by Dana Killion
I needed help. I found Brynn holed up in an empty conference room, large noise-canceling headphones over her ears, and a pile of documents spread out on the table in front of her. Engrossed in her work, she hadn’t noticed me.
I pulled out a chair and sat down beside her. She tapped off her music and pulled the headphones down around her neck.
“Are you working on anything that can be interrupted?”
“Are you kidding? I’m blasting music to keep myself from falling dead asleep on the table. What do you need?”
Brynn was a computer whiz. She could turn over rocks that I didn’t know existed. “I need some information on a private company. I’m looking for investors, any outstanding loans. Basically I want a deep financial dive. You game?”
“Anything to get me away from analyzing the decline in membership in the Junior League, duh.” She rolled her eyes. “What’s the company?”
“VTF Industries.”
She slipped the headphone off completely and laid them on the table, then tilted her head as she looked at me. “You want me to investigate your friend’s company? I know it’s none of my business, but why not just ask him?”
“I’m not sure he’d tell me the truth,” I said, the hard reality difficult to face. “I told you about Cavanaugh’s claims. Well, they may be accurate. There’s been another death.”
“What?” She leaned forward, her eyes wide, placing her elbows on the table.
“A young man. Twenty-two. He was a personal trainer with Equinox. He’d been fasting, drinking only VTF products for several days. His roommate found him this morning. Obviously, we don’t have enough information yet, but it’s hard not to wonder if those dots connect. I also don’t want my sister to be victim number three.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing myself say. Seth was someone I’d have trusted with my life. Now I didn’t know what to believe about him.
“They’re both around my age, the victims, I mean,” she said slowly, letting the idea that one of her contemporaries had faced his own mortality sink in. “Do you think that means something?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps twenty-something's are simply the target market for the product?” I shrugged. Based on VTF’s marketing images, it was logical to assume this was the target demographic.
“Anything specific on the financial angle? Are you thinking bankruptcy?”
“Seth told me there’s an IPO planned for early next year. I’m wondering how leveraged VTF Industries is going into the deal. It also means a big windfall for him and anyone else with skin in the game. I’m wondering who else that might be.”
“Done. Say no more, I’m on it. Do you want this to take priority over the information you asked for on Nadell Capital?”
I nodded. “And Borkowski doesn’t need to hear about this yet either. I’ll figure out what to tell him when I know more.”
“You got it, boss.” She smiled and winked. “I hope your sister’s okay.”
I returned to my office racking my brain for any mention Seth may have made of investors. He’d always been a good salesman, a glass-three-quarters-full kind of guy. I knew that he’d struggled in the early years to some degree, as everyone did, but at the time, he’d spoken about it as if it were momentary inconvenience, not a make-or-break moment. If he’d ever mentioned a financial partner or any kind of cash infusion, it wasn’t coming to mind. Then again, would he have shared that with me? Appearances meant a great deal to him; would he have viewed taking on a partner as a win, or some type of flaw in his ability to make it on his own?
And what about the jealous competitor theory that Seth was floating? I wasn’t buying it, but I pulled up some data. Projected to reach $60 billion dollars in the next few years, the energy drink industry was dominated by a handful of major players such as Red Bull.
VTF wasn’t a threat to the big guys. It simply picked up the crumbs by targeting the under-tapped subcategory of organic. The smaller players like VTF, typically sold things like kombucha, raw-pressed juice combos, or bottled flavored teas. However, it could be viewed as an acquisition target.
If Seth were to be believed, and a competitor was coming after him, logistics were the key. I let myself mull that over. The only options I saw were tampering within the plant, which meant an employee, or tampering at the supplier level, and that would have meant cooperation between multiple parties. A pissed off employee seemed the more likely bet. And that brought me back to Cavanaugh.
I didn’t think for a second the man would have done something intentionally to harm his own daughter, but bad judgement with unintended consequences was another story.
My internet dabbling was also bringing up articles about the health concerns related to energy drinks. Caffeine was the stimulant of choice in all of them, VTF’s included, although none had levels beyond what was generally considered safe. References were also made to stimulant additives such as guarana, taurine, and L-carnitine.
Several individuals were alleged to have died from cardiac arrest after ingesting high caffeine and taurine energy drinks, but I couldn’t find a case that had proven the causal effect. The information sent a chill of fear down my spine. Lane practically mainlined coffee. Adding in the VTF dosage, who knew how high her daily intake was. I made a note to look for specific legal case details and to talk to the hospital staff about cutting her off. The bottom line seemed to be that no one knew what the combined effect of the caffeine and the stimulants did to the body, let alone multiple bottles.
I sent Michael a text reminding him that he’d agreed to let me meet with the ME to discuss Kelly Cavanaugh’s autopsy report provided we went together.
As I sat the phone down and swung my eyes back to my computer screen, it rang. I grabbed it, my eyes still on the data.
“Andrea, I’m so glad I caught you. This is Candiss Nadell. I wanted to follow up on our conversation about increasing your involvement in the Drea Foundation. Could you free yourself up for lunch so that we might speak further? We’re busy with our strategic planning and I’d love your input.”
