“So, what do you make of this drug trial you're on?” Rod Sullivan asked me.
Rod and his wife Tammy were hosting a dinner party for two other couples: Walt and
Marian Reynolds and Michael and Ruth Shepherd. Rod was one of the Urologists in my building
and we had lunch together about twice a month. Many of my patients were also being treated by
Rod's practice.
I would have loved to warn Rod right then and there about the chaos that I was about to
bring onto our medical building with my crime scene. His practice was going to take a hit with
me being gone, and he would be smart to find another internal medicine doctor to move into my
space. Except, I couldn't think of anybody.
“Well we'll see if Zyptorin is all that it's cracked up to be,” I said. “I sure hope it is – it
would help people a lot.”
Walt walked up to us. “Are you guys talking shop again?”
Mr. Reynolds was a home builder in Northern and Central New Jersey. He built the
house we all were standing in that night.
“Well, let's talk your shop talk, Walt.” Rod replied.
I couldn't believe I was here tonight because what happened this afternoon was huge. At
least for this meeting with Oleg, I had a few seconds to gather my thoughts before seeing him. I
knew I now had forced the Czechs to watch me from the parking lot – how was I supposed to
know they weren't already doing so?
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For sure, Oleg was going to ask me about this other guy threatening me, so I figured I
would beat him to it. If I had waited for Oleg to bring it up, it might have sounded like I was
making up the story of me and this guy in the garage two nights ago. Instead, Oleg really took my
story to heart. He looked way troubled while I was telling him about my encounter in the garage.
Troubled, as in, his eyes got a little bigger and his cheeks tightened.
“You know, Walt, there is a crack in the powder room ceiling – I'm kidding!” Rod
slammed Walt in the back. Walt didn't seem to find this so funny.
I didn't know the Shepherds, as they moved next door to Rod a month ago from
California. Their house was castle-normous, so Michael must have done something lucrative for a
job. He looked to be a few years younger me, maybe three not more than five. I didn't like going
to dinner parties with people that I'd never met. It never failed – I always got put next to them
during dinner.
The ladies were in the kitchen, and we were standing next to Rod's bar in his family
room off the kitchen. Last month, Rod had a kegerator installed.
Oleg and I probably wouldn't run into each other again before I disappeared, which,
according to my latest plan, was calling for me to disappear the next Thursday evening. Melanie
had to leave a little before 5pm that day and Mary was leaving at 5pm sharp since we didn't have
patients scheduled after 4:45. While Melanie never stayed late, Mary worked well past 5pm and
usually walked out with me at 5:45, except for times when she had to leave early. This happened
about three times a month. Both Mary and Melanie parked in the garage so Oleg probably
wouldn't notice them leaving. I planned to keep to this 5:45 schedule for the first three days of
that next week. That way, the Czechs wouldn't think anything of it when they saw that I was still
inside the building at 5:30pm on Thursday.
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“So, Walt, is that you're project out in Mendham?” I asked. I knew that it was; Walt
loved to talk about his new home projects, though.
“You are right sir! The first three homes are going up for sale in two months,” Walt
replied. “We should have nearly fifteen homes in that area when we are done.”
Michael Shepherd rubbed his chin. “What's the price range of the homes?”
I knew that Walt didn't deal with the highest priced homes and that he seemed pretty
conservative by most home builder standards.
“$875,000 to $1.1 million and all of the lots are sold,” Walt responded. “It's been a
decent year given the economy and all of that. Last week, I sold the last lot to a couple that used
to work for Enron. They told me that they sold out a year before Enron imploded.”
“Lucky for them,” Michael said.
I had a plan to deal with Oleg in the parking lot next Thursday night, and I was pretty
sure all of my ducks were in a row for my travel plans plus the things I would need at the New
Mexico resort. William knew to pick me up on Marsh Street at 5:40pm - I had already bought the
bus ticket in cash. I planned on carrying $1,000 in cash on me for the trip just in case I ran into a pinch.
“What type of physician are you Nick?” Michael Shepherd asked me.
“I'm an internal medicine doc,” I replied with a smile.
“And a well loved one at that,” Rod inserted. “All of my referrals from his office rave
about Dr. Nick.”
I had totally forgotten about tonight until I got home and Susan told me to get freshened
up. What I really wanted to do was to sit in my home office…think more about what Oleg had
said to me three hours earlier. It was hard to do that while trying to keep up with a social
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conversation at a dinner party. It was too bad, because I usually enjoyed these kind of events,
minus the „not knowing some of the people' part.
Susan was smiling away in the kitchen, which was good to see since her afternoon was a
despairing one. Susan received a new tint for her hair this morning, only to hear negative
comments from Joan. I didn't know why she stopped by Joan's house after the hair cut – maybe
she was looking for an ounce of approval after all these years – and I could tell that she spent
much of the afternoon crying over the comments. I hated when Joan pulled that crap. It was
always a mystery to me how mothers can be so cruel to their daughters while treating their sons
as saints.
