“Ready to head out?”
“Sure.” She grabbed her purse. “Where’d you find a drive-in theater?”
“A website. It’ll take a little over an hour to get to. We’ll grab a bite on the way.”
“Aren’t Emilie and Reid coming?” She had that cute little wrinkle across the top of her nose as she considered him.
“They plan to join us at the theater.” He held out his hand. “Ready to start our adventure?”
“Yes.” Her hand felt soft as it settled against his rough one.
When they exited the building she jerked to a stop, then started laughing. “You brought it.”
He grinned as he clicked a button and opened the passenger door for her. “It’s just a Porsche for my princess.”
“Just.” She snorted. “I’ve never even looked at one of these, let alone ridden in one.”
“Tonight it’s your steed.” He didn’t mention that this was probably the last time he’d drive it.
“Here I thought it was a myth you liked to spin.”
The light banter continued as he drove to 66. The miles spun by as they talked and let the silence fall in turns. The amazing thing was it never felt awkward. Just two friends who really enjoyed each other’s company and wanted more.
Caroline leaned her elbow on the window ledge and then her head against her hand as she released a sigh. “This is nice.”
“The car?”
“No.” He caught the faintest smile on her face when he glanced over. “The drive. It’s so easy to get caught in the pressure cooker inside the Beltway. To forget that just a few miles outside of 495 the roads open up, and we can be in the country.”
“Hungry?”
“Sure.”
“Great. There’s a small place coming up that looked like a good option. One of those inns for fancy weddings and events, but it also has a restaurant anyone can enjoy.”
“Sounds fun.”
A minute later he glanced in the rearview mirror before turning on his blinker. He frowned. Hadn’t that car been behind them for miles? Well, it was a country road. After waiting for oncoming traffic to pass, he turned into the gravel parking lot next to an old brick farmhouse that had an updated colonial feel. The long, wide porch would be a great place to wait if the reservation wasn’t ready. He slid into an open slot and then waited with his gaze locked on the rearview mirror. When the car he’d noticed passed the driveway, he felt all kinds of ridiculous.
“You okay?” Caroline’s soft words drew his attention back to what mattered.
“Of course. We’re here.” He flashed her his trademark grin that made ladies swoon, but she didn’t bite.
“What’s wrong?”
“Overreacting. Thought a car was following us. Being hypervigilant I guess.” He gave a slight shrug then opened his door. “It’s been a weird week for both of us. Ready for a good meal?”
Her stomach rumbled as if to answer, and she giggled. “Guess I can’t deny it.”
The interior had a rustic yet elegant feel, indicating the owner had worked hard to hit the right tone to draw diners from DC. The menu was modeled off of what the Founding Fathers would have eaten, on the gamey side. He had to grin as Caroline opted for a salad with shrimp.
“Sticking with what you know?”
She looked past him with a frown, then refocused on him. “Sorry?”
He gestured to the salad the waiter had set in front of her. “A salad?”
“It sounded good. I’m not much for squirrel stew.” She shuddered then picked up her fork, but her gaze drifted back over his shoulder.
“You all right?”
“I guess it’s my turn to be paranoid. What are the odds that someone from Praecursoria would be here tonight?”
“The restaurant was featured on the Virginia Is for Lovers website.” He felt heat rush to his face.
Caroline grinned. “Isn’t that what we’re testing, big guy?” She gestured to the room with her fork. “This is a great place to do it. I’m sure that’s why they’re here.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“Brian Silver. And one of his friends, I guess.” The brunette with him was attractive and attentive. A shadow crossed Caroline’s face as she watched the man. “Brian’s in charge of the lab where Justin worked. Same lab that produced the 463 trial.” She shook her head. “There’s something going on with that trial, but I can’t quite pull the pieces together. I’ve been wondering . . .”
“What?”
Caroline put her fork down and looked him in the eye. “Have you already sold your shares?”
“I’ve told Reid to do it, yes.”
“And you’re committed?”
“You are much more important to me. What’s on your mind? Maybe I can help.”
She shook her head and lowered her voice. “What if Bethany didn’t get her own cells? What if she got someone else’s? It sounds so crazy to say it.”
“What do you mean? Who else is there?”
“I have no—” Caroline blinked. Opened her mouth, then shut it. “Patrick. Patrick Robbins. He responded to the trial so fast. The team has been obsessed with his cells since then. What if they’re using his engineered T cells rather than hers?”
“Wouldn’t that be illegal?”
“Probably, since the trial participants were told they would receive their engineered T cells. It’s definitely unethical.” She straightened her napkin. “I wonder if other patients received the wrong cells. I haven’t heard anything but wouldn’t really know. The only reason I know about Bethany’s challenges is because of you.”
“Why would they use her?”
“I don't know.” Caroline frowned as she considered the question. “Maybe because she has no family to protect her.”
“How do we find out?”
She rubbed her forehead as if to push back tension. “I’m not sure my staff badge will give me access to the labs to poke around, but I can try.”
“You aren’t doing this alone.”
“Yes, I am. Justin probably died because I asked for his help.” Her chin quivered as her fists balled.
