Silent Epidemic by Jill Province - HTML preview

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Chapter 20

 

Charles sat at his desk and stared out the window.  Things had gotten totally out of hand ever since they had tried to get Suprame on the market.  This study had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that the medication could not be taken longer than a few weeks without becoming seriously addictive.  They could have agreed to put specific warnings and prescription parameters on the labels, but that would substantially cut into future profit.

It had been predicted that once Suprame was available, it would be the sedative of choice because of the price comparison to the name brands.  Estimated revenues were staggering.  But this estimate was based on current prescribing practices.  If doctors and patients were warned about guaranteed addiction, those numbers would drop considerably.

Now he had a study that proved how dangerous sedatives were and they were continuing to navigate its successful completion to the FDA.  That did not bother Charles as much as the idea that they could consider permanently putting Sheila away.  She was harmless.  The only hidden agenda she had ever had was to climb her way to the top, using any means to get there.  He had seen it a thousand times before and he had no problem complying with that desire.  She had been such a bright spot in his life.  He had even entertained thoughts of resuming their relationship once this study was over.  He had not liked hearing that she was involved with someone else.

Now, Jerry Owens was another matter.  Not only did he have no recollection of ever meeting the man, but also he was sure that, under the circumstances, he probably wouldn’t like him.  If he was out of the picture, that might solve two problems.  Sheila would get the message and Jerry would be history. 

We will make an example of Jerry Owens, the CEO decided.  A smile came to his face as he envisioned a distraught Sheila, in need of comfort.  He would be happy to console her.  The details of the plan were something for someone else to work out.  He had done the real work: he had made the decision.  Charles got up and went down the hall to find Sam. 

It was close to the end of the workday.  Sam was seated at his desk, patiently listening to his secretary deliver the reader’s digest version of “phone war.”  “Sam, they have all but threatened me personally.  You have to figure out a different way of dealing with these people.  They want to speak to someone connected with this study, not a secretary.  These people are sick and upset, and I can’t contain this mess any longer."

“Okay, Margie," he said.  “We will do something.  Give me until the end of the week to come up with a different plan." 

“Thanks," she said and left the room.

 Sam could hear her just outside the door.  “Oh, Mr. Roman, go right on in." 

“Nice girl," Charles said, as he closed the door behind him. 

“Over-worked girl.  I think she is due for a promotion."

“Great," Charles said.  “You can give her Jerry Owens’s job."  

Sam did not like the direction this conversation was taking already.

“What does that mean?" he asked tentatively. 

“I have decided that we should make an example of Jerry Owens."  

“And how did we come to that interesting conclusion?" Sam interjected.   

“He has had his nose too far into our business, and he’s expendable.  Simple as that."  

“And how is that going to resolve the problem we are having with Sheila?" Sam asked.  

Charles was getting tired of all the paranoia surrounding Sheila and was here to put an end to it once and for all. 

“What has she done to make us all so worried about her" Charles demanded. “besides ask a lot of questions?  She was practically put in charge of organizing this study, and then got a little curious when you added components to it without telling her anything.  Don’t you think that would raise a question or two?" 

“Not the smoothest plan in the world," Sam conceded. 

“No, it wasn’t.  And since we sent her off to New Jersey, she has stayed completely out of the picture.  Now this Owens guy picks up where she leaves off.  As far as I can see, he’s the current problem." 

Sam looked at the CEO and thought, I have never known anyone in my entire life more hormonally driven than Charles Roman.  He just shook his head and sighed.  “You don’t see any connection between the fact that Jerry Owens – an employee in her department I might add – did not begin having contact with the volunteers until her immediate departure?" 

“I thought the volunteer contacted us, and this Owens guy intercepted the call," Charles interjected.

“The volunteer named both of them as contacts when she called the newspaper," Sam said in exasperation.  “And now they go out to breakfast together?  Come on, man. Wake up.  They have been working together on this since she left for Newark."  

