Lethal Intent

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Lethal Intent Page 17

by Cara C. Putman


  Emilie moved on, and Brandon put a hand on Reid’s shoulder to keep him from following her. “Quick question.”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you think I could sell the Porsche?”

  Reid cocked his head and studied Brandon. “Why?”

  “I might need to get creative to keep a couple of my house parents around. You know my funds are tied up. Thought liquidating it might get me some quick cash. It’s just sitting in the garage.”

  “You love that car.”

  “But I love these kids more. If selling it will help me keep a key couple here, then it’s worth exploring.”

  “I can do some checking this week.”

  “Thanks.” One of the boys lobbed a ball at Brandon’s head, but he grabbed it easily. “Excuse me.” He waggled his eyebrows at Zeke. “I’m coming for you.”

  The passel of boys squealed and scattered.

  Soon he was sweaty from romping with the boys, and Brandon called a time-out. The others had arrived to help. David Evans set up several yard games while his wife, Ciara, held toddler Amber and suggested how to set them up. Brandon could easily imagine Caroline doing the same someday. It was an image he liked. A lot.

  As his gaze drifted to Caroline, he clearly saw her holding a child.

  Their child.

  He blinked away the image, and Caroline smiled at him.

  “Did the Walkers come?”

  “Yep. Gave them a tour and now they’re helping get the food prepped in the kitchen.”

  “I hope that means Nicole will help you find people who can volunteer here.”

  “It sounds like she and her husband have a real interest in our work.”

  “That’s great.” Caroline held up her hand for a high five, when he wanted to pull her in for a kiss. “There was something special about meeting her Saturday. Like I was in the right place at the right time.”

  “Maybe.” Brandon lowered his hand. “Did she tell you her husband’s a state legislator?”

  “No.” Wrinkles appeared across her forehead as she considered his question. “That’s good. Now he can tell others how important the work is that you and other group homes do.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  “What’s the other?”

  “That he’ll decide there’s need for a new, more restrictive law before we’ve figured out the last one.”

  “That’s certainly looking at the silver lining.” Caroline handed him a large picnic hamper. “We need to deposit the cupcakes before they melt out here.” Then she took his free hand and led him toward the lodge.

  He could read her mind as if she’d spoken the words out loud.

  * * *

  Caroline had wanted a longer conversation with the Walkers, but before she could talk with them at length, a couple of the boys found her and grabbed her hands to tug her back outside. With an apologetic glance over her shoulder, she laughingly let the boys take her toward one of the games. She quickly proved how terrible she was at cornhole. Brock laughed as one of his beanbags knocked hers off the board before his slid into the hole.

  His fist pump was worth the reality she would lose another game.

  It was worth it to watch the kids abandon themselves to a good time.

  Then Brandon was calling everyone together, and kids and adults meandered to the grill and shelter. After a quick prayer of thanks for the food, Brandon released the littlest kids first. Caroline jumped in to help fill plates for a couple of girls who would have filled their plates with cookies and chips if she hadn’t guided them to hot dogs and fruit. While hot dogs weren’t health food, they were better than sugar-loaded carbs. Once the girls were settled on a blanket on the ground, she returned to the back of the line to get a plate of food for herself.

  Ciara was balancing Amber on her hip. The two-year-old’s blonde hair curled around her face, making her look angelic even as she rubbed her eyes.

  “Would you like me to take her so you can get food?” Caroline held out her hands to the little girl, who burrowed more deeply into Ciara’s shoulder.

  “That would be great, but she’s decided she’s a one-adult toddler today, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Ciara brushed a fly from her daughter’s cheek. “How are you enjoying your job?”

  Caroline glanced around, but Brandon was talking with Jeff at the grill. “It’s good. I love the challenge of the legal work, and the mission of the company is pretty amazing. If half of our products and therapies make it to drugstores and hospitals, I’ll be proud to know I was part.”

  “But?”