“Yes, I’d love to be involved. However, there’s a personal situation that’s developed since we last spoke that’s pressing. I’m not sure the timing is right.”
I felt guilty saying no. These girls needed every bit of help they could get, but right now I wasn’t sure I could afford the distraction.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can help with? That sounded like I was prying, didn’t it? I just meant feel free to reach out. After all that’s what Drea is founded on, women supporting other women.”
“No, you’re not prying. It’s my sister. She’s fallen ill and has been hospitalized. I’m sure we’ll have her situation sorted through shortly. I’ll be in touch soon.”
“How awful. Again, please let me know if there’s anything at all I can do.”
“Thank you. I’ll speak to you when I can,” I said, ending the call.
As always, Candiss had maintained her charm and grace. Hmm, Candiss had known Seth for a long time. Did she know anything about his investors? Perhaps even invested herself?
20
It was four o’clock in the afternoon and the diner I had just entered was nearly empty, occupied only by a couple of guys in electrician uniforms nursing their coffee at the counter. The acrid scent of a pot burned down hit my nose, reminding me that I disliked the stuff. I’d received a call an hour ago from Olivia, the VTF production assistant I’d met yesterday morning. She’d asked if we could talk. Although I was anxious to get back to the hospital, Olivia was on my list of people to circle back to, so I suggested a coffee shop in the Loop that was easy for both of us.
A waitress in a light blue polo and matching bandana around her head, told me to sit anywhere as she topped off the men’s cups. I walked to the far corner and took a booth away from the window where we’d have some privacy. If Olivia wanted to talk, I was going to make it as easy as I could.
Finished with her customers, the waitre
ss came over, and dropped a menu onto the table. I ordered a bowl of fruit and a cup of hot water, expecting the mediocre black teas most diners seemed to stock. She looked at me over the top of her glasses but kept quiet. Most likely thinking that my tip wouldn’t be worth her time.
I pulled a Ziploc bag out of my purse and fished out a decent bag of tea, and a honey stick. I was always prepared for a tea emergency.
Olivia joined me a moment later. She mumbled hello and slid into the booth. After removing her canvas army jacket and knit hat, she balled them into the corner of the booth. Strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail and hung limp around her face which was pink from the cold.
The waitress returned with my order. “I see Lipton isn’t your thing.” I shrugged and smiled. “How about you, honey?” she said to Olivia. “Do you drink fancy tea too?”
“Coffee, cream and sugar.”
“My kinda girl.”
The waitress gone, I sat quietly waiting for Olivia. I had about twenty thousand questions I wanted to throw at her, but she’d been the one who’d asked to meet so I waited.
“I looked you up,” she said. “You’re a reporter, right? That’s why you were at the plant. You’re doing a story on us.”
“I work for Link-Media. It’s a digital news organization so we’re online content. As I said yesterday, I was gathering some background research.” I decided to leave it at that for the moment and see where this was leading.
“What kind of story is it?”
I dunked my tea bag and stirred in the honey before responding, calculating how to manage the conversation. I could tell she was feeling me out and had a sensitive bullshit meter, but I was anxious to get to the hospital. I made a gamble that she would appreciate someone who cut to the chase.
“Olivia, I’ll make a deal with you,” I said, leaning my elbows on the table. “If you’re willing to tell me exactly why you wanted to see me, I’ll be straight with you on whatever questions you have. I’m glad that you called me, I just don’t have a lot of time today. My sister’s in the hospital and I’m a little preoccupied. I’m meeting with you on my way to see her. So, why don’t we both just agree to be direct. And then maybe we can speak more another time.”
She thought for a moment. “That’s cool with me,” she said. “But I have one question first.” I nodded for her to continue. “Do you have something going on with Seth? It looked like you guys were tight.”
She said it as if she’d already made assumptions about what “tight” meant.
“We’re friends. I’ve known him for about eight years. He helped my sister out of a jam with a not-so-nice boyfriend several years ago, so I respect him.” I took a sip of my tea before continuing. “Despite our friendship, if you’re concerned that this conversation will get back to him, or that I couldn’t be objective, I give you my word that if you want this to be a private conversation, then it will be.” I paused, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “Unless you and I agree otherwise.”
She cocked her head and considered me. The waitress delivered her coffee, and she took her time stirring in a healthy portion of milk and three packets of sugar.
“Didn’t you get the memo? About sugar?” I said, in an attempt to ease the tension. “I thought you guys had to take an oath over at VTF to live on nuts and twigs. Sugar is the bad guy, right?”
She laughed. “I just help make the stuff, I don’t drink it.”
Finally, we were getting somewhere. “So why am I here?” I smiled and stabbed a green grape, wilting before my eyes.
“I heard about that guy that died. Everyone’s talking about it.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I even saw a video his roommate posted on Facebook saying drinking VTF might have killed him. And Seth hasn’t been in the office since you left. No one knows where he is. Has he been arrested?”