Charles hated to admit it, but Sam was right.  The truth had been staring him right in the face, and because he had wanted to continue his affair with her, he had been blind to the whole scenario.

“So, what do you think we should do?" Charles asked, defeated. 

“I say we watch them very carefully. The newsperson we hired to work at the AJC has been keeping pretty close tabs on them.”  

Charles nodded in agreement. 

“If they got the message from the little office cleaning we gave them and decide to stay the hell out of our way until this research project is over, then there will be no need to turn up the heat.  But… if we get even an inkling that they are continuing to sabotage us, they are gone.”

“What I don’t understand," Charles said, “is why would they do anything to hurt the company that employs them." 

“Who knows," Sam said. “But people do it all the time.  We just can’t afford for anything to go wrong with the Suprame market date.  We are too close and we will not tolerate any interference." 

“I agree," Charles added.  “Keep me informed of everything."

 Sam watched him leave.  He had no choice about Charles being informed of the plant at the AJC.  The CEO himself had been involved in the hire and the placement of that individual.  He had decided it would be better not to inform him of the phone taps.  Sam did not trust Charles’s current judgment.  If Sheila knew about the phone taps because a clumsy CEO had inadvertently warned her, they would have no way of knowing what was really going on.  He checked his watch. Her home phone had been taken care of while she was at work, and the office phone would be taken care of tonight.  Sam felt confident that he had covered all the bases.  He was tired.  Making a quick check around the office, he was satisfied that everything was locked and secure.  It was time to go home.   

Sheila sat waiting for Jerry to show up at the Wendy’s.  She checked her watch.  It was well after five-thirty.  Where the hell was he?  She was beginning to get worried when he finally came through the door at five minutes to six.  

“Sorry I’m late," he said. 

“Where were you?" she demanded.  “I was getting worried." 

“Thanks," he said, smiling. 

“Jerry, this is serious.  I don’t think you realize who you are dealing with." 

“You mean the kind of people who would be putting phone taps on our office extensions?" 

“Why do I get the feeling that you are trying to tell me something?"  

“Maybe because the ’handyman’ didn’t know who I was, especially since I was busy working in another cubicle.” 

“What?" Sheila exclaimed. 

“Yeah, the building cleared out and I decided to hang around for just a little while.  Did you know that some really interesting things go on there after five o’clock?" 

“You saw them putting a wiretap on your phone?"  

“Not just mine," he responded. 

“Those guys are such crapheads," she said under her breath. 

“Yeah," Jerry agreed, “but so predictable." 

“How did you get to be so sharp?" she said suspiciously.  “You told me you didn’t even know how to lie when all this first started. 

“I’m a fast learner," he said. 

“Uh huh," she said moving closer to him, “and what else?" 

“I am also highly motivated," Jerry said putting his arm around her and kissing her thoroughly.  After a moment, he pulled back and said, “Any questions?" 

Sheila’s head was spinning.  She had never experienced a genuine kiss before.  When she finally found her voice she said, “No, I think you explained everything pretty well."

“Good," he said.  “Then let’s go home.”

The newsperson watched them leave the Wendy’s.  So, we’re escalating the friendship.  Maybe that will keep them busy and out of trouble.  

The reporter pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number.  “They appear to be heading home."  

“Everything is ready,” said a voice on the other end.  

“Good work," the reporter said and pressed a button to end the call.

 Sheila and Jerry were coming out of the elevator, so engrossed in conversation that they did not notice the fact that Sheila’s front door was unlocked until they were practically inside her apartment.  

“My God," Sheila exclaimed, looking around the ruins of a frantic search.  It had received the same treatment as her office.  There didn’t appear to be one surface or drawer that hadn’t been completely overturned.  “Can’t they look for files without turning everything upside down?" she whined. 

“This is turning into a pretty regular thing," Jerry said.  “I guess I can assume that my apartment looks just like this." 

