“Not sure. Maybe Brian Silver. He’s in charge of several labs. Comes in on weekends.”
Brandon wasn’t sure if that mattered, but he didn’t like the way the man was tugging Caroline toward the door. At least she was dragging her feet to slow him down.
“Where does that door go?”
“There’s a narrow hallway and then an outside door. The space was designed in case people need to leave quickly.”
“How do I get there?”
“If I were you, I’d get outside and hustle around the building.”
“Can you call the police?”
“Sure.” She moved to pick up the phone. “Better hurry. They’re almost to the end of the lab. There aren’t cameras in the back hallway.”
“Keep an eye on them as long as you can.” He turned and ran toward the door. As he opened the glass door, he watched the guard set down the phone, and he frowned. There was no way she’d placed a 911 call and hung up. He tugged his phone free from his pocket and dialed 911 as he bolted around the building. The complex covered what looked like an acre or two. He sprinted around the edge without getting winded as he watched for an exit. Had the guard sent him in the right direction?
There was no way to know other than to keep running as the June heat and humidity pressed against him. It might be morning, but it was already a blazing hot day. That didn’t stall his arms as he pumped his way around.
He heard a voice squawking at him, but he couldn’t sprint and talk, so he’d have to trust they’d identify his location through the phone. And do it in enough time to help.
If they didn’t, he’d do whatever it took to get Caroline to safety.
* * *
The door banged open as she struggled against Brian’s grasp. The man might spend his days in a lab, but he must spend his nights at the gym because his grip didn’t loosen no matter how she twisted or pulled.
She looked desperately for an escape, half blinded by the transition to bright sunlight. They were at the back of Praecursoria in an area that backed to a tree line and was hidden from the roads. Even if Brandon watched the front of the building, all Brian had to do was drag her to the trees, shoot her, and flee. By the time Brandon searched for her, it would be over.
But if she could get away . . . She could use those same trees for cover.
If that didn’t work, there was a collection of trash cans and hazardous-waste containers she could run through.
She heard the sound of something pounding against the pavement.
Could it be Brandon?
Brian froze as if he heard it too, and his gaze shifted to the left.
This was her chance.
She jerked her arm with all the force she could muster and took off to the right. She dashed behind a dumpster.
“I see you.” Brian’s voice vibrated with anger, but she didn’t stop.
She had to keep moving.
He would shoot her the moment he could, and she didn’t want to learn whether he was a good shot. She pulled her phone out long enough to click the emergency button and then slid it back into her pocket. That would have to be enough to get help.
* * *
Brandon raced around a corner and into a man. In the glimpse he had, the man looked like Caroline’s colleague from the restaurant. He tackled him with the best form of his life.
The man landed on the ground with an oomph, but he held on to the gun.
Metal glinted in the sunlight.
Brandon braced even as he rolled his weight toward the man’s arm.
He had to get the gun dislodged.
Before Caroline was hurt.
He wanted to search for her but couldn’t. Not while this man was free.
Sirens came closer, and the man thrust his hips. Brandon pushed back, pressing the man against the concrete.
Then he banged the man’s arm against the driveway.
The gun slid free and the man howled.
“Hands up.” A police officer came into view, gun clasped in his outstretched hands.
“If I get up, he’ll take off. I’m the one who called 911. You can check my phone.”
“Get him off of me, Officer.” The man’s voice vibrated with rage. “I want to press charges for assault.”
“That’s his gun over by the dumpster. I never touched it, so it should have his fingerprints.” Then Brandon noted the latex gloves he was wearing. “Why are you wearing gloves? Trying to create deniability for the gun? What did you do to Caroline?”
The police officer’s gaze bounced between the two as his radio squawked. He hit a button on it and turned to his shoulder to speak into it without shifting his gaze. “Two men in back. Backup requested.” Then he returned his second hand to the gun. “Neither one of you move. My partner will be here in a moment.”
“He’s crushing me.”
Brandon rolled his eyes but didn’t move. No way he was letting this guy up until the police arrived and he could make sure Caroline was safe.
Where was she?
* * *
Caroline moved from one dumpster to another until she reached the trees.
There was a loud clatter, like someone throwing a body into a trash can. She wanted to look and see who it was but didn’t dare. She had to keep moving.
Easing through the trees.
Looking for safety.
All alone.
She heard a voice calling her name and she collapsed.
“Caroline.” The word was desperate.
“Brandon.” She could barely whisper his name. What if Brian had gained the upper hand and was making Brandon say her name? She had to stay safe. She would stay safe. She was a thirty-year-old woman, no longer left to cower in a closet that she locked from the inside. She was strong and she could get to safety.
She heard sirens, but still she moved.
A voice filtered through her focus.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
She pulled her phone free. Continued to listen.
“Police have arrived at your location. Are you safe? Can you tell me where you are so I can direct them to you?”
Caroline lifted the phone to her ear and whispered, “I’m in the trees. Behind the building. There’s a man with red hair. He’s wearing jeans and a sports jacket and carrying a gun. There’s also a large man, looks like a football player because he was one, wearing cargo shorts and a Colts T-shirt. He’s with me.”
“Stay on the line while I relay this information.” For minutes the calm, detached female voice told her what was happening. Then she told Caroline it was safe to step from the trees.
The first thing she saw was Brandon standing with his hands on his hips, scanning the tree line, worry lines etched on his face, with two police officers nearby.
She waved and he started walking toward her. She ran to him and collapsed into his arms.
As he hugged her close and stroked her hair, she knew she was safe. The trembles eased as the adrenaline leached from her.
She had come home.
Chapter 40
By the time Emilie arrived at Praecursoria, the police were done taking Caroline’s statement. Emilie stood next to her Mini Cooper, sunglasses on and watching, as she waited for Caroline.
Caroline couldn’t give them conclusive proof that Brian had been behind the wheel of the vehicle that hit Justin, but she hoped it was enough to turn the investigation his direction. She also wasn’t sure he’d said enough to connect him to Sarah’s death, but it was up to the police to do that. They had him for kidnapping and attempted murder on her. Add in hitting Anna’s car, and that was a start.
“You didn’t need to call Emilie.” Brandon studied her with concern.
“I know, but you need to get to Bethany’s doctor and tell him what happened. Maybe he can give her the right CAR T cells and counteract the wrong treatment. Maybe it’s not too late.”
“Would you make the call? I’m not sure how to explain it all.”
Caroline nodded. “Th
en go be present with your aunt.” She placed a hand alongside his face and then reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “The funeral’s tomorrow and she needs you.” She stepped back and smiled at him. “I’m going home after I call the hospital to figure out what I’m going to tell Quentin.”
The front door opened and the police led out the security guard. Not calling the police probably wasn’t a crime, but if she’d been cooperating with Brian, then the woman was an accessory to attempted murder.
Caroline gave Brandon another hug, one she never wanted to end. “Thank you for being here.” She shivered at the reality of how different it could have turned out if he’d let her come alone. “You were right that I needed backup.”
He eased back and met her gaze. “I almost lost you today. Don’t ever do that again.”
“I don’t plan to.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “I need to go.” As soon as she climbed into Emilie’s car, Caroline pulled out her phone. “I’ve got to make a call.”
She needed to alert the right people that Bethany was in transplant rejection. She called Quentin and left a message before calling the hospital. It took the drive back to her apartment to get through to Dr. Hamilton.
“I was able to confirm that Bethany Anderson is receiving the wrong CAR T cells. They aren’t hers, but a transplant from a donor.”
The doctor inhaled. “Okay. Then the treatment for graft-versus-host disease has been the right course.” He paused. “That also explains why it’s helping.”
“Yes, I think Bethany’s body has been attacking the transplanted cells.”
“I’ll need more information on what she’s receiving but will up the course of treatment we’re on. Now we can combat it. Good news is we already used the chemotherapy to destroy her white blood cells, but if the donor cells aren’t a match . . .” His words dropped off.
“Understood. I’m the attorney, not a doctor, so I’ll have someone contact you.” Caroline’s thoughts rushed. Who should she have call the Doogie Howser back? Maybe Lori or Tod. “Can I have a direct number, and I’ll have one of my colleagues in the lab call you back ASAP?”
After taking it down, she called Lori on the number in her personnel file and brought her up to speed. The woman agreed to call the physician immediately and provide whatever Bethany’s medical team needed.
“Thank you.” Caroline swallowed back the emotion that was rising inside. “We’ll also need to start an audit to confirm whether Brian did similar things with the other patients’ treatments in Phase 1. We have to know today how big the issue is.”
“On it. I’ll get a team in to scrub through everything in the next few hours.”
“Good.” Caroline sighed as she felt the reality of everything she’d dealt with collide inside her. “I can come back once I have my car.”
“I’ll let you know. We may be able to handle it via phone.”
“Maybe.” Getting this right and saving Bethany was too important to the survival of their patients and the company to play it safe at home.
Emilie pulled in front of Caroline’s apartment building. “You’ll be okay.”
Caroline smiled at the statement as she slid the phone into her purse. “Yeah, I will.” She leaned over and squeezed Emilie. “Thanks for showing up on short notice.”
“Of course. That’s what heart sisters are for.”
“I’m grateful.”
“Now go help that girl and make sure no one else is hurt. In the process you might save Praecursoria.”
“I’m going to give it my all.” Caroline climbed from the car and felt the weight of responsibility.
This was why she was at Praecursoria.
* * *
Monday, June 7
Anna’s funeral was a quiet affair. She was well loved, but her circle of friends and family was small. Moving so many times in her life had contributed to that. Brandon wished more people were here to support Aunt Jody. Fortunately, Uncle Clint had made it back from his training mission, so she didn’t sit alone with the infant carrier next to her.
Little Jilly had been released from the hospital, seemingly no worse for her early birth. Brandon could thank God for that even as he wondered why God hadn’t prevented the accident. He could have but hadn’t, so Brandon had to surrender and accept the lack of answer and understanding.
The pastor did a good job trying to extend hope in a tragic situation. Anna’s college roommate had them all laughing as she told how Anna collected a group to fork a friend’s yard. Then Aunt Jody talked about how excited Anna had been when she learned she was a mother and how proud she’d been watching Anna persevere through the grief of losing her husband.
Through it all there was a thread of hope, gossamer thin but present.
When the service ended and the people stood and made their way down the center aisle, Brandon waited. For what, he wasn’t sure.
Then he felt a small hand on his shoulder and turned.
Caroline stood in the row behind him. “You okay?”
“As okay as I can be when this feels wrong.”
She nodded, then sank onto the chair next to him, lending him her presence.
Uncle Clint helped Aunt Jody to her feet, then she grabbed the baby carrier and started down the aisle. Caroline waited until they’d passed. “Are those Anna’s parents?”
“Yes. Uncle Clint was whisked back by the army late last night.”
Caroline gave him a pointed look. “How are things with them?”
Brandon let a slight smile cross his face. “You know, Aunt Jody and I had an interesting conversation last night. She explained how she tried to find Trevor and me, but the system blocked her. Wasn’t expecting that to come up last night of all nights. I’ve forgiven them, though it feels prideful to say that.”
“No, that’s a big step. You needed help, and it’s natural to want it to come from family. I’m proud of you.” Her words soaked into the soil of his heart. “How can I help now?”
He wasn’t sure how to answer. “Pray for them.”
“Always. Praying for you too.”
A man came up behind her. “Ready, Caroline? I need to get back to work.”
She barely spared her boss a look. “Sure.”
Brandon extended his hand to Quentin. “Thanks for coming today.”
“She was a special woman and I’ll miss her.” The man nodded, then headed down the aisle.
Caroline stood in an elegant motion, all Audrey Hepburn grace. “Are you staying for the lunch?”
“I need to be here for them.”
“Then I’ll call tonight.”
He stood and pulled her into a hug. Once she was in his arms, he didn’t want to let go. “Thanks for coming.”
“Always.”
* * *
Quentin cleared his throat, and Caroline shot him a “what are you thinking?” stare. Though Anna was a colleague, the man was blind to the grief others showed for her death. It was like he needed to thrust grief far away. Made her wonder why he’d come.
“Talk to you soon.” She forced herself from the comfortable circle of Brandon’s arms.
Quentin was already halfway down the aisle and toward the sanctuary doors. He stopped to murmur something in the ear of Brandon’s aunt, words Caroline only got a hint of as she caught up.
“Good will come of this.” Then he straightened and headed through the doors.
Caroline turned back to Brandon. “If there’s anything I can do . . .” The words felt empty on her tongue. This was exactly why she hated funerals.
Caroline stepped into the sunshine that felt out of place on this day. “That was hard.”
Quentin swallowed as he clicked his key fob. “We have to get back to Praecursoria. Somehow we have to salvage the disaster Silver created.”
He slid into his seat and started the car while Caroline climbed in. After strapping on her seat belt, she looked out the window and spotted Brandon standing at the top of the steps, his hands shoved in the pockets o
f his khaki pants. He lifted his hand in a small wave, then turned and went back inside.
She shifted to glance at Quentin. “What did you mean when you said good would come from this?”
“Why?” He kept his gaze locked on the road but started tapping the steering wheel with his thumbs.
“It’s an odd thing to say to a grieving mother at a funeral.” Though it was probably better than her awkward silence and hug.
“There’s nothing easy to say.” He sighed as he pulled into the parking lot. “Look, I’m still trying to understand why Brian did this to me. We’ve been friends a long time—at least I thought we were. But what you say he’s done? It’s created bigger issues to focus on. Let’s figure out how to save the company.” He wiped his forehead, then parked. “Meeting in my office in ten minutes.”
“All right.” They separated at the door, and Caroline hurried to her office. It wouldn’t be easy figuring out how to untangle the mess Brian had created, but she’d start with a call to Lori.
As she waited for Lori to pick up, she glanced around her office. She really needed to bring in something like plants or wall hangings that would make it feel like more than an institutional box.
“Lori here.”
“Good morning. This is Caroline and I’m headed into a leadership meeting in ten minutes. Can you update me on what you learned about Patrick Robbins and the trial?”
“We’ve type tested each of the trial patients’ CAR T cells. About half don’t match their own. I know we engineered all their cells though. Best I can figure out, Brian mass-produced Patrick’s cells and sent those to half the Phase 1 trial recipients.”
Caroline inhaled sharply. “And we haven’t heard about any adverse reactions from the other patients?”
“Brian was having the calls directed to him, I’m assuming so he could manipulate the data. At the time I thought it was a little odd, but we were swamped from Sarah’s death. Then Justin died, and Tod and I were trying to stay above water.”
“Can you get me the contact information for the other patients?”
“I can do you one better. We’ve already started contacting their overseeing physicians. Right now, I’m telling them there’s a chance the patients have the wrong cells and couriering the right CAR T cells to them.”
Lethal Intent Page 29