“I’m going with you, Caroline. You aren’t the only one who cares about what’s happening to Bethany. Maybe I should alert her caseworker.”
“With what? That I think they aren’t giving her the right protocol? I have no evidence. If she starts asking questions, then we’ll alert whoever’s involved at Praecursoria that we’re suspicious.” She wrapped her arms tight around her stomach. He reached across the table and tugged on her hand. “We’ll find our way through this.”
She swallowed and nodded. “Thank you. I still think you’re crazy to sell those shares though.”
“Crazy for you.”
She smiled and turned the conversation so the rest of the meal had a light feel.
If he hadn’t wanted to keep the movie promise, he’d have settled in for a full four-course meal with dessert and coffee in one of those ridiculous espresso cups he could crush without a thought. Instead, he settled the bill and led Caroline back to his car. But when they reached it, he stared while Caroline groaned.
“Maybe neither of us was being paranoid after all.” Her voice held a slight tremble.
One of the Porsche’s tires was flat, rubber slashed. He placed a hand on her arm. “Go back inside while I call the police.”
“You can do that while I’m here.” She crossed her arms and looked rooted in place.
“Sure, but I need to know you’re comfortable while I see if this was an accident or something more. That car I noticed behind us might have turned around and come back.” Hopefully no permanent damage was done, since that would impact the price he could ask for it.
She paused and met his gaze. “I’ll let Emilie know what happened. They can give us a ride back to DC if needed.”
“We’ll need it. If you’re worried about your colleague, make the calls from the bathroom and wait there. I’ll text when help arrives.”
“All right.” She turned and headed back to the porch.
Brandon waited until she was inside the restaurant before he approached the car. A quick inspection of the vehicle confirmed the damage was limited to the tire, but it had effectively trapped them.
In time, the blinking lights of a sheriff’s vehicle pulled up, and he closed his eyes. So much for a romantic night.
Chapter 37
Caroline tried not to brood as she stared out the window of Reid’s luxury sedan. This was not the right end to a romantic evening. They should be settled under the stars in Brandon’s ridiculous sports car enjoying a movie they knew and loved. Instead, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had followed them. A patron at the restaurant had suggested it was someone jealous of the sweet ride. Caroline had wanted to insist it was just a Porsche and far from the only one in the greater DC area, but she bit her tongue.
The slashing of a tire didn’t rise to the same level as a hit-and-run, but it still unsettled her.
Emilie twisted from the front seat, her blonde hair arranged in easy beach waves around her face as she studied Caroline. “You okay?”
“No.” The word was blunt but honest. Brandon reached across the seat and took her hand. “I’m kind of freaked out.”
Reid watched her a moment in the rearview mirror before returning his gaze to the road. He and Brandon had stayed hypervigilant from opposite sides of the car while the sheriff made a report. “Run us through what you suspect,” Emilie said.
Putting it into words would make it real in a way.
“Praecursoria is developing CAR T-cell therapies, which take a person’s cells and engineer them into ninja fighters that can take out specific cancer-carrying cells like leukemia. The CAR T cells become little superheroes. This is new enough the results can be really great or really awful.” She exhaled. “Right before I started this job, Sarah Hill died. She ran the latest CAR T trial in the lab that was engineering the cells. She was working with a patient named Patrick Robbins, doing pretesting for the trial. I think she found something unique in Patrick’s cells.” She recalled the papers Lori had dropped in the hall. Status of Patient 1’s cells as implanted in Trial CAR T 463 Phase 1 participants. “And I think the current lab team is testing his cells in patients like Bethany. Her body seems to be in all-out rejection, which it shouldn’t be. The magic of CAR T therapy is it uses the patient’s own cells.”
“Which Anna said should minimize the side effects and risk of rejection.” Brandon rubbed his thumb over her hand, the sensation sending little waves of goose bumps up her arm.
“Last week Anna was really bothered about something, but we were still relatively new acquaintances, so while she told me some of her concerns, I didn’t get all of it.”
“Before the car accident,” Brandon added.
“Which ended up killing her. But while she was in intensive care, I received a package she’d sent with a flash drive. I think it was her research, but the flash drive was wiped clean when I left it at work, and then stolen with my purse Wednesday before I could get it to Dr. Ivy to recover the contents.” She turned to Brandon. “Anna had to have someone inside Praecursoria getting her that data. She wouldn’t have had access to all those areas without help.”
“Who do you think it would be?”
“I’m not sure.” She paused to consider. “Justin? It had to be someone in the lab. I’ve tried to talk to Lori and Tod, who worked with Justin, and they were cautious. Lori thinks Sarah’s and Justin’s deaths are connected but wouldn’t say how or why.”
Emilie nodded. “So you’re thinking it’s all connected.”
“Yes.”
“But why would that be reason to murder someone?” Reid pulled into the parking lot at Almost Home.
“Have you heard of HeLa cells?”
Emilie nodded. “They’re the unique cervical cancer cells from a woman named Henrietta Lacks.” Reid glanced at her and she raised a shoulder. “I read the book. They were the first, and maybe only, cells that continuously grow in a lab environment. They’ve become the foundation for vaccines and all kinds of medical research.”
“Yes. Someone at Praecursoria thinks Patrick’s cells have that same potential.” She looked at Brandon. “Remember all the tests Bethany had before she was determined to be a candidate for the therapy? Patrick would have undergone similar tests. What if, in the course of reviewing his results, they determined he had a unique kind of cell or cell activity? If they thought his were like HeLas, it would have unfathomable potential for income. HeLa cells are sold for hundreds of dollars per vial.”
Reid was nodding as he turned off the engine. “So it comes down to money.”
“Yes. And if they could engineer his cells to work as a pseudo CAR T-cell therapy, then it would streamline the process for thousands of patients and create another income stream for Praecursoria that is essentially limitless.” She sighed. “What if it really comes down to greed?”
Brandon opened the car door. “This calls for a pot of coffee.”
As everyone exited the vehicle, Caroline considered what her next steps should be. “Here’s the thing: I have no proof. It’s all a theory.”
“But it’s a good one.” Emilie squeezed her hand as they reached the lodge door. “Reid and I have been there. Sometimes you know something is wrong and have to chase it until you find the why.”
“If I’m right, the proof is at Praecursoria. Tomorrow, as soon as I can, I’m going to the lab.”
They walked through the community space to the pass-through between the kitchen and main room, where Brandon powered up the Keurig. Caroline pulled creamer options from the large fridge.
“Who could help you?” Reid’s voice was filled with concern as Brandon turned from the coffee machine.
“Samson would know what’s going on but doesn’t strike me as approachable. Maybe Brian Silver would be a good one to ask. He’s tried to be helpful and took over the lab after Sarah’s death.” She had a thought, but it wouldn’t rise to the surface, so she shook it off. “Maybe it’s safer not to trust anyone right now. I don’t know who’s behind it, and the last person I asked to help died.”
“Makes sense.” Emilie handed Brandon a mug and coffee pod and then studied Caroline. “But you shouldn’t go alone.”
“It will look suspicious if I show up on a Sunday with an entourage. I need to slip in and out as unobtrusively as possible.” She forced a smile.
“You need backup.” There was a heft to Brandon’s voice that warned he wouldn’t let her go in alone.
“You can drive me and wait in the parking lot. We can even have some kind of signal, like if I don’t text you every ten minutes, you call me. If I don’t answer, you call the police or come get me.”
“I don’t like it.”
“It’s the only way.” As they settled in with coffee, she knew she was right. He’d come to understand that too.
* * *
Sunday, June 6
The next morning she stood in front of her closet wondering what one wore when planning to break into their workplace early on a Sunday morning. She decided to go with a simple skirt and blouse that allowed her to argue she was headed to church. She hadn’t slept well as she formed her plan.
She’d start with her office, in case anyone was watching, then head to the lab. She wasn’t optimistic she’d find evidence for her theories, but she had to try.
Brandon texted when he arrived, and she grabbed her purse and a small attaché bag. She wanted it to look like she was really running in to get something so she could finish work from home before Monday morning. She would use the genetics letter as her excuse. She’d left the file behind Friday night and now had a list of questions she wanted to answer so she could finish the draft she’d circulated at Friday’s meeting. What promises had the company made? And what had those utilizing the service expected?
That would give her a reason to be near a lab since the access to that sort of material was siloe
d. A very thin reason.
She was going to have to move fast. Especially if Brandon texted every ten minutes.
Brandon’s posture was tense as he sat behind the wheel of his truck.
“You okay?”
“Not excited about you going in there alone.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I get it.” If he only understood how much. “I have to see what I can find. Maybe Bethany really does have her cells and the therapy isn’t working for her. That’s why this is a trial. But I think there’s more.” She blew out slowly. “What if I’m at Praecursoria in part to protect her? This company is doing so much good. It can help save lives, but that doesn’t mean even one should be harmed in the process.”
He pulled out of his parking slot. “I hear you, but I will text every ten minutes. If you don’t respond, I’ll send in the cavalry.”
“Thank you. I don’t love going in by myself, but I doubt I could get you past security.” She nudged his arm. “You’re not exactly a sneakable size.”
That seemed to reach through his tension, because he shook his head with a small smile. “That’s true. I’m hard to miss.”
After twenty minutes he pulled into the Praecursoria lot and to the parking space closest to the front door. “Tell me your plan.”
“I’ll get through security with a quick scan, then head to my office. Build the illusion I’m grabbing a file to work on from home this afternoon. Then I’ll slide over to the CAR T lab. There’s a computer station in an alcove designed to let people get data without suiting up, and I’ll try to log in through that.”
“Using your log-in?”
“Yep.”
“They’ll know it’s you.”
“I don’t have another option. That’s why I’m trying this on a Sunday morning when no one should be around. It’ll be a lot easier to slip in and out than to try tomorrow.” She met his gaze. “You keep texting, and I’ll be back as fast as I can. Bethany deserves a fast answer. So does Anna.”
Lethal Intent Page 27