Malice

by Jennifer Jaynes

  The sales representatives also left plenty of sound bites that he and the others often used to support the sales of their products. Sound bites that, to be honest, he sometimes felt a little disingenuous using, but he usually ended up doing so, anyway, because time was always limited, and it was easy.

  A few months back, Teddy had made it clear he was interested in grooming Daniel as a partner, so now he was including him not only in drug meetings like this but also in some of the practice’s business meetings. The possibility of becoming Teddy’s partner would be a major game-changer in terms of Daniel’s career. Not only would he practically double his salary overnight, he’d earn much more respect from his colleagues. It would also be a big step toward owning his own practice one day. He wasn’t quite sure if that was what he wanted to do career-wise, but he was a big believer in keeping his options open.

  Thomas handed Daniel a one-page information statement. “We at Immunext are so excited to roll out Respira to this region. It’s the first pharmaceutical of its kind. A new class of pharmaceuticals called immunoceuticals,” Thomas said, smiling widely. “Respira is exciting because it both protects against rhinovirus and provides a child’s immune system a powerful boost.”

  As Thomas spoke, Daniel couldn’t help but think about Mia again. He wondered what she was up to this afternoon and wished he’d been able to spend one more day with her before returning to work. Their two-week honeymoon had gone by way too quickly.

  “As we all know,” Thomas was saying, “rhinovirus has been proven to be a gateway to serious upper respiratory infections, like bronchitis and pneumonia. It also depresses the immune system, which could make children more susceptible to an influenza infection. And we all know how deadly influenza can be—especially for children.”

  Daniel felt the pharmaceutical rep was laying it on a bit thick. It was just the common cold they were talking about. Even though Teddy seemed very excited about Respira, Daniel was doubtful many of his patients would be interested in it. Much of their practice, especially the parents of their most affluent patients, were already hesitant about vaccines, often cherry-picking or flatly refusing them. Daniel was pretty sure if they were worried about vaccines, they’d be worried about this drug, too, especially since it was another injection.

  At the end of the presentation, Teddy cut in, “It’s important to be very careful with semantics with this one. The way we’ve been framing Respira here at the clinic is that it’s not a vaccine—at least, not in the traditional sense. So, we never use the word, okay? And the risk of serious side effects? One in a million. A kid is more likely to be struck by lightning. A parent couldn’t ask for better odds.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “What’s more,” Teddy continued, “parents need to be told that protecting their child from rhinovirus helps protect all the children their child comes in contact with, including those who have underlying health conditions. So, protecting their child could save other lives, too. It’s very important to include this, especially if a parent seems hesitant.”

  Thomas smiled at Teddy. “Great job, Teddy. You should come and work for us at Immunext.”

  Teddy and Thomas laughed.

  Thomas’s eyes snapped back to Daniel. “All joking aside, Dr. Winters,” he said, “if you present Respira to parents the way Teddy just did, few parents will feel comfortable refusing.”

  “What do you think, Danny?” Teddy asked. “Eradicating the common cold?”

  “Sounds exciting,” Daniel said, but he wasn’t so sure he meant it.

  “It is.” Teddy smiled. “Respira is going to change everything.”

  CHAPTER 3

  RACHEL

  GRAY CLOUDS HUNG low and ominous in the sky as Rachel Jacobs, twenty-six, hurried up the sidewalk and rang the doorbell at 323B Jamestown Street—one of many modest duplexes off Topanga Canyon Road.

  As she waited, she pulled from her coat pocket the postcard she’d received in the mail from her daughter’s pediatrician and read it for a second time. It advertised a new drug that could be important for Suzie’s health. She refolded the postcard and stuffed it in her pocket. Pushing a wisp of blonde hair behind her ear, she listened to the muffled chaos ensuing from the other side of the door.

  A raindrop plopped on her forehead.

  Then another one.

  As she wiped the raindrops away, she heard the distant rumble of thunder.

  Just when she was about to knock again, the door flew open, and her babysitter, Martha, appeared. She was holding a little boy and looked as exhausted as ever—just like Rachel imagined someone might look after spending a day in hell.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” Rachel said. Her boss, Jeff, had kept her working late again for the third evening in a row, and she worried that Martha might decide to stop watching Suzie because of it.

  Martha flashed her a weary smile. “No problem. Come on in.”

  She pushed open the screen door and motioned for Rachel to follow her, then disappeared down the hallway, a small white dog yapping at her feet.

  Rachel stepped inside and grimaced. The place reeked like a dirty diaper. It was also messier than usual. She stepped over a one-eyed Dora the Explorer doll and followed Martha deeper into the home. When she reached the playroom, a bare-bottomed toddler suddenly streaked past, squealing in delight. Martha quickly turned on her heel and chased after him.

  Rachel scanned the room and saw her eighteen-month-old daughter sitting in a playpen in the back corner of the room. When Suzie’s eyes met hers, she squealed and pulled herself to her feet. With Fluff Fluff the bunny, her favorite stuffed animal, clutched in one of her pudgy hands, she held out her arms. “Mama! Up! Mama up!”

  Rachel’s heart filled the way it always did when she finally saw her daughter after a long day of work. “Hi, princess,” she cooed and scooped the little girl into her arms. She buried her nose in Suzie’s butter-blonde ringlets and soaked up her sweet baby smell. She was wearing a pink princess dress, and it had what looked like ketchup stains on the front. Rachel said goodbye to Martha, then headed back out of the disaster of a home, hoping that someday soon she’d be able to afford something nicer for Suzie.

  Ten minutes later, Rachel swung open the door to her small one-bedroom apartment at Chatsworth Commons. She set Suzie down, peeled off her damp cardigan, and began preparing dinner. After they’d eaten, and Suzie had been bathed and read to, Rachel rocked her to sleep, then settled her down in her crib and placed the raggedy stuffed bunny at her side. Finally having a moment to herself, Rachel stepped out of her work clothes and grabbed the baby monitor so that she could take a long bath.

  As the water ran, she stared at herself in the mirror, realizing she looked almost as exhausted as she felt. Being a single mother was hard. Really hard. She was always rushing to get somewhere and was often late.

  She picked up the baby monitor to check on Suzie. Assured her daughter was sleeping peacefully, she stepped into the hot water and sat down. She sighed, enjoying the heat, and willed her muscles to relax.

  Since having Suzie, she’d become a chronic worrier. She worried she wasn’t spending enough time with her, that she wasn’t present enough when she was, that she wasn’t feeding her the right foods, using the right diapers, that leaving her in the hands of someone like Martha instead of a real day care was going to ruin her somehow. But she was doing her best. She really was.

  She was one semester away from earning a computer science degree online from Old Dominion University. Entry-level jobs paid $10,000 more than what she was making at her crap job at the law firm, and most offered a full package of benefits. Once she graduated and landed a job in the field, she’d be able to put Suzie in a real day care and maybe even get a new apartment in a safer area.

  Things will get better. They have to, she assured herself.

  After her bath, she slipped her pajamas on and went to Suzie’s crib. “Good night, sweetie,” she whispered. She leaned over the railing and pressed her lips to
her daughter’s soft forehead, then went to her bed and sat down.

  As she did every night, she reached into the nightstand and pulled out a small metal box. She worked the dial on the combination lock with her thumb and forefinger as quickly as she could, then yanked down hard on it.

  The lock released, and she opened the box. Inside was a loaded .38-caliber Smith & Wesson her aunt had given her before she’d made the move to LA. She’d gotten into the routine of unlocking the box every night to ensure she didn’t forget the combination in the event she and Suzie ever needed it. She closed the box, locked it, and secreted it away again in her nightstand.