“The only thing left for them to do to us is cavity searches," Sheila said in disgust.  “And I’m hoping that they would take us to dinner first."  

“And dancing" Jerry added. 

Sheila picked up the sofa cushions off the floor and placed them back on the sofa.  She sat down and let out a long breath.  “I just don’t have the energy to clean this up.” 

“Maybe we should call Sam and invite him over to help," Jerry said sarcastically.  

Sheila picked up the phone to call security. 

“This is Sheila Montgomery in ten-fifteen.  Can you tell me if anyone was given access to my apartment today? Really?" she said, after hearing an explanation. “No, no problem, thanks." 

“What did he say?" 

“He said that the only one that had access today was a furniture deliveryman and his assistant." 

“So, where’s the new furniture?" Jerry inquired. 

“Must have vaporized between the lobby and the tenth floor," she concluded.  “Oh, and another thing I found interesting during my phone conversation.  Is my phone supposed to click every five seconds?" 

“It is if it’s tapped," Jerry said, reaching for the receiver.  He unscrewed the mouthpiece and held it up for her to see.  “This little clip right here," he said, pointing to the inside of the receiver. “It probably was not there this morning."

“How stupid do they think we are?" Sheila said, getting up to check the rest of the apartment.  Jerry followed her from room to room.  When she was satisfied that nothing was missing, she turned to look at him. 

“I don’t think it is their assessment of our intelligence that is in question.  I think the problem is the size of their egos,” he speculated.  “You know," he continued, “we can actually use this to our advantage."  

Sheila looked at him for a moment, trying to make sense of what he had just said.  Slowly a smile came to her face. 

“You are a fast learner.  First, I have to clean this up.  I won’t be able to sleep until everything is back where it should be." 

“Well, pace yourself," Jerry warned.  “After this, I’m guessing we will have one more apartment to deal with."  

Sheila groaned. 

“Not if you don’t know about it until tomorrow." 

“That sounds like a proposition," Jerry said. 

“It is."

Jason Sample was reaching a dead-end in his investigation.  Everything had checked out at the doctor’s office.  The police had found nothing suspicious and had already closed the file.  Terry Sanders was determined to have been a distraught man who would have most likely ended up committing suicide, whether or not he had chosen to do it in front of a drug company’s building.  Jason had argued with the detective that was in charge of the case.  He insisted that there had been a lot of problems associated with the study those people were doing and a lot of nighttime activity following the shooting.  The detective told him that there was no tangible evidence to justify continuing the investigation.  If Mr. Sample wished to provide them with some, they would be glad to consider re-opening the case.

Damn.  Terry Sanders was not just a suicidal person with a grudge towards Dominex.  He wasn’t ready to let the story go.  He hadn’t heard from Carol Freeman and was unable to proceed any further without her input.  Jason dialed Brian’s number and waited. 

“Hello," a woman answered. 

“Brian, please."  

“This is his wife. Can I help you?"  

Jason filled her in on the reason for his call. 

“So, I really need to get in touch with him," Jason concluded. 

“Hold on," she said flatly.

Jason waited for several minutes before Brian came to the phone.  “I just got the third degree," the reporter said. 

“Yeah, and I got the fourth and fifth degree before I could pick up the phone."  

“I don’t think I want to know," Jason speculated. 

“I can assure you that you don’t." 

“Listen," Jason began, “I haven’t heard back from Carol yet, and we really need that contact information." 

“That’s strange," Brian said.  “She’s usually very reliable." 

“Maybe she called and it got lost in the shuffle around here," Jason explained. 

“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you contacted her," Brian said.  “I’ll give you her number at work, and if you miss her there, I also have the one at home.  Her husband won’t throw up a road block," Brian added.

Jason took down the information.  “Thanks," the reporter said.  “I’ll let you know what I find out."  

Brian hung up the phone and went back in the bedroom to finish arguing with Pam.    

