A Necessary Risk. Kathleen Long

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СКАЧАТЬ of the current Whitman clinical trial, not worry about the past. Have there been any alarming side effects to date?”

      “None documented.” Jess shook her head, debating whether or not to tell Van Cleef the rest of the conversation.

      She drew in a deep breath, hesitating.

      “If that’s all, Jessica, I really do need to get back to work. The media showcase set me back hours, as usual.”

      “The detective claims there’s been a suicide in the current trial.”

      Van Cleef’s white brows snapped together. “That’s preposterous.”

      “His younger brother,” Jessica continued. “A supposedly healthy candidate. He jumped from his dormitory balcony after allegedly taking HC0815.”

      “I’m assuming you’ve already checked the records? The case report forms?”

      Jess nodded. “No record of a Jim Thomas in the applications. No record of a suicide in the results.”

      “There you have it.” Van Cleef nodded, then refocused on his work, dismissing her with this move. “Your detective is mistaken. End of story.”

      But as Jessica headed back toward her work area, she couldn’t shake the memory of Detective Thomas’s determination. His was the face of a man who knew what he was talking about—or at least was fully convinced he was telling the truth.

      In addition, she couldn’t remember ever being dismissed so abruptly by Van Cleef. Was he hiding something? Was he trying to brush off her questions?

      She hated to think so, hated that the idea had crossed her mind, but now that it had, she had to see her questions through. It was how she was wired.

      On the off chance there might be information that had been purged from the records and databases, she had to locate the one person who might have had access to, and knowledge of, additional information.

      Scott McLaughlin. He might have left New Horizon, but the guy had a mind like a steel trap. If he’d ever seen data from the previous trial or reviewed Jim Thomas’s application for the current trial, he’d remember.

      Now all Jess had to do was convince the man to talk.

      ZACH LEANED OVER HIS kitchen table and scrubbed a hand across his face. Disgust and anger fought for position in his gut as he reread the local newspaper article covering Jim’s death.

      His brother, never one to seek the spotlight, would have hated the attention. Even more importantly, he would have hated the implication he’d committed suicide because he’d grown weak mentally.

      Weak.

      Not the Jim Zach had known all his life.

      Zach sank into a battered kitchen chair and spread the pieces of the puzzle across the table. The article. The notes from the investigation. The list of friends who had detailed Jim’s downward spiral.

      He traced a finger across each of the investigational notes, all in his handwriting, all recreated from memory after one quick glimpse of the department files.

      He stopped his hand when his fingertips brushed against a short stack of paper. Hard copies of the e-mails from Jim detailing the start of the semester and his work with New Horizon.

      Zach’s heart grew heavy in his chest.

      He had to admit his brother’s tone had changed in the days before his death. Zach should have realized something was wrong, should have done something. Anything.

      The familiar guilt edged through his system. He did nothing to shove the sensation away. Hell, he deserved to feel guilty. He’d failed the younger brother who had looked up to him as he would a parent.

      Zach had let Jim down.

      It was that simple.

      He drew in a deep breath then blew it out slowly, bolstering his determination. He might have let Jim down in life, but he wasn’t about to let him down in death.

      He’d start at the beginning and work this case harder than he’d ever worked another case. This time it was his brother’s memory he’d fight to vindicate.

      Zach pulled a writing tablet from the far side of the table and listed the evidence he’d gathered so far.

      Testimony from friends.

      E-mails from Jim.

      Prior Whitman Pharma clinical trial information from consumer watchdog group.

      He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. There wasn’t much to go on, and the first item on the list pointed to Jim’s declining mental state.

      As Zach saw it, he needed concrete proof of two things—Jim’s involvement in the HC0815 trial and data from the previous Whitman Pharma drug study.

      Jim had reported to the hospital affiliated with the college for his daily dose of HC0815, so there had been nothing in his personal effects to link him to the drug trial. And the only thing the Little Brother watchdog group had been able to provide regarding the earlier Whitman drug study was hearsay.

      Zach needed far more in order to prove New Horizon and Whitman Pharma’s guilt and take them down.

      He swept all of the papers to one side, frustration growing inside him as he ran the conversation with Jessica Parker through his head for what had to be the hundredth time since that afternoon.

      Jessica Parker.

      The key to unlocking the evidence Zach needed. The key to getting inside New Horizon.

      While he’d like to think it possible to investigate without the woman, the truth was he needed her cooperation.

      As Zach shoved the newspaper article and the investigative notes back into the manila envelope where he kept them, he flashed once more on Parker and her defense of New Horizon.

      Earning the woman’s trust wasn’t going to be easy, but it was a necessity.

      Now, all he had to do was figure out a way how.

      JESS FINGERED THE business card in her jacket pocket as she walked from her car to her condo, revisiting the day’s events in her head.

      She’d stayed at New Horizon even later than she normally did, and the heaviness of the impending night pressed against the fading sun. The late hour had also forced her to park farther away than she liked.

      She’d left a message for Scott McLaughlin at his home number but hadn’t heard back from him. She’d decided against calling Detective Thomas. At least for now.

      Once Scott confirmed what Van Cleef had said, Jess would break it to Thomas that he was operating under false pretense and his brother’s mental illness had been just that—and not the by-product of the clinical trial.

      She turned the corner toward her street, passing the alley that ran behind the neighborhood grocery market. The small hairs at the base of her neck pricked to attention, and she mentally СКАЧАТЬ