by Terri Reid
“We should have closed this place down years ago,” one angry male voice said.
“We had to wait until the statute of limitations had expired,” another male voice, weak and apologetic, replied.
“Well, we’re not going to be able to do that, are we?” the first voice answered.
“All we know is that the sensor was activated,” the second man said. “It could have been a maintenance person.”
“They don’t have keys,” the first man said.
“They could have picked the lock,” the second man argued. “Looking for a place to take a nap.”
“Do you really think anyone in their right mind would take a nap in that unit?” the first man roared. “The place gives me the creeps.”
“We just don’t know what happened,” the second man said. “We just have to be calm and reasonable about this whole thing.”
“Do you know what could happen to our company if someone uncovers the fact that we were testing non-FDA-approved drugs on minors?” the first man asked, his voice cold and clipped. “Not just bankruptcy. Prison. I don’t want to go to prison.”
There was silence for a long moment.
“I didn’t know they weren’t approved,” the second man choked. “You never…”
“We didn’t want to spend the money on the approval process until we knew they would work,” the first man said. “These kids were going to die anyway…”
“When does the statute of limitations end?” the second man asked, his voice shaking. “When will we be safe?”
“End of this month,” the first man replied. “So nothing, and I mean nothing, can go wrong. And we really need to tie up any loose ends. Understand?”
“Yeah,” the second man whispered. “I understand.”
The elevator door signal rang, and Margaret heard the doors slide open. Even though she heard them step inside the elevator and heard the doors close, she still waited for several minutes before working up the nerve to peek out of the door.
She nearly gasped aloud when she saw one of the men was still standing in the hallway. She stumbled backwards and fell against a shelf in the supply room, knocking a pile of sheets onto the ground. Whomp! The sound wasn’t loud, but it was noticeable.
“Who’s there?” she heard the voice of the first man. The angry one. She heard the click of shoes against the tile floor. He was coming in her direction.
She slowly moved back into the dark, narrow aisle of the storeroom. Lightly touching the sides to guide herself in the dark, she placed her feet down carefully so she didn’t make another sound.
Please, she prayed. Please don’t let him find me.
Suddenly she heard a loud clatter coming from the hallway. She froze and waited.
“What the hell?” the first man screamed.
The elevator signal rang, and she heard footsteps running away from the storeroom to the elevator. The signal of the door closing sounded, and there was silence.
Margaret put her hand on her chest to calm her heart and finally, slowly moved forward in the room. She peeked out the door and, with a sigh of relief, found that the space in front of the elevator doors was empty. Then she looked over to the nurses station and saw the overhead light swinging vigorously back and forth.
She smiled and nodded in the direction of the light. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll be sure to let the others know what I learned.”
Chapter Forty-three
“Carol Ford?” Alex asked. “Why do I know that name?”
“You know, if I had a dollar for every time someone said that today,” Mary said. “Carol Ford used to work for DCFS, and she was convicted of embezzling funds.”
Alex nodded. “Yes, that’s it,” he said. “They found thousands in her checking account. She denied knowing anything about it.”
Mary sat back in her chair. “Well, that’s interesting,” she said. “She was the caseworker for all of the kids that were part of the study.”
“So, she could have been paid off and someone discovered it,” Bradley suggested.
“Or she found out what they were doing, and they got her out of the way,” Mary added. “Jerry says that her sentence was over the top.”
“Jerry?” Alex asked.
“Jerry Wiley, the editor of the Freeport Republic,” Mary said.
“Wiley has a first name?” Alex asked, astonished. “Okay, well, Wiley knows his stuff. What did she get?”
“Thirty years,” Mary said.
“Thirty for embezzling?” Alex exclaimed. “That’s crazy. She won’t get out…”
“Until next year,” Mary said. “She’s served twenty-nine years.”
“She didn’t get parole?” Bradley asked.
Mary shook her head. “No, no parole,” she said. “I haven’t had a chance to look at her records…” She looked at Alex and raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I’ll get on that right away,” he replied with a smile. “But, I think I’ll want to review them first.”
Mary nodded. “When can we get in to see her?” she asked.
“How does tomorrow sound?” he asked.
“Sounds great,” Mary said. “Sounds like she might be holding the key to this whole thing.”
“We should also look at the names of the people on the parole board for her,” Bradley said, “and see if any of them have been associated with the hospital.”
Mary turned from Alex to Bradley. “Okay, sorry, you’re going to have to explain that one to me,” she said.
“Unless she was a terrible prisoner, and I would have heard about that,” Alex said, “there is no way she shouldn’t have been able to knock at least half of the time off her sentence. She wasn’t dangerous. She wasn’t a repeat offender. This was a white collar crime. So, someone wanted her to stay in prison.”
Mary nodded in understanding. “Oh, because she had information,” she said, “they wanted to hush her up.”
“Potentially,” Bradley said. “That’s the angle I want to explore.”
“Okay, yeah, let’s explore that angle,” Alex agreed. “But let’s first talk about the men in black. And what we’re going to do about them.”