Jason checked his watch.  He didn’t know what hours an addiction counselor kept, so he dialed the office number first.  A recorded voice told him that the Mental Health Center was opened Monday through Friday, from 8:30 AM to 5:00 PM.  It also instructed him to call an 800 number if he had an emergency.  He didn’t think his assessment of an emergency would be the same as the afterhours staff’s at a mental health center. 

He pulled out his notebook again and dialed the home number Brian had given him.  “Hello," a female answered. 

“Carol?" He inquired. 

“Yes?" 

“This is Jason Sample.  We met you last weekend with Brian." 

“Yes," Carol confirmed.  “Were you able to get anywhere with the information I gave you?" 

“Well, to be honest, I never got the information." 

“That’s odd," Carol said.  “I called yesterday morning.  The person said you were out and took down the names of the contact people at Dominex.  They said they’d be sure to give you the message. 

“Someone said that I was out yesterday morning?  What time did you call?" 

“I guess it was around nine-thirty in the morning."

“Interesting," Jason said.  “I guess they forgot." 

“No problem," Carol said.  “The one I spoke to directly about Dr. Donovan was Jerry Owens.  I also mentioned that Sheila Montgomery might be another contact person, even though I only spoke to her in the beginning when I got signed up.  If you can hold on for a second, I’ll look for the numbers.” 

A few minutes later, Carol returned to the phone and provided the reporter with two numbers for Jerry Owens and a work number for Sheila Montgomery.  The reporter thanked her and hung up the phone.  This is very interesting, he thought, getting up to find Sandra.  He finally found her leaning up against the counter in the break room, with a steaming cup in her hand.  

“I’m hoping this blood transfusion will revive me," she said, when Jason waved his hands in front of her face. 

“Another long one last night," he agreed. 

“I don’t know how you do it.  You were there, too, and you look fine." 

“You get used to it," he said.  “Listen, did you get any phone messages from Carol Freeman yesterday?"  

Sandra sipped on her coffee, hoping the caffeine would hit on the brain cells that stimulated memory. 

“Not that I can recall," she said finally.  “Why?" 

“Because I just got off the phone with her, and she said she left a message for me yesterday," Jason explained. 

“Well, people forget to forward messages all the time," Sandra said between yawns. 

“She was told I was out of the office yesterday morning at nine-thirty," he continued. 

“So?”   

“I was right here yesterday morning." 

“That is strange," she agreed.

“Considering the kind of story we’re working on, I find it very interesting." 

“Well, the individual in question can only be one person," Sandra said, coming back to life.  “We just got a new hire in the newsroom, and that individual was instantly enthralled with the Dominex story…” Both of them came to same conclusion at the same time.  “You think this person might be interested in more than learning the ropes?" Sandra asked.  

Jason just rolled his eyes at her. 

“Let’s just say that they are about to get the lesson of their lives," he concluded.  “We need to set up shop somewhere else.  We can’t work from my house.  It’s too far outside the city, and I have a two year old that is active enough to be twins." 

“My place is only a few miles from here," Sandra offered, “and it’s empty." 

“Okay that’s perfect," he concluded.  “We can camp out there in the morning.  Right now we need to try to locate Jerry Owens or Sheila Montgomery.  I’ll use my cell phone so there won’t be any AJC phone records."

Jason tried both of the numbers he had for Jerry.  There was no answer and he did not leave any messages.  He tried the only number he had for Sheila and was not surprised when there was no answer there either.  He doubted that anyone was still at Dominex this late at night.  “Let’s see if she’s listed in the phone book," Jason ventured.  He found only two Sheila Montgomery’s.  One was a College Park listing and the other was in Midtown.  Jason dialed the Midtown number first. When a woman answered the phone, the reporter identified himself and confirmed her place of employment.  Sheila told him that she had no knowledge of any problems with the research study and that everything appeared to be in the last stages and ready for FDA approval.

