador. Andor was a comical figure whose half-moon eyebrows seemed to be raised in a perpetual question. In response to his introduction to Diane, Andor had thrust a teaspoon of sauce in her direction and commanded: “Taste for salt.”
    Diane followed