“Men in black?” Mary asked. “What did I miss?”
The bell over her office door rang, and all three of them turned to see Margaret rush into the office. “Oh, good,” she breathed. “I’m so glad you’re all here.”
Mary pushed herself out of her chair and hurried forward. “Mom, are you okay?”
Margaret shook her head. “No. No indeed,” she said. “I’m not okay. And I really need to talk about it.”
Bradley and Alex were both immediately at her side, helping her into a chair.
“Just sit down, Margaret,” Bradley said. “And take a couple of deep breaths.”
“Well, I’ll sit,” Margaret agreed. “But I need to tell someone before I explode.”
“What, Mom?” Mary asked. “What do you need to tell us?
“I need to tell you about what happened to me at the hospital.”
Chapter Forty-four
“Are you sure this is what you heard?” Alex asked after Margaret had relayed the conversation she overheard while she was in the supply room.
“Young man,” Margaret said, “I not only have been married to a police officer for more than 50 years. I have also raised four police officers. I understand how important it is to ensure someone’s testimony is offered as truthfully and clearly as possible. I am sure this is what I heard.”
Alex nodded. “I believe you, Mrs. O’Reilly,” he said. “And, for the record, I didn’t doubt you for a moment.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you, Alex,” she replied. “But now what are we going to do?”
“Well, first,” Alex said, looking at Bradley, “I’m going to need those drug samples and the notebooks you rescued from the hospital.”
“No problem,” Bradley said. “I can bring those to your office after this meeting.”
Alex was silent
for a moment, and then he shook his head. “No, why don’t you bring them to my house instead,” he said. “Let’s be careful until we know who our friends are.”
“And who our enemies are,” Mary added. “This is crazy. Why would they give drugs to children that hadn’t been cleared by the FDA?”
“Because it can cost billions of dollars for research and development to get drugs to a point where they can be evaluated by the FDA,” Alex said.
“Billions?” Mary asked, astonished.
“Yes. With a B,” Alex replied.
“That’s a huge budget,” Bradley said. “And if someone were circumventing the budget in order to line their own pockets…”
“You don’t think the company itself did this?” Margaret asked.
“I’m not sure,” Bradley said. “But it doesn’t make sense that a company would risk everything just to cut a few corners, especially back then when the FDA was eager to approve drugs that were AIDS related.”
“That makes it even more dangerous,” Alex said. “One person, or a small group of people, can get frightened into doing stupid things.”
“So, they’re tying up loose ends,” Mary said. “That’s what Ma heard them say. I wonder if they cleaned out all the rest of the samples and data when they were in the unit this afternoon.”
“You’re not going to find out,” Alex said.
“Excuse me?” Mary asked, a little annoyed that he had shut her down so quickly.
“If they have a sensor that notifies them when people enter the unit, the more times we go in and out the more frightened and dangerous they become,” he explained. “If we already have samples with dates and records with dates, we don’t need anything else.”
She took a long breath. “Okay, that makes sense,” she agreed. “But there’s got to be something else in that unit that we haven’t discovered yet.”
“Why do you say that?” Margaret asked.
“If they took the rest of the records and the samples,” Mary said, “why do they have to demolish the area early? If it’s cleaned out, why attract more attention to the space?”
Alex unfolded himself from his chair and slowly paced the room. “You’re right,” he said. “There’s something there. But I don’t want to risk—”
“The elevator,” Margaret interrupted.
“What?” Alex asked.
“The day I was trying to get down to the girls on the third floor, the nurse said the elevator had been acting up,” Margaret said. “Something with the wiring. If we were able to cut the power to that area of the hospital and say it was because they were repairing the elevator, the sensor would be shut down, wouldn’t it?”
“If the sensor was installed in the nineties, it would not be on battery or solar power,” Bradley said. “It would rely on power from the hospital.”
“But how do we know which section the unit is powered from?” Alex asked.
Bradley thought about Mel and nodded. “I know a guy.”
Chapter Forty-five
“It’s Friday, right?” Mary asked as she walked into the house and sat on the nearest chair, too tired to even take her coat off.
“No, it’s only Tuesday,” Clarissa grumbled, her head resting in her hands as she watched a show on the television. “And it’s boring.”
Margaret came in from the kitchen. “How did the rest of your day go?” she asked.
Mary sighed. “I spent the rest of the afternoon going through the file on the children,” she said. “I made a lot of notes, but nothing seemed to be significant.”
“Did you hear that, Clarissa?” Margaret said. “Your mother has been working on the ghost children in the hospital case.”
Clarissa shrugged in response. “Great,” she said indifferently. “At least they have friends.”
“You could have a friend too,” Mary said, “if you would walk over to Maggie’s and apologize.”
Clarissa whipped around quickly to face her mother. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” she exclaimed.
“Perhaps not,” Mary agreed. “But you made Maggie sad, even if it was unintentional. So you could tell her that you are sorry you made her sad.”
Clarissa turned back to the television. “She should apologize to me first,” she said. “She was the one who called me a big baby. She should say sorry.”
