Jerry’s face darkened as he looked down to study his beer. Sheila felt a tug at the pit of her stomach and took a swig of her wine.
“That bad?" she prompted, when Jerry did not volunteer any information.
“Well, I was hoping for a few more happy minutes," he said finally.
“Sorry," Sheila said, touching his hand. “We can do that."
Jerry had been carrying this burden around with him for a while without the benefit of being able to share it with another human being. He had had a lot of sleepless nights, pondering the magnitude of what Dominex was doing. The fact that he had not only done nothing to stop it, but that he had actually warned the company when the situation was at risk of going public, did not make him very pleased with himself. His reason had neutralized the immorality of his actions. At least that’s what he had told himself at the time. Now he had the opportunity to share the burden with someone else.
Jerry pulled a thick stack of papers out of his wet briefcase. The papers did not show the wear of the weather or their long travel of the past few months. Silently, he handed them to Sheila. While she studied the information, Jerry polished off his beer and ordered them both another round of drinks. By the time she had finished reading the last page, she was ready for the glass the waiter presented. They drank in silence.
Sheila was the first to break their quiet reverie. “I can’t believe how many people were rendered completely disabled by that shit." Jerry shrugged and nodded, helpless to find the words to convey his disgust. “What I don’t understand," she continued, “is how in the hell can they present this to the FDA? Slightly less than half of the entire study group became so violently sick, that they either dropped out of the study and sought medical attention, or dropped out of the picture all together.”
“I know," Jerry said, finally finding his voice. “And when they did see a doctor, they weren’t even provided with real treatment. Oh, and one more interesting little tidbit,” he added. “That Pharmlab address is an abandoned house.” Jerry reached into his bag and presented her with several photos.
“This is a fiasco," Sheila marveled, looking at each picture.
“So, what do we do now?"
Sheila didn’t respond. She merely gave him a look that said, “You don’t want to know,” slipping the pages and pictures into her bag.
“Sheila, I can’t let you deal with this alone," he said.
“I have been dealing with this alone for a long time," she answered. “Don’t worry about me, really. I have been waiting for this moment, and now that it’s here, we need to celebrate."
“Then why doesn’t this feel like a celebration? I’m very confused."
Sheila studied Jerry’s face. He was a few years younger than her, but she felt that he was a kindred spirit. He was also a very handsome guy. She had been so pre-occupied that she hadn’t really noticed before.
Sheila took Jerry’s hand and said, “If you really want me to fill you in, I will."
He held her grasp, and said, “I do not want you have to deal with this alone."
Sheila wanted to leap over the table and hug him. She had had a taste of what it felt like to be close to other human beings and she was addicted. “Okay," she said, finally. “But you might need a six pack before I’m through.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
George Donovan hung up the phone and turned to his significant other, who was standing in the doorway. “Sally, we are having dinner with Jeff Edwards at six-thirty."
“What do they want now?" she grumbled.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure it has something to do with their public image." She closed the office door and sat in the chair facing his desk.
“This whole plan has been very reckless on their part," Sally remarked. “How far are you willing to go with this?"
“Let’s just see what they want first."
“You know," she continued, “we have done very well so far to avoid public scrutiny. I’m not willing to risk everything because Dominex needs to get their drug on the market."
Donovan began tapping his pen on his desk. They had been having this same discussion for weeks. He knew she was right, but he liked being connected with a big and powerful pharmaceutical company. He could see a brighter future, as long as he could stay in their pocket. They had already agreed to provide him with a lifetime supply of every drug they manufactured. He would fill prescriptions right there on the premises and then charge the patient for the medicine. His income would double over the course of the next few years.
“Sally," he said finally, “we have been all through this. We both know all about the risks involved in staying connected with them, but we also know about the potential money they represent.”
Sally just rolled her eyes at him.
“The money won’t mean squat in jail."
“You are being very dramatic. At this moment the only thing we are doing is offering these people vitamins or the option of going back on their meds.”
“Prior to this moment, they had us handing out sedatives and telling people they were vitamins. And let’s not forget the dead woman in exam room number two.” Sally’s voice began to rise in volume. “We’ve never had to call a medical examiner to come and pick up a dead patient before. Our patients do not go into withdrawal, much less die from it. Where is this going to end?”
“Sally, please calm down," Donovan said soothingly.
“No, wait," she continued. “If an employee at Dominex had not intercepted a phone call, we’d still be running that ridiculous scam. And don’t forget that the people they are continuing to send us are still at risk of the same outcome as that poor woman they hauled away in a body bag. Seizures are the number one and most likely result of abrupt termination of sedatives. How could they be so reckless?” She waited for Donovan to absorb her words. “Can you guarantee that what they ask us to do tonight won’t come back to bite us in the ass?"
Donovan knew she was upset and was smart enough not to disagree with her.
“Sally, let’s just find out what they want first, okay?"
Sally didn’t answer him. She just gave him a fiery glance.
“We have patients," she said, standing up to leave.
“Sally," Donovan whined, extending the first syllable to convey pleading.
“It’s fine George," she said to reassure him, although she did not sound reassuring at all. “We will wait and see. But this conversation is not over." And with that, she briskly walked out of the office.
Donovan watched her close the door and stared at the empty chair she had occupied. Things were different now. In their younger days, they were fearless. Every decision they had made had paid off. Now. there was an added issue. Sally was pregnant. They were both happy about the prospect of a baby, but they also knew that things were about to change. Sally wasn’t showing yet, and no one in the office knew anything, other than she had been taking more ‘”personal days,’” lately. Sally’s personal days were more like “camping out in the bathroom days.” When she was in the office, she was becoming a little more short-tempered and emotional. Donovan told the staff that it was stress.
In her present condition he would have preferred that she not be involved with Dominex at all. But she had been an integral part of his life and his practice. He couldn’t eliminate her from things now. Besides, she would never have allowed it. So, he would have to work through this new plan with Dominex very gracefully. She usually felt better by the evening. She would be more tired, but less queasy. He had suggested to Jeff that they go to her favorite restaurant. Maybe she would be in better spirits later. He hoped so, because he was determined to move forward.
&nbs
p; Donovan opened the door for Sally as they entered the busy restaurant. An attractive woman bumped into Donovan, as she and her male friend were leaving through the same door. “Oh, excuse me,” Donovan said and tripped over his own feet to grab the door for the woman. Sally just shook her head. “Would you have done a triple summer salt to grab the door for an ugly woman?"
“Sally, there are no ugly women."
“Yeah, right," she retorted.
Sally had nothing to worry about. She was a Lauren Bacall look-alike. Her curly, naturally blond hair was cut to shoulder length. Prior to her pregnancy, Sally could have been an underwear model. Recently, Donovan had picked on her mercilessly when she emerged from the bathroom, and he noticed a small belly forming. “I guess you’ll have to give your two week notice to Victoria’s Secret," he told her. Sally had just smiled and put her hands on the tiny protrusion.
“Yes, but I’ll be back," she announced.
Jeff Edwards was nowhere in sight, so the two decided to have a seat at the bar and wait for him. Donovan ordered a martini. Sally settled for a carbonated water. They were in deep discussion about a June wedding, when Donovan felt a tap on his shoulder.
“Sorry I’m late," Jeff explained. “The traffic…"
No one who lived in Atlanta ever had to finish a sentence that started with the word “traffic.”
“No problem," Donovan said. They stood from their seats at the bar as another couple swooped down to claim them.
“Hey, Sally," Jeff greeted. “How are you?"
“Hungry," she answered.
A waiter showed them to their table after a heated few moments about the smoking section. Donovan had little patience for incompetence. He had made the reservation himself and had specifically mentioned the smoking issue. They were both reformed smokers, which had hurled them into the “anti-smoking Nazi club.” In addition to their policy about second-hand smoke, the smell of it had become one of Sally’s biggest triggers for nausea.
“I can’t believe they allow that barbaric behavior in public places," Sally began, once they were seated. “It’s one thing if people choose to suck that poison into their lungs. It’s another when they have the right to make that choice for others. If heroin users walked around shooting up strangers, I bet people would have something to say about it."
Donovan let her ramble until she was finished. Of the two, she had become the worst anti-smoking Nazi. He was used to the speech. He heard it every time they went to a restaurant. Jeff looked at Sally in bewilderment. Donovan gestured to him to just let her vent.
“She’ll be okay in minute," he assured.
The waiter appeared for their drink orders, and Jeff suggested a bottle of wine for the table.
Sally and Donovan exchanged glances. “Uh, better make that two glasses of wine, and one caffeine-free coke.”
Jeff looked at Sally with one eyebrow extended upward.
“Busted," she said to Donovan.
The doctor filled Jeff in on Sally’s condition, and their wedding plans. When he had finished, the drinks arrived.
Jeff held up his glass. “To both of you. Congratulations."
“Thanks," Sally said. “Believe it or not, you’re the first one we have told."
“Wow, I’m honored," Jeff retorted.
“It was inevitable," Donovan added. “She won’t be able to avoid maternity clothes much longer.”
Sally gave Donovan a light punch on the arm.
“At least I won’t have to wear a maternity wedding dress," she laughed. “God, don’t you think that is the tackiest thing? Like she didn’t know she was pregnant until she lost sight of her feet."
“Yeah," Donovan added. “And it’s always a white dress. Give me a break.” Everyone at the table was still laughing when the waiter returned for their orders.
“Looks like you might need another minute," the waiter said when he looked down and saw that no one had even opened a menu.
“Well, I know what I want," Sally said.