Jason listened to the politically correct statement, but could not help but notice a slight edge to her voice.  When Sheila finished her short monologue, Jason thanked her for her time and told her that if she thought of anything else she could reach him on his cell phone and gave her the number.  He pushed the button to end the call and sat down staring at the cell phone.

“What are you doing?" Sandra laughed. 

“Waiting for her to call me back from a different phone."

Sheila wrote down a number and hung up.  Turning to Jerry she said, “We need to get to a pay phone."  

They headed down to the street and Sheila filled Jerry in on the conversation she had just had with the reporter from the AJC. 

“Are you sure you want to share information with a newspaper?" Jerry asked.  “I thought we were supposed to be incognito." 

“Not really," she said.  Jerry just looked at her waiting for an explanation.  “I’m more interested in finding out what they know.  And if they turn out to be trustworthy, I might feed them a few crumbs.  A little extra media play wouldn’t hurt our cause."  

They found a pay phone two blocks away and Sheila pulled out the paper with Jason’s number.  The call was answered immediately.

“Why do I get the feeling you were expecting my call?" Sheila began. 

“I’m a reporter," Jason explained.  “I get paid to know these things. Can I meet with you?" he continued.  “I have a lot of questions and I have a feeling you have a lot of answers." 

“I guess so," Sheila answered tentatively.  “Where do you want to meet?"  

“It’s hard to say whose activities are being monitored at this exact moment, but I think it would be best if I came to you," the reporter said. 

“Why?” Sheila asked suspiciously

“I have a hunch about something, and if I’m right, you and I are both being watched.  And don’t start looking around," Jason added. 

“How did you know…?" Sheila began. “Oh, that’s right," she concluded, “the reporter thing." 

“Give me your address," Jason said.  “I think I can dodge our spy better than you can.”  Sheila gave him the address. 

“I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.  Oh, I almost forgot," he added.  “Would you have any idea where I might find Jerry Owens?" 

“You’re the reporter," Sheila laughed.  “Just follow your nose." 

“Two for price of one," Jason stated.  “Good deal."

“Let’s temporarily part company," Jerry suggested.  “If someone is watching our every move, they won’t be able to follow both of us." 

“Good thinking," Sheila said.  “I’ll meet you back at my apartment in fifteen minutes.”  She kissed him goodnight and went back to her place, via the Publix for a few groceries.  Her apartment was stocked with very little in the way of food.  She ate one meal a day and that had usually been at some fast food place on her way home from work.  Now she had a guest.  She felt strange, yet peaceful with the arrangement. 

Jerry went on a ten-block marathon.  It was the first real exercise he had had in days and it felt good to work up a sweat.  If anyone had been following him, they would have had to be in pretty good shape to keep up.  Jerry had been in training for this little cat and mouse game whether he realized it at the time or not.  After clocking about two miles in less than twenty minutes, he ended up at the service entrance of Sheila’s complex.  Security was nowhere to be found and he casually made his way back up to Sheila’s apartment.  When she opened the door he said, “The security in this building is going downhill fast.  I just came up through the service entrance without any problem, and that furniture delivery thing today was a fiasco." 

“You’re sweaty," Sheila said, wrinkling up her nose.  

“I ran," he confirmed, still slightly out of breath. 

“Well, go run into the shower." 

A young reporter had watched Sheila go into her complex carrying groceries.  Looks like an uneventful night, he thought and began to yawn.  This had been a very long day.  It was safe to assume it was bedtime for everyone.  The individual got into their car and drove away.

Jason and Sandra left the AJC building and drove towards the direction of the address Sheila had given them.  After checking his rearview mirror for the tenth time, he was satisfied that no one was following him.  “You know," he said glancing at Sandra, “I have worked as a reporter for fifteen years and I have never been this paranoid." 

“You’ve probably never been tangled up with a pharmaceutical company before."  

“You’re right about that," he said. “These people are ruthless." 

“Do you have any idea how much money is on the line for a huge empire like Dominex?" Sandra questioned. 

