A Necessary Risk. Kathleen Long
WAITED, SITTING in a strategically selected booth at the Bordentown Diner.
Back to wall. Face to diner entrance.
He glanced at his watch.
McLaughlin was already nine minutes late. Not a good sign.
If the guy had chickened out, their chances of uncovering the trade-secret trial results and any altered HC0815 data would fall onto Jessica’s shoulders. Somehow Zach couldn’t picture her hacking into the New Horizon system.
She might be scared right now. She might be intrigued. But was she dedicated enough to the cause to risk her job? Risk the integrity of the company she worked for?
Beyond that, her family had been threatened. There was no telling at what point the woman might bail on the entire investigation.
Zach slid a sideways glance toward the counter across the room from where he sat. Jessica sat with her profile to him, long blond hair swept into a ponytail and tucked into a ball cap.
Even in blue jeans and a faded sweatshirt, she was a beauty. No doubt about it. Yet the severe set of her slender jaw and the intensity of her gaze told anyone who cared to notice that she kept herself protected and closed off.
Zach supposed most scientific types might be the same way, focused solely on their work, but he suspected Jessica Parker’s demons went a bit deeper than a desire to crunch data.
No matter. He wasn’t here to contemplate the woman’s emotional state. He was only here to use her for whatever information she might be able to access regarding HC0815 and the role it had played in Jim’s death.
If Zach could expose New Horizon and Whitman Pharma, he would. He’d make sure no other healthy candidate developed a sudden urge to take a swan dive off a balcony or rooftop.
Jessica looked at him over her shoulder, and he frowned, gesturing with his eyes for her to turn around and concentrate on the coffee cup in front of her, not on him.
The worried glint in her eye was a sharp reminder of reality. She might have her emotional walls soundly in place, yet someone had followed her, threatened her, threatened her family.
Why? Simply because she’d asked questions of Van Cleef? But who? Van Cleef himself? Hardly. The man didn’t look capable of harming a fly. Someone else on the inside? Perhaps whoever had instructed McLaughlin to tamper with trial data and outcomes?
Or had Whitman Pharma stepped in to make sure no one and nothing jeopardized the billions of dollars they stood to earn once HC0815 gained FDA approval and hit the market?
A disheveled man with jet-black hair stepped through the diner entrance, cutting off Zach’s thoughts. Tall and lean, he looked to be no more than thirty years old. And he looked nervous as hell.
McLaughlin, Zach thought. Had to be McLaughlin.
The young man moved slowly through the diner, bypassing the hostess as he did so. He held nothing in his hands. No papers. No folders. No disks.
Damn.
Zach had hoped today’s meeting would provide concrete evidence—physical proof. Unless he had a secret compartment in the battered T-shirt and jeans he wore, McLaughlin had decided otherwise.
He moved toward where Zach sat, and Zach nodded.
McLaughlin stopped next to the table.
“Great day for the race,” Zach said, repeating the line they’d agreed upon.
McLaughlin dropped into the opposite side of the booth and wiped at his upper lip.
If the guy was this nervous due to a simple meeting, he’d never hold up under intense pressure or under questioning.
Zach shook off the thought, signaling to the waitress. Based on the sharp angles of McLaughlin’s face, there might be one way to get him to relax and to earn his trust.
Food.
ZACH WAITED UNTIL McLaughlin had inhaled the plate of eggs and bacon before he launched into his questions on HC0815.
At first mention of the clinical trial, McLaughlin stiffened, yet his bloodshot eyes brightened.
“You know, I loved that job,” he said, features tensing.
“Then why’d you leave?” Zach prodded.
McLaughlin smiled ruefully. “I think you already know that answer or you wouldn’t have had Jess make contact with me.”
“Jess contacted you on her own,” Zach replied.
“Then why isn’t she sitting with us?” McLaughlin asked.
Zach answered only with a frown.
McLaughlin jerked a thumb toward the counter. “She’s pretty hard to miss. I spotted her before I spotted you.”
Damn.
If McLaughlin had spotted her that easily, chances were anyone who might be watching had done the same. They’d have to be far more careful from here on out.
Though, if McLaughlin could provide cold, hard evidence, Zach’s probe might be over much sooner than anticipated.
“She’s already had threats. It’s better this way.”
The genuine surprise that registered on McLaughlin’s face let Zach mentally check the man off the list of possible suspects in Jessica’s break-in and threat.
McLaughlin glanced at the clock on the wall. “Let’s get to it, shall we?”
Zach gave a tight nod.
“There was an earlier trial for a pancreatic cancer indication for HC0815. Whitman pulled the drug from the approval process, but not until after two trial participants died.”
Adrenaline zinged to life in Zach’s veins. So the Little Brother watchdog group’s information had been correct. “Suicide?”
McLaughlin nodded. “With no prior history of mental illness.”
Anger tapped at the base of Zach’s skull. “How can Whitman get away with keeping two deaths quiet?”
“Trade-secret rule.” McLaughlin’s lips thinned. “The big pharmaceutical boys know how to protect themselves.”
“What about the current trial?” Zach asked.
McLaughlin took a sip of his coffee and nodded. “There’s already been trouble.” He tensed. “The powers that be instructed me to eliminate the evidence or else.”
“Do you have proof?”
“Of who was behind the order?” McLaughlin shook his head. “Whoever it was paid me handsomely and anonymously—in cash. I’m not proud of what I did.”
“What about the case report forms?”
McLaughlin nodded. “They’re still in the system, I just protected the access.” He narrowed his gaze. “You act like you already knew about the latest adverse reactions.”
Zach nodded his head, saying nothing.
McLaughlin’s narrow gaze widened. “Thomas. Holy…I should have made the connection. How?”
“Brother,” Zach replied in response to McLaughlin’s verbal shorthand.
McLaughlin blinked. “I’m sorry, man. So sorry.”
Zach leaned forward across the narrow table. “So you understand why proof is so important to me.”
The other man nodded. “For a while there I thought you might be a reporter yanking Jess’s chain, but now I get it. You’re out for revenge.” He smiled as if pleased.
If thinking Zach wanted revenge made the man talk, so be it. Zach could play whatever part the investigation required him to play.
McLaughlin