Facebook? The line between journalism and self-reported media just kept getting narrower. “If you’re worried about your job, I don’t have any information about Seth and his plans, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I said. “As far as I know, there’ve been no charges against anyone. Regardless of the roommate’s accusations, it’s far too early to draw any conclusions. I would expect status quo for the near future. Martin appears to have the plant working at high capacity. Don’t worry just yet.”
It sounded hollow, even to my own ears; of course she’d be worried. I could only imagine what the rumor mill at the plant was breeding. In the absence of information, crazy theories typically occupied far too much air time.
“Is it true? Did he die because of our drink?” Olivia looked at me. I saw fear in her eyes and heard it in her voice.
“No one can answer that right now. But I’m sure that CPD is going to do everything it can to find out,” I said, hoping to help calm her anxiety. News had traveled fast and if people were already jumping to conclusions on the cause of death, then Martin had a potential morale issue on his hands and Seth, a PR issue that would need more than a boilerplate press release.
I’d certainly gone down the who’s-to-blame path, but then again, I knew about Kelly Cavanaugh and Lane.
Olivia stared off at the street traffic outside lost in thought, but didn’t seem calmed by my words. I made a quick decision to see if she’d trust me enough to answer a few of my questions.
“From what I saw in the plant, the bottles are sealed with a plastic wrap before they leave your facility. Correct?”
She turned back to me and fiddled with her coffee spoon. “Yes, right before they’re put in the cases. If they’ve been tampered with, that plastic wrapper would be missing. If that’s where you’re going?”
I nodded. “What about spoilage? Are there inspectors that come in periodically, you know like in a restaurant?” I made a note to myself to check into the food safety regulations.
“Sure, but we only see them maybe once a year. The government is not exactly a precision machine. Bottles and caps are sterilized, we’ve got this super complex water filtration system. I can’t imagine any bugs getting into the stuff.”
“Based on what you know, is there any reason for anyone to question the safety of the product? Even if it were unintended.” I was thinking of Cavanaugh. He would have been her boss prior to Martin.
She hesitated, twisting a leather bracelet strung with a charm on her wrist. “You sure this is confidential? If this gets back to Seth or to Martin, they’re going to know it was me.”
“Olivia, if you know something, please, you need to tell me. We don’t know if this young man died because of anything VTF did, but if you hold back and someone else gets ill, we have a bigger issue on our hands.” I felt bad laying on the guilt, but the truth was painful.
She took another drink of coffee and stared out the window again, trying to make up her mind. “I don’t know this means anything, but we have a couple new vendors for the botanicals. Vendors that aren’t top tier. Orders have been coming in so fast that we’re having trouble keeping up. I think we’ve cut some corners trying to get product out.”
“Seth told me that a few months back there’d been a batch that had to be recalled. Was that related to a new vendor?”
“A recall? I don’t know anything about that. We’ve been working three shifts. Trying to keep up with the orders and it still isn’t enough. Raw materials are disorganized, some of the vendors are unproven. I don’t even know if we’ve been following the cleaning protocol. Cleaning these machines takes them off-line for 12 hours. I haven’t seen them go down more than once in the last six months. We don’t have the time. I love this job, but if we’re making people sick, there isn’t going to be a job.”
“Sounds pretty chaotic. Given the production demands, are you saying that things just got sloppy? Or are you suggesting that maybe a supplier didn’t send what you ordered?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just saying it’s possible that a mistake was made.”
“You’ve worked at VTF for a couple of years, were you ar
ound while Cavanaugh ran the department?”
“Yeah, what are you getting at?” She was suddenly wary again.
“Well, he’s had a rough year. His daughter died. That’s a lot to go through and I can’t help but wonder how that might have affected his work.” I hated to ask the question but there was no way around it.
She looked at me and shook her head. “Don’t go there. Luke’s a good guy. I’m not going to trash him. I’m only talking to you because I don’t think Martin will. Reality is we just can’t keep up with production. We’ve gotten sloppy and Martin will be the scapegoat for all of this, if it hits the fan.”
“No. Of course. I’m not suggesting Luke did anything intentionally,” I said, lowering my voice and softening my eyes. And hoping my compassion for the for the man’s situation was clear. “But no one thinks clearly when they’re experiencing such grief. He suffered a tremendous loss. It’s understandable that he would have been distracted. I’m just wondering if you saw anything that gave you reason to believe he wasn’t at the top of his game.”
She seemed to relax a little, picking up an empty sugar packet and folding it accordion style.
“Luke was pretty much a mess most of this year,” she said. “It started in the summer, June I think. He and Seth had a couple of major blowups. Like I told you, we were having a hard time keeping up with production and everybody was tense. It only got worse after Kelly died.”
“Do you know what their arguments were about?” My ears perked up.
“Not directly. But there were rumors about Seth and Kelly,” she said, looking up over her coffee.
“About them dating?” So it wasn’t just Cavanaugh that thought the relationship was romantic. Was it appearance or reality?
She nodded. “I don’t imagine Luke thought much of a man nearly his age dating his daughter. Can’t blame him. Pretty creepy to me too.” She scrunched her nose. “I don’t know if that was the problem or if they were blaming each other for production fuck ups. Maybe both.” She shrugged and folded the sugar packet in the opposite direction.