“She always gets the same thing," Donovan explained to Jeff.
“Why tamper with perfection?"
“You are right about that," Donovan said, putting his arm around her.
“Can this dinner get any cuter, I ask you?" Sally said, enjoying the attention. Jeff motioned for the waiter to return. He was anxious to get down to the real purpose of their meeting.
After they had placed their orders, Donovan said, “Okay, Jeff. If Dominex is picking up the tab, they must want something."
“Very astute," Jeff responded. “I won’t keep you in suspense. We just need a place for our remaining volunteers to check in. And to be honest, there aren’t a whole lot of them left. Most of them have technically finished their six weeks of abstinence."
“Technically?" Sally repeated.
“Well, half of them never made it to the end of the study,” Jeff explained. “The rest completed the cycle with us.”
“Doesn’t sound that complicated," Donovan interjected hopefully.
“It’s not. We will need blood pressures and drug screens. You can bag up the urine samples and we’ll continue to have a courier come by every two days.”
“I hate to question a perfect plan," Sally interjected, “but why make the change now, so close to the completion of the study?"
“Ah, that’s the million dollar question. We have some very interested employees who, shall I say, are not interested in letting well enough alone."
Both Sally and Donovan nodded their understanding.
“We have just under six weeks left," Jeff concluded. “We’re almost home and we don’t want any last minute complications.”
“Well, I’m okay with it," Donovan said, looking at Sally for any objections.
“I don’t see a problem with it," Sally conceded.
“Great," Jeff said. “I love it when a plan comes together."
A few minutes later, the food arrived. “Thank God," Sally said under her breath.
“She usually can’t eat until dinner time," Donovan explained.
“That is one joy I don’t feel deprived of missing," Jeff said sympathetically. The group ate in silence. Donovan was quietly running accounting figures in his head. Jeff was still navigating disaster control, and Sally was thinking about bridesmaid dresses and names for the baby.
Chapter 18
Carol was standing in the kitchen trying to establish the fastest way to throw a meal together. When she arrived at home, Josh had still been out with his crew. She was slightly relieved. She didn’t know exactly how he would react to her decision to quit her job at the mental health center.
She was standing on a stool, trying to reach the green beans on the top shelf of her pantry when he came in. Carol turned around and said, “You brought pizza!"
“I guess the large box gave it away."
“You read my mind," Carol said, getting down from the stool. “I really didn’t feel like cooking."
Sitting in the living room, they ate pizza and watched a variety of television. Josh was the typical male: a remote control madman. Carol marveled at how he could flip through each channel and assess its content in less than a millisecond. “Do you also dream in millisecond fragments?" Carol said, teasingly. “Just about to fall off a cliff," she elaborated, “and then click, you’re walking down the street. But wait," she continued, “another click, and you are in a dog food commercial.”
“No," Josh responded. “I see multiple screens."
Carol just shook her head. She knew better than to actually get interested in anything when she was watching TV with him. And besides, she wasn’t real
ly watching the TV anyway. She was waiting for the right moment to tell her husband that she had quit her job. The anxiety was unfounded. Josh had wanted her to quit the insanity of her job all along. It was Carol’s own personal guilt and sense of failure she was dealing with.
“Check this out," Josh said, interrupting her thoughts.
Carol looked at the screen, and saw the words “live news update.” There was a female reporter holding a microphone.
“I’m standing here in front of One Peachtree Plaza, where just moments ago, a young man fired several shots at employees who were leaving the building. He then reportedly turned the gun on himself. We’re not sure if the shots were intentionally aimed at any one individual. The gunman was either attempting to make a statement or was a very poor marksman. No one was injured.”
The picture on the screen split, and a man at the studio began talking to the reporter. “Sharon, do we have any information about the attacker?"
“The gunman is down, Tom. We are not sure of his condition. Police have forced everyone away from the building and paramedics are at the scene.”
“Do we know the reason for the attack?" the newsman inquired.
“Tom, we‘re waiting for an official statement from the police. We have been informed that this building is owned and occupied by Dominex Pharmaceuticals. Allegedly, the gunman was shouting at the building, just prior to the attack; however, there has been no confirmation of what was said.”
“Thank you, Sharon."
The picture centered on the news studio, eliminating the woman reporter. “Eleven Alive News will remain at the scene and we will bring you updates as they happen. This is Tom Deal, bringing the important news to your front door." The picture changed to America’s Funniest Video’s, already in progress. Carol just stared at the TV with her mouth open. She had a horrible premonition.
“Carol, are you okay?" Josh said.
“Brian," Carol moaned. “I just have this terrible feeling that the attacker was Brian."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Charles Roman was lounging by his pool watching the sun set when his wife came out to alert him. “You better get in here," she announced flatly.
“Why?" Charles said holding one hand up to block the last few rays of the sun.