  “There’s no but.”

  Ciara picked up a plate with her free hand. “You forget I’ve known you almost eight years. There’s always a but.”

  “Brandon’s an investor in the company. It makes me nervous to talk about work with him. It’s making our conversations stilted.” She scooped homemade mac and cheese out of a large pan onto Ciara’s plate.

  “If your conversations revolve around work, his or yours, then you have a problem. There’s so much more to talk about. The fact you feel cautious about bringing up Praecursoria is good. It’ll force you to talk about the things that really matter.”

  “But I work sixty hours a week.”

  “So does he, if not more.” Ciara gave her the big-sister look she’d perfected ages ago. “But that’s not who you are. Focus on everything else, not your job.”

  Caroline picked up an extra set of silverware and napkins for Ciara and then entered the line. “I guess you’re right.”

  “You know I am.” Ciara glanced down the line. “Now go get your man a glass of lemonade and find something to talk about. Like these amazing kids. Or his dreams.”

  The car was crushed like an accordion.

  He should stop.

  He didn’t want to see.

  Not when he knew the woman trapped inside the vehicle. He’d counted her a friend once upon a time. Now as he looked at the car, he knew there was no way she’d survive.

  The smell of smoke was heavy. Would the vehicle explode? He needed to leave. Escape before people asked questions. Before anyone placed him at the scene.

  Something touched his hand. He flinched.

  Where was he?

  He reached down, felt fur. Felt himself relax as he jolted fully awake.

  He was on his couch, the TV illuminating the wall. That’s right—he fell asleep in the middle of a show, his dog at his feet.

  The accident was yesterday. A nightmare whether he was awake or asleep.

  He hadn’t meant for things to escalate like this.

  Two women were dead or dying because of the research he protected. But the Robbins boy’s cells were worth any cost, especially if they had a HeLa-like component. His only choice was to hold the course.

  That was the easy part.

  He needed more time for the experiments he was running in Mexico to succeed. Then he’d be ready to take Praecursoria out at the knees.

  He should have resisted involving another child so soon, but he couldn’t. When he saw the cells multiplying without end under the microscope, he’d gotten too excited to wait.

  Imagine. Him replicating the work of George Gey, the man who had uncovered the unique aspects of Henrietta Lacks’s cells. The cervical cancer cells were foundational to so many scientific advances, such as the polio vaccine. Those cells had changed the course of medical history and scientific research. Now he had the opportunity to spearhead similarly illustrious achievements.

  He hadn’t done anything to Anna Johnson. She’d driven into that intersection on her own. Hadn’t she? He’d only bumped her, not hard enough to cause that accident.

  He steeled himself. There was no time for regrets.

  Scientific advances required sacrifices. Anna was simply one of them. If he told himself that often enough, he’d believe it. He was too vested to back off now. Whatever it took, he would see this through.

  And if his gut was correct, he’d rewrite history and advance sc
ience in dynamic new ways that mattered for the good of humanity.

  Any cost was worth that.

  Even Anna.

  Chapter 23

  Tuesday, June 1

  Brandon’s morning derailed the moment his phone rang. He scrabbled to find it on the nightstand, then glanced at the screen. It was barely seven o’clock, and his aunt Jody was calling.

  “Hello?”

  “Brandon, you’d better get here. Anna’s been in a terrible accident.” His aunt’s voice shuddered to a stop.

  He wiped his face. “Is she all right?”

  “No. She’s still in critical condition and the doctors aren’t optimistic. I tried to call yesterday . . .”

  “We had a big event at Almost Home. The day got away from me.”

  “Please come. My house is where we are gathered for now. The hospital still isn’t letting people in who aren’t close relatives. Do you know where my house is?”

  He assured her he did and then got ready as fast as he could.

  Anna in a critical accident?

  Why hadn’t he been told sooner? No, that wasn’t right. The real question was why he hadn’t returned the call. It didn’t matter that he’d been so exhausted by the time everyone left that the last thing he’d wanted to do was call Aunt Jody.