Susan was having a great week until this moment with her mother, with Hallmark calling
on Monday wanting to discuss a consulting job. When Hunter's Mill was bought out by
Hallmark, Susan lasted less than two months before leaving with the buy-out. Her corporate boss
for those two months, Meg Sonoma, was in Kansas City and was now in charge of all marketing
for Hallmark. She wanted Susan to help out with brand strategy or something like that. Susan
wouldn't have to travel and the pay they talked about looked solid, so my wife was ecstatic to say
the least.
Susan had been with Hunter's Mill for 24 years before Hallmark bought the company in
2001. After this, Hallmark was looking to consolidate corporate positions and Susan was offered
a buyout package equal to 18 months of salary. Susan saw the writing on the wall. She realized
that if she didn't take the offer, she wouldn't last another year with Hallmark running the show.
After a few weeks of thinking things over, Susan and I agreed that she would take the buyout
package.
“I guess I didn't realize how much I wanted to get back into the game,” Susan told me
that night. “Ever since you got on to the Zyptorin committee, I wanted some of that success for
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me. For all of the doors that now seem to be opening for your career, those same doors seemed
shut for me.”
Susan was surprised that Meg wanted her help because Meg didn't want anything to do
with her when the Hunter's Mill deal closed. Susan wasn't included in important meetings and
her ideas for how Hallmark could help Hunter's Mill were dismissed by Meg without
explanation. Meg did call Susan the day before Susan was to leave with the buyout to wish her
well. Still, Susan left the company thinking her days with Meg Sonoma were over for good.
All I could tell my wife was to go for it, she deserved it. But I really wanted to tell her
that now was probably not the best time to go back to work given that I was going to do my best,
in less than a week, to make her believe that I was dead.
“Maybe we can now share your office,” Susan said with a smile and a soft punch to the
stomach.
I didn't respond to that one.
For the past year, Susan had seemed content with a simpler life of upping the care of
Stanley and helping out at the St. John center. Our marriage was in the best shape in years. I was
afraid this damn Zyptorin trial was the gift that kept on giving and had gotten Susan to be envious
of my success. The irony here was killing me.
Maybe I was just being too cynically stupid, though. Susan was a very smart and
effective business woman and her talents certainly were not being used to the fullest level since
leaving Hallmark.
Tom was spending the evening at home - Charlie would surely make his way over. They
were great kids.
“Hey Nick, what is Norman Watson like?” Rod asked. “I hear he's running your Zyptorin
committee.”
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I had no idea how Rod found that out since Urologists don't spend much time talking
with Cardiologists, even the ones that share a building like they did at my work. He probably read
it in one of the medical periodicals.
“He's old, that's for sure,” I replied. “But he's a good leader that is determined to give
Balentor a fair shake.”
I liked Norm, but I was not going to miss this damn trial. I'd been to three meetings and
the last two had been pure hell; The games Bob Linder played – like telling Oleg he had left the
committee – probably got him killed, so I was stuck going to these meetings. Stuck doing a lot of
things I didn't want to do.
I really didn't believe anybody on the committee was behind this Czech problem of mine
because it didn't make any sense for one of them to force me to reveal trial information that
would be known by all committee members. They could just supply Fred with the trial result and
press release date themselves. What would they need me for?
“Boys, we have plenty of appetizers in here!” Tammy Sullivan shouted over to us.
Tammy made these Swedish meat balls with a sweet barbecue sauce – I could eat the
whole tray. By keeping the appetizers in the kitchen, Tammy hoped to draw the men into the
same room as the women, and it was pretty effective, though we all knew what she was doing.
Tammy and Rod usually threw a dinner party twice a year.
“Right, Tom might be able to do some consulting for Distal Pharmaceutical,” Susan was
telling Tammy as we walked into the kitchen.
I didn't have the foggiest clue where she got idea, but that was way off base. I thought
about correcting Susan except that would have been a bad idea since getting her pissed at me
before dinner would certainly lead to a feud later. I never told her about David's arrangement
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with Distal. Maybe she heard something at our holiday party a few weeks ago. I doubted heavily
that any pharmaceutical company had a consulting deal with an Internal Medicine physician.
“Well, we'll see…this whole thing could be one and done for me,” I told the group.
“Michael, Ruth is telling us about your golf career,” Susan said loudly. She poured some
more wine in her glass. I had every reason to get ripped tonight but someone needed to drive
home. This was nothing new for us. Susan could drink me under table any time of day.
He turned beat red and started to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, my bad back forced me
off the tour two years ago.”
As I was hearing this, I was wondering what tour he was talking about. But I didn't want
to sound like an idiot, so I would have to wait to see if that part of the information came up some
other way.
“Yeah, it took me a few weeks to figure out just who my new neighbor was,” Rod told
everybody. “You won the Phoenix Open nine years ago and had many top five finishes.”
Michael couldn't have looked any more uncomfortable and took a long sip from his beer
bottle. I felt bad for the guy. It sounded like he was on the PGA tour but, honest, I had never
heard of Michael Shepherd. I followed golf a little, but not enough to know more than twenty or
thirty players each year. I only watched the majors on television.
Ruth stepped in. “That's enough - Michael has always hated the attention that being a
super golfer brought him.”
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Friday, January 10th
11:20pm