“I assume it’s the same as with any large corporation."

“I was doing a little research of my own today," Sandra began.  “These people stand to make billions every year once the drug goes on the market.  And another interesting thing I discovered.   They have been in a little bit of financial trouble." 

“No shit," Jason interjected. 

“Yeah, and if they don’t get this drug on the market soon, they could even go under." 

“Well, that certainly puts things into a different perspective," he said.  “Feast or famine.  No wonder they’re hot on my trail.” 

“I would suggest a bullet proof vest," Sandra added.  

Jason hoped it would not come to that.

The two reporters sat in Jason’s parked car for several minutes, watching for any street activity.  There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.  People were returning home or leaving to go somewhere.  It was the midtown of a major city.  There was a lot of movement, but nothing that appeared to be focused at them.  Jason nodded to Sandra and they headed for the apartment complex.

Sheila was still in the process of putting order back to her domain when she heard the knock at the door.  Jason identified himself and introduced Sandra.  “She is working on the story with me," he explained.  

Sheila shook both their hands, and said, “This is Jerry Owens."  

After all the mutual greetings, everyone moved inside the apartment. 

“What happened here?" Jason asked, acknowledging the overturned mess. 

“Oh, this," Sheila said.  “Dominex has been doing a little investigation of their own." 

“Not too concerned about you knowing about it, are they?"  

“That’s arrogance," Sandra added. 

“They did the same thing to both our offices," Jerry interjected.  

Jason took in the whole scene and shook his head. 

“For a closed investigation, there is still a lot of interesting activity going on."  

Sheila moved over to the living room area and placed chair cushions back on chairs. 

“We can all sit over here," she offered.

Sheila and Jerry sized up the two reporters quickly and decided to let them in on Dominex’s dark side.  They spent the next hour filling Jason and Sandra in on the antics of the entire research study.  

“That explains why the good Doctor went to his office in the middle of the night to retrieve all the files," Sandra interjected. 

Sheila and Jerry exchanged glances.  The process of merging information was turning into an interesting proposition, to say the least. 

“What do you know about Terry Sanders?" Jason asked. 

“We don’t remember too many details about each volunteer," Jerry began.  “We have detailed documentation, but as soon as we heard about the shooting, we sent it off to a safe place.  That’s probably what Dominex was looking for.

“No doubt," Sandra agreed.    

“When this whole thing started, there were five hundred of them.  Jerry stayed in contact with them while I was being diverted on an assignment a thousand miles away," Sheila explained.  “I had started asking too many questions about the follow up phase of the study." 

“Tell us about that," Jason directed. 

“I was responsible for recruiting all the volunteers for the study," Sheila explained, “so I was involved in all the planning as well." 

“And why was that necessary?" Sandra interjected. 

“In a situation like this, people are tentative about what will be happening to them.  I needed to be able to walk them through the process before they agreed to participate." 

“Makes sense," Sandra agreed. 

“Well, just before the study began, I was informed of some interesting additions to the process," Sheila continued. “The follow up process was supposed to be done at a satellite location by an independent lab, but at the last minute they set up their own lab for Phase Two inside our facility.  The more I questioned the last minute change, the more evasive they got."  

“Interesting," Jason said. 

“I thought so," Sheila agreed, “so I started doing some serious snooping."

“What did you come up with?" Sandra asked. 

“There were memos dated back to the beginning of the planning stages outlining this on site lab." 

“It’s odd that you were never informed of this," Jason said. 

“I was sure that they had set things up this way to control the results," Sheila concluded.  “And when they shipped me out of the area I was sure something was up." 

“So I picked up where Sheila left off," Jerry interjected.  “I stayed in communication with all the volunteers and kept tabs on their progress." 

“Or lack of it," Sheila added.

“We knew that a lot of the volunteers were getting very sick from going off the medication," Jerry explained, “but Carol Freeman was the one that tipped us off about the extreme methods they had resorted to." 

“That’s where t