  Now, his aunt’s words ricocheted through his mind like a ball let loose in a pinball machine.

  Anna was critical.

  What would happen to Anna’s daughter?

  No matter what had happened in the past, he wanted to be with Anna’s family and tell them to get a good attorney who would make sure that mom and baby were protected.

  It took almost an hour of navigating the congested roads to reach Aunt Jody’s home. The brick exterior was neat with the flower beds exploding with a riot of colorful pansies and other flowers along the sidewalk. A few cars were in the driveway and more lined the road in front of the home. He parked a block away and walked back to the house, dread weighing down his steps.

  A pair of cardinals chittered at each other from adjacent trees, the female blending in with the small leaves. The birdsong should have heralded hope, but it couldn’t cut through his burden.

  When he arrived, he paused at the door, bracing for whatever awaited inside. He knocked, then waited with his hands shoved in his pockets.

  A moment later the door opened, revealing a woman of about sixty. Her face was lightly lined, but shadows purpled the skin under her eyes. “Brandon?”

  “Hi, Jeannette.”

  Aunt Jody’s stepsister had never warmed to him for reasons he didn’t understand. The woman glanced around as if expecting someone to be with him. Then she refocused on him. “Why are you here?”

  “Is Aunt Jody here? She called an hour ago about Anna and said to come.”

  “No, she got called back to the hospital.” The woman stepped onto the small porch and closed the door behind her. “Something about the baby.” There was a weary droop to her shoulders as if she hadn’t been sleeping well.

  “Is there anything I can do?” He hated being in situations like this. Where he carried the fog of helplessness just like when his mom died.

  “No.” The woman swallowed. “I’ll tell Jody you came by.”

  “Can I come in?”

  She sighed and looked down. “You could, but there’s no one here that you know.”

  He didn’t bother to respond. It shouldn’t matter who was there. “What did I do to make you hate me?” He clenched his jaw to prevent saying anything more. Whining never helped.

  “Who said you did anything?” She barely met his gaze before looking away again. “Some things are too complicated and long-standing to change.”

  “Not in my book. As long as we’re both breathing, there’s hope.”

  She inhaled sharply and then shook her head. “This is not the time.”

  He tried to extend grace, but it was hard. “This is like when Mom died.”

  “No, Anna wasn’t sick. She was in a tragic accident.” There was a slight softening around Jeannette’s eyes, as if she was reliving Mom’s slow decline, thanks to cancer. “I’ll let Jody know you were here.” She swallowed as her eyes turned glassy. “Someone will be in touch when we know more.”

  No words of comfort came, so he turned and walked back down the sidewalk and block to his car. He had expected more. Well, not really. But part of him had hoped. He was supposed to be strong. The one who took care of others because someone had to. The world was an incredibly unsafe place, and he was the only one he could count on. Aunt Jody insisted he would understand if he’d just let her explain, but nothing justified leaving a seventeen-year-old to fend for himself, nor letting his eight-year-old brother disappear. Maybe if Trevor showed up, the past and its pain would sink into the background.

  Instead, he lived with the permanent limp of an orphan who struggled to let anyone other than Caroline close.

  Wasn’t his fault, but it was his problem.

  He blinked as he turned the key in the ignition. He needed to get away, but his vision was blurred. A mess. Just like him.

  * * *

  Quentin never returned her call or email.

  Yes, it had been a holiday weekend, but she’d conveyed how much she needed to talk to him about the letter and the high-handed IT move to shut her out of the company’s files.

  Even without the letter, it didn’t take a high level of brilliance to know she faced another pressure-packed week filled with projects like pushing the CAR T-cell therapies through, getting the informed consents right, and triple-checking that the internal procedures minimized risk.

  Caroline had enjoyed the Memorial Day cookout, and she pondered Ciara’s words during her commute. She could do better with Brandon and would.

  By the time she reached the office, she was ready to slay the day. She’d try to head off the potential lawsuit as soon as possible. First order of business: to figure out where the liability lay.

  She bypassed her desk and headed straight to Quentin’s suite. Lillian sat at her desk, headset on and fingers clacking on the keys. Her nose was redder than normal as were her cheeks, likely the result of a Memorial Day weekend spent outside. The younger gal was also wearing all black with heavy black eyeliner as if she were giving the goth look a try for the day. Was that even a thing anymore?

  She barely glanced at Caroline before her gaze returned to her monitor.

  “Quentin in?”

  The younger woman shook her head. “No. He took the morning off.”

  “I need an appointment with him as quickly as possible.”

  “That’ll be next week.”

  “This is about potential litigation.”

  “It’s a short week, so Monday’s the best I can do.” The woman paused and looked at her. “He’s got meetings in the city today and flying up to New York Wednesday.”

  It might be the best Lillian could do, but it wasn’t good enough. “Is he answering email?”

  “When I send it through.” Her tone communicated she could also hold it up.

  That was all right since Quentin had given her an alternate private email her first day. It was for emergencies, and this qualified. She’d email each separately and see if she could land on his priority list. “I’ll shoot him an email and would appreciate it if you could forward it to him. I’m trying to prevent a family from suing us but need more information about the sale of Genetics for You.”

  Lillian frowned. “Is that the part we sold about a year and a half ago?”

  “Yes. Do you have any idea who I should talk to?”

  Lillian rolled her eyes as if Caroline was asking a ridiculous question. “Try Samson. If he’s out for an extended weekend, try Brian Silver. He’s been here even longer than Samson.” She said it as if both were old enough to have seen dinosaurs roam the earth.

  “Thanks.”

  Caroline returned to her office and drafted the email to Quentin. Among her most pressing questions: Did Praecursoria ask the Gen
etics for You buyer to assume liability? She addressed it to both of Quentin’s accounts and had just hit Send when her phone rang.

  Reid Billings? Why would he be calling her? She hoped Emilie was okay.

  “Reid, hi.”

  “Hi, Caroline.”

  “Thanks for your help at the barbecue. The kids enjoyed it.”

  “I think I had more fun than they did.” Reid’s voice turned solemn. “Listen, David just let me know Brandon’s cousin is in critical condition at a local hospital. He asked me to pass the word along to you.”

  “What?” Her heart plummeted. It couldn’t be Anna—surely Brandon had lots of cousins. Many families did. “What happened?”

  “Car accident over the weekend. It’s been touch and go for her and the baby.”

  “Oh no.” It had to be Anna. “Is the baby okay right now?”

  “Sounds like they’ve been able to save her baby so far.”

  Caroline’s shoulders collapsed as air whooshed from her. “I’ll call him.”

  “Thanks.” A phone rang in the background. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this call.”

  A minute later Caroline sat staring at nothing as her heart felt bruised for Brandon. How would the accident impact Anna’s patients? The woman clearly saw medicine as so much more than a job.

  She called Brandon but got no answer, so she sent a text. You okay? Just heard about Anna.

  When he didn’t respond, she went in search of Brian and Samson. Kleme was out as Lillian had guessed.

  She looked for Brian in the lab. Looking through the window in the door, she saw several people moving about the room, doing sciency stuff, but Caroline didn’t see Brian. She rapped on the door and Lori Clark, Brian’s assistant, looked up with an arched eyebrow. She motioned for Lori to come her way, which she reluctantly did. Lori cracked the door. “What do you need?”

  “Have you seen Brian?”

  “Check the break room.”

  “Thanks.”

  When she reached the break room, Brian was seated at a table with a paper and cup of coffee. She made a beeline for him. “Brian, have a minute?”

  He glanced at his watch, then nodded. “A few. How can I help?”

  “Working on a project and need to know more about Genetics for You.”

 

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