Blood Loss (36 page)

‘Jesus,’ said Ren.

‘This action group I was listening to is pushing for new legislation: that all clinical trial data, positive and negative, is available to the FDA and to the public, that more research is carried out on polypharmacy, that placebos are used in blind drug trials, etc., etc. And, with Mark Whaley’s evidence, MeesterBrandt would have been the poster child for all that was wrong in the industry. And there was no doubt it would have gone under.

‘I liked Mark Whaley a lot,’ said Collier. ‘He was a very modest man. He described himself to me as a “forty percenter” – it was an expression he and his family used: there are people out there who earn their degree or their post-grad by coming top of their class. But, you can still get a degree by scraping forty percent. So, if you’re in the hospital, for example, you want to hope that the doctor treating you isn’t a “forty percenter”.’

‘That’s a great expression,’ said Ren.

‘Mark Whaley told me he was a forty percenter. He told me that CFO was a great title, but ultimately, he wouldn’t describe himself as top of the class. It made him miss a few tricks over the years, but it also meant that Nolan Carr and Jonathan Meester underestimated him. He took a course in forensic accounting, on line. He used his wife’s home computer. He tracked down people who had worked for Lang in the past. This was a methodical project. He told me he treated it like a dissertation, and put more effort into it than anything he ever had done before. The wheels fell off when he got suspicious that they were on to him … you know the rest.’

‘Your party is not exactly known to shun big pharma dollars,’ said Ren. ‘Why the change of heart?’

‘Life,’ said Collier, ‘old age, a doctor trying to medicate my beautiful five-year-old grandson who lashed out because he was bullied for not being white …’ He paused. ‘My businesses are successful. But I don’t suffer from greed. That’s a disease I don’t have. From what I know, it appears to be an incurable one. I don’t need anyone’s money at this stage of my life. I need peace of mind.’

Ren walked back into the office. Colin, Robbie, and Cliff were huddled in a group in the middle of the floor. Cliff had a hand on Colin’s shoulder, and was leaning into him. They were laughing.

‘I’m telling Colin the rules of the game,’ said Cliff.

‘What game?’ said Ren.

Gary walked into the room. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘What’s going on here?’

‘Laughter,’ said Ren.

‘Colin’s got some news,’ said Robbie.

Colin locked eyes with Ren as Cliff delivered the news: ‘Colin and Naomi are getting married.’

Oh. Wow. Way to hang on to your errant girlfriend.

Gary strode toward him. ‘Congratulations,’ he said, shaking Colin’s hand, patting him on the back.

‘Yes,’ said Ren.
That’s all I’ve got.
‘When?’
And that’s an extra effort.

‘We haven’t set a date,’ said Colin.

‘How did you propose?’
That’s better.

‘Over dinner last night,’ said Colin.

‘Down on one knee?’ said Gary, smiling.

‘The whole nine,’ said Cliff.

‘Well, I’m happy for you both,’ said Gary. ‘She’s a good woman.’

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘Congratulations.’ She walked over to Colin, and gave him a brief hug. ‘She
is
a good woman.’

But a bad, bad girl.

Ren sat at her desk, and pulled her keyboard toward her. She wrote an email to Matt.

Subject: PsychoSis(ter)

Dear Matt

I, Orenda Bryce, solemnly ask you to solemnly swear, that if I ever have a psychotic episode, that you will allow the administration of antipsychotics only as a last resort, and if necessary, in the lowest dose possible, for the shortest time possible. Please find me a non-drugs-company-sponsored psychiatrist (I’m tentatively saying Dr Leonard Lone) who will treat my potential psychosis as a short-term blip in an otherwise flawless psychiatric history, and who will treat me with the proven group-therapy-style approach (see attached article). I hereby authorize you, the rest of the family/Gary/Janine/and Misty to take part.

Regards,

Orenda Bryce

Re: PsychoSis(ter)

Dear Ren

Who will I forward this to in case you murder me during aforementioned psychotic episode?

Re: PsychoSis(ter)

Dear Matt

No one. TRUST NO ONE.

Re: PsychoSis(ter)

Dear Ren

Then, say hi to Nurse Ratched …

I’ll be back to haunt you. She’ll never believe the visions are real.

Re: PsychoSis(ter)

Dear Matt

You are sick.

Re: PsychoSis(ter)

Your nephew is crying.

Re: PsychoSis(ter)

Because he misses me. Give him giant hugs. XXXX

Ren looked around. Cliff and Robbie had left for Gaffney’s. Colin had gone into the hallway to take a call. Gary had gone to his office to grab his coat. He stuck his head back in.

‘Are you joining us for the celebration, Ren?’

‘I don’t know …’ said Ren.

Gary walked over. ‘How are you doing?’

‘I’m good …’ said Ren. ‘Just … this case …’ She shook her head.

Colin walked back into the office while she was talking.

‘Cameron Temple may or may not have ended up being a rapist,’ said Ren. ‘We’ll never know. But that first drawing definitely shows that he saw, or he was told, that his only options were hospital or drugs. You should read the questions on the trial. How can anyone expect a teenage boy to know the difference between regular teenage angst or anger, whatever, and actