She would no longer hide from things that threatened her. That included Randall Barrett.
She was ready to be all that she’d wanted to be.
She luxuriated in the knowledge that her career was finally going in the direction she wanted it to go. Finally she’d get the files she yearned for. Triumph bubbled inside her. She knew it was short-lived champagne fizz. She’d had time to do some thinking over the past week. Recuperating at home had shown her what she’d been missing: the simple companionship of her dog, the undemanding friendship of Enid and Muriel, the pleasure of sharing a meal with someone. She wanted more challenging work but not at the expense of the rest of her life. Hopefully, Randall would respect that.
If not, her options were looking good. She’d generated a lot of litigation business for firms across Canada. Class-action suits against TransTissue were springing up all over the place. TransTissue was screwed; law firm profits were on the rise. The law of supply and demand was alive and well.
She returned home at 5:30 p.m. Alaska greeted her with his usual delight. “Come on, boy.” She grabbed an apple and they sat together on the steps of her back porch. The sun was warm on her neck. Alaska lifted his nose to the breeze. The earth was pungent, full of promise. Tiny buds in vibrant green poked through the soil.
The little buds were brave and bold, sure of their place in the dark depths of her garden. She would get some fertilizer. She would weed the garden. She would invite Enid and Muriel to tea and let Muriel crumble the earth between her fingers.
Spring always came late in Halifax. Now that it was here, she would soak up the sun.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
DAMAGED was inspired by an actual tissue brokering case that originated in the U.S. but had ramifications in Canada. Despite the sensational facts of this case, and my fictionalization of it, tissue and organ donations help many people. My husband and I have signed our tissue and organ donor cards, and have encouraged our children to do the same.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I wholeheartedly thank those who took time from their busy schedules to share their expertise with me:
Constable Jeff Carr, Media Relations, Detective Curtis Pyke, Forensic Identification Technician, and Sergeant Jeff Clarke, Major Crime Unit, all of the Halifax Regional Police Department, who patiently took me through police procedures;
Dr. Martin Bullock, M.D., FRCP, who helped me understand the forensic pathology process;
Ms. Cindy Burchell, who broke down the blood testing process for me; and
Ms. Judith Ferguson, LL.B., who graciously gave me an impromptu briefing on child protection while we waited for our kids’ soccer practice to end.
Any mistakes in this book are mine alone and I apologize in advance to those who generously shared their expertise.
I want to thank everyone at MIRA Books for their hard work to make Damaged the best it can be, with especial thanks to my editor, the fabulous Valerie Gray. I am so fortunate to be guided through the publishing process by such a fine editor. Her enthusiasm and gentle coaching have made this a truly wonderful experience.
I also want to thank my fantastic, hard-working agent, Emily Sylvan Kim of Prospect Agency, whose encouragement and advice have been invaluable.
Writing is an act of faith. I am blessed to have had so many friends support me:
My talented critique partner, Kelly Boyce, who shares the same passion as I;
Authors Julianne MacLean, Cathryn Fox and Stella MacLean, who I’m lucky enough to have as mentors and friends;
My RWAC chapter: the road would have been longer—and lonelier—without them;
My father and my sister, who have always been there for me;
My brother (and best friend) who always makes me laugh; and
My fellow traveler, best friend and creative sounding board, Linda Brooks.
Last, but foremost in my heart, I want to thank Dan, Julia, Katrina and Peaches. They are the ones that live with me every day, yet love me, anyway.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5604-4
DAMAGED
Copyright © 2010 by Pamela Callow.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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