  Listening to the wet whisper of cars passing on the street outside her bedroom window, she picked up the postcard from Suzie’s pediatrician’s office. Healing Hands Pediatrics was one of the most sought-after pediatric clinics in Los Angeles, and many famous people took their kids there. Although Pacific Palisades was a thirty-mile drive from Chatsworth, the trek was worth it because she knew that Suzie would receive the very best care. If Martha hadn’t known the clinic’s office manager and pulled some strings, it would have been next to impossible to get Suzie seen as a patient, even though she had fairly good health insurance. They had a waiting list for new patients that was more than a year long.

  She read over the postcard again and wondered if she could get Suzie an appointment tomorrow since she had the morning off, a rarity with her hectic schedule. She’d call right away when they opened and see. She didn’t want to miss out on an important new drug that might help her daughter.

  She flipped off her bedside lamp, and the room went black. Curling up beneath the covers, she listened to the wind outside push against her window until sleep finally stole her away.

  CHAPTER 4

  DANIEL

  WHEN DANIEL GOT home, the house smelled like a mixture of lemon-scented cleaning products and a home-cooked meal. Bruce darted ahead of him as Daniel set his umbrella in the foyer. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the coatrack, then followed the dog’s lead deeper into the house. He found his new wife waiting for him in the kitchen.

  Dressed in nothing more than one of his white dress shirts, she knelt and handed Bruce a treat. “Here you go, good boy,” she said and massaged the scruff around the dog’s neck.

  “Um, I was a good boy, too,” Daniel said, strolling up to her. “Don’t I get a treat?”

  Her smile grew wider, and she walked into his arms. He kissed her and tasted wine and cinnamon on her lips.

  “You get two treats, Doc.”

  “Yeah? And what would those be?”

  “Dinner. And me.” She winked.

  Daniel glanced at his dog, who was now lying next to the couch, crunching on his dog biscuit. “You hear that? I get her. Not you. Me.”

  Mia grabbed his hand and led him to the double French doors that opened to an expansive partially screened-in deck. The table was set, and string lights illuminated the homey space with soft, warm light. She guided him to a seat and motioned for him to sit.

  “You relax. I’ll be just a minute with the food,” she said, then disappeared inside. As he waited, he sipped iced jasmine tea and watched swollen clouds float in packs above the choppy Pacific. He sat thinking about how far he’d come from the cluttered double-wide trailer he’d lived in with his twin sister and father most of his childhood.

  His father had been addicted to both alcohol and women—and ended up throwing everything away chasing both. When his dad committed suicide, Daniel didn’t go to the funeral. He had attended too many of them already. He’d buried his mother when he was six. And a brother just a few years later. Now the only family he had was Mia and his twin sister, Claire.

  He’d been stunned when, during his medical residency, he’d received a certified letter from the lawyer of a wealthy uncle he’d met only once. He’d willed his Malibu home to Daniel. Daniel had moved into the house right after his residency and started working at Healing Hands Pediatrics less than a month later.

  Mia walked out onto the deck and set his plate in front of him: New York strip steak, potato salad with bacon drippings, and roasted asparagus. All his favorites.

  A few minutes later, Mia was sitting across from him, and he was filling her in on his day.

  “What exactly is rhinovirus?” she asked, stabbing at her roasted asparagus.

  “It’s just a fancy name for the common cold.”

  Mia raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. I didn’t realize catching a cold was so dangerous. I thought we built up our immune systems by getting sick. So, this drug is basically for convenience? So that kids don’t miss school and parents don’t miss work?”

  “I guess that would be true for some families. But many of today’s kids have compromised immune systems, and getting the common cold can be dangerous for them,” he said, repeating the pharma rep’s words without any forethought.

  She still looked doubtful.

  He was doubtful, too. He thought Thomas’s pitch had been weak. The whole aspect of rhinovirus being a gateway to more dangerous illnesses had seemed to be a stretch. But then again, there was no denying that Teddy was excited about it—and Teddy had almost three decades of experience as a pediatrician, which more than trumped the two years that Daniel had under his belt. Maybe he was missing something.

  “Why do so many kids have compromised immune systems now?” Mia asked.

  “Plastics, pollution, all the chemicals they add to our food.” He shrugged. “No one really knows.”

  He realized he didn’t want to think about work anymore. He was at home with his new wife, his dog. He wanted his brain to be here now, too.

  “How about you? What’d you do today? Other than ignore my texts?” he asked, feeling a little ridiculous about being concerned earlier in the day when she hadn’t replied to his texts as quickly as she usually did. She’d replied midafternoon and had apologized for taking so long to get back to him. She said she’d left her phone on the deck and hadn’t seen his texts until later.

  She wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Um, I believe I paid you back handsomely for that.”

  “That you did,” he agreed. She’d sent a sexy photo along with her apology.

  “I stayed pretty busy.”

  “Doing—?”

  “Let’s see. Well, I walked the beach this morning, then went to the market. I finished unpacking our luggage and did some laundry. I cooked dinner . . .”

  Daniel studied Mia as she talked. Her presence in his life made him realize that there had been a part of him that had been lying dormant all these years. A part that was only now being fed by having someone warm to come home to. Not just any someone, but a woman whom he truly connected with. There was still so much to learn about her. So much that he didn’t know yet. But that only lent to the mystery, the excitement.

  “Oh, wait. I almost forgot,” Mia said, her eyes widening. “You never told me about the panic room.”

  He knitted his eyebrows. “The what?”

  “Panic room!” She stared at him. “You know, a room they build in some houses to store valuables. Or in case there’s a break-in. I’ve read about them in books but had never seen one before today. You didn’t know about it?”

  “I had no idea. Where is it?”

  “In the bedroom closet behind the full-length mirror,” she said. “I was placing a bin on one of the top shelves earlier and bumped the mirror with my shoulder. The thing just popped open.”

  Interesting.

  They were still talking about the panic room when Daniel’s cell phone rang. He checked the name on the screen. It was Andy, a young medical student who was interning at the free clinic in Tarzana where Daniel volunteered. Daniel had taken Andy on as a sort of mentee, and Andy still called every now and then for advice. Andy was also his racquetball buddy, although the sport was one of many things that had fallen by the wayside since he’d met Mia.

  Daniel excused himself and went into the living room to take the call. “Ready
for another ass whooping, big guy?” he asked.

  Andy laughed. “Seriously? You’re an old married man now. You don’t stand a chance.”

  Daniel chuckled. “Sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I just got back into town yesterday.”

  “No worries. Have a good honeymoon?”

  “Yes. It was pretty amazing,” he said, snippets of memories flashing into his head. “So,” he said, “what’s up?”

  “I was wondering if you guys are prescribing Respira at your clinic yet,” Andy said.

  “Yeah, the clinic started about two weeks ago. I just started prescribing it myself today. Why?”

  There was silence on the other end of the line. Then: “Have any of your patients experienced bad reactions to it?”

  “With the Respira?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not that I know of. But, like I said, today was my first day back. Why do you ask?”

  “We’ve just had some . . . problems.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “A handful of toddlers have had seizures within hours of administration,” he said. “A few kids have complained of migraine headaches. But you know the type of volume we get here. I didn’t think much of it at first, because it’s certainly not unheard of for kids to get seizures after vaccines, but we also had a kid, a four-year-old, go into cardiac arrest today. Right here in the clinic,” Andy said.

  Daniel rubbed his chin. “Due to the Respira?”

  “Yeah, man. It freaked me out. Respira was all the boy got, and it happened ten minutes after the injection. No history of cardiac issues.”

  “That’s awful. Is he okay?”

  “We were able to get him back into rhythm fairly quickly, but he’s in the hospital, having tests run. I was wondering if you guys were experiencing the same kind of thing, because it just seems like a shitload of reactions in a month’s time.”