Mary nodded, too tired to continue with the argument. “You’re probably right,” she said, pushing herself out of the chair to hang her coat up. “But then you need to decide if you would rather be lonely or right.”
Clarissa didn’t respond, and Mary followed her mother back into the kitchen.
“Was I ever…” Mary began.
“Yes, you were that stubborn,” Margaret said with a smile. “And you were about the same age. But, eventually you came around.”
Mary climbed onto a barstool, picked up a carrot and took a bite. “And, obviously, you survived,” she remarked.
Margaret laughed. “Aye, I did,” she agreed. “But I wasn’t pregnant when you were Clarissa’s age.”
Sighing, Mary nodded. “I just want to be sure I’m not reacting because I’m pregnant and tired,” she said. “I want to be fair.”
Margaret chopped several stalks of celery as she spoke. “What I heard out there was more than fair,” she said. “Clarissa needs to humble herself a little and approach Maggie.”
“That might take a while,” Mary said.
“The only one she’s hurting is herself,” Margaret replied. “I watched her get off the bus. Maggie was all smiles and laughter, playing around with her brothers. Clarissa was sullen and angry. Your poor door took quite a bit of abuse.”
“Well, hopefully the door won’t have to be abused for too much longer,” Mary replied. She inhaled deeply. “Everything smells delicious. What are you making?”
Margaret smiled. “Homemade chicken soup with dumplings,” she said. “It seemed like that kind of day.”
Mary leaned forward and placed a kiss on her mother’s soft cheek. “You have just brightened my whole day,” she said. “What can I do to help?”
Margaret picked up the celery and placed it in a cast iron pan to sauté. “You can go upstairs and take a nap before dinner,” she said.
“Ma, I want to help,” Mary argued.
“You and Mikey have had a full day,” Margaret stated in a tone that brooked no argument. “You go and put your feet up for a little while. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”
“Thank you,” Mary said, more grateful than she wanted to admit. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will, darling,” Margaret replied with a tender smile. “Go. Sleep.”
Chapter Forty-six
The fire crackled in the fireplace, and soft music floated in the air. Mary sighed contentedly and lifted another piece of popcorn into her mouth. “This is just perfect,” she said. “I feel so relaxed.”
“Good,” her mother said, sitting in the recliner near her. “I’m so glad to hear that. You need to relax.”
“Any more relaxed and I’d be asleep,” she laughed. “So, Clarissa, how’s your paper going?”
Clarissa sighed dramatically. “Fine, I guess,” she said. “It supposed to be about my Christmas vacation, but since Maggie isn’t my friend anymore, I can’t talk about her.” She threw her pencil onto the coffee table. “I just can’t write about anything.”
Mary looked over at Bradley, who was sitting behind Clarissa, and he rolled his eyes. “Well,” he said, trying to be patient. “You could write about Grandpa Stanley and his time in the hospital.”
“I guess,” she said as she picked up her pencil again, and with her head leaning against her other hand, she started to write.
“So, what’s your day like tomorrow?” Margaret asked.
“I’m going into the office again,” Mary said, “if that’s fine with you.”
“That’s perfect,” Margaret said. “I was going to spend the day making up casseroles for your freezer.”
“W
hy does our freezer need casseroles?” Clarissa asked.
“Grandma is going to make some dinners and freeze them so we can eat them later,” Mary explained. “When she isn’t here with us anymore.”
Clarissa looked over her shoulder at Margaret. “Don’t you want to stay forever?” she asked.
Margaret leaned forward and hugged her granddaughter. “Oh, darling, I would love that,” she said. “But eventually I do have to go home and take care of Grandpa.”
“Fine,” Clarissa sighed. “I guess you should take care of Grandpa.”
“Why thank you, dear,” Margaret said. “I’m sure he would be very happy to hear you say that.”
Bradley coughed to cover his laughter and then shook his head. “Mary,” he said, trying to change the subject, “what are you doing at your office?”
“The funniest thing happened today,” she said. “Mike stopped by my office and, among other things, suggested that I not renew my lease for my office.”
“For heavens sake, why not?” Margaret asked. “It’s such a nice place.”
Mary shrugged. “I have no idea,” she said. “He was fairly closed-lipped about the reason. But…”
“But when an angel suggests something,” Bradley inserted, “it’s wise to listen.”
Mary nodded. “That’s what I thought too,” she agreed. “So, I’m going to start going through things and packing up.”
“Where are you going to work if you don’t work there?” Clarissa asked.
“I’m not sure,” Mary replied. “But, I was going to take some time off work when Mikey was born anyway. So, I guess I can figure it out then.”
“That’s a good idea,” Margaret agreed. “Once a wee baby comes into a home a lot of things change.”
“We could move,” Clarissa said.
“What?” Bradley asked.
“We could move,” she repeated. Then her voice trembled. “Because it’s not like I have any friends that live close by or anything.”
“Clarissa,” Mary said sympathetically.
Brushing some tears from her cheeks, Clarissa shook her head. “I’m going upstairs,” she announced, picking up her notebook and pencil. “I’m tired.”