Damage Control by Timothy Gilbert - HTML preview

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Peter Hansen

“What the hell is going on over at Distal?” Martin hollered.

We stepped out onto my front porch. This was the first time Martin had been to my

home, at least the first that I was aware of, and he clearly was rattled.

“Look, calm down. This trial is way too important to Distal, they're not going to shut it

down.”

I was mainly worried about the stock price reaction on Monday to the news about Jim

Newel's highly precarious medical state. The board needed to act quickly to stabilize the ship,

and if it did that, then the stock would recover from any initial weakness in early Monday trading.

Every stock analyst on the street was awaiting the results from the Zyptorin trial, so the health of the CEO had no direct bearing on the trial results. The irony here was that Jim Newel could

possibly have benefited from Zyptorin and its artery plaque reduction ability.

“Well, what do I tell Julio?” Martin asked.

“Tell him nothing changes, because that is the truth. Keep the heat on.”

“Oh, that they're doing! They have this doctor scared out of his gord!” Martin exclaimed.

The wind was starting to pick up and I wanted to get back inside. “Alright, let's not talk

for a while unless it's urgent, okay?”

Martin nodded and walked back to his black sedan. He knew better than to rattle Julio. It

was in nobody's interest to have the Violas make a rash, emotional decision. I needed to keep this

man happy with his new drug trial plan, happy with my firm.

Timothy Gilbert

Damage Control

201

Monday, November 11th

12:25am

Ashley Wells ran in her flip flops and naked under her robe back to the heated hot tub,

taking care not to slip on the tile that was wet from the five minute midnight rain shower that just passed through.

Twice a week, Ashley eagerly flaunted her palatial estate in South Hampton, New York,

having hosted nearly 100 music industry people earlier that evening. Ashley's assistant, Judy,

confirmed twenty minutes earlier that everyone was out of the home and exiting the property.

The hot tub was one of seven on the estate and rested on the third floor balcony off the

master bedroom.

“Okay, stud, thanks for the potty break,” Ashley giggled. “Hope the chlorine level is

fine.”

Ashley grabbed her vodka drink from the ledge, lifted her left leg, and nudged Brad in the

back of the head.

“Hey sweety, cat got your tongue?”

Brad fell forward face first into the water, leading Ashley to send into the night a screech

that would spin her music producer's head around. Ashley reached over the edge of the tub to

save Brad before noticing the blender in the tub, pouring strawberry daiquiri into the water. The

blender was sparking and Ashley knew better than to reach into the electrified water.

“Help!” she yelled from the balcony.

Ashley took her towel and grabbed Brad's head to pull him back up into a sitting

position. Lifting her fiancé up by the arm pits, she pulled him out of the tub. Ashley was in the

middle of mouth to mouth when Linda hurried into the room.

“What happened?” Linda asked Ashley, ready to dial 9-1-1.

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Damage Control

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Ashley looked up from Brad and shouted tear streamed instructions to call for an

ambulance.

“He electrocuted himself with the blender!” Ashley yelled.

*****

Eduardo could hear Ms. Wells shouting for help while descending down the home on his

removable cable. He was almost to the first floor balcony when Ashley discovered Mr. Dellan

dead in the tub. He made sure not to make any noise.

It was supposed to look like an accident and things could not have worked out any better

for Eduardo, who camped out in the house for 36 hours prior to the killing so as to study the

couple. When Julio first called Eduardo on Friday night, he wanted him to kill Mr. Dellan in the

most horrible way possible, but, hours later, Julio had changed his mind. Now, it had to look like

an accident, and that made the task so much more difficult.

Pushing a target down the stairs can break their neck though it's not full proof by any

stretch; same with heavy furniture like an armoire falling on the victim. Electrocution is the most

common way because it is the most reliable, yet the target obviously needs to be in water.

Eduardo knew they used the hot tub nearly every night, but he didn't want to kill Ms. Wells so he

needed to have Mr. Dellan alone in the water.

Ms. Wells was in the tub for part of Saturday night, yet never left her fiancé alone.

Eduardo hid just below the third balcony ledge, in the darkest part that faced some woods. His

back was stiff the next morning, however, it was the best spot to hide by far. On Sunday night, an

opportunity opened up when Ms. Wells went to the bathroom for a few minutes. Eduardo put his

plan into work. Scaling the side of the balcony, he scared the crap out of Mr. Dellan, who tried to

stand up, but the turned-on blender was quickly in the water and Mr. Dellan didn't stand a

chance.

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Damage Control

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Eduardo hooked up his removable cable and waited to make sure the target was dead.

When that became clear, the hit man started his descent.

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Damage Control

204

Monday, November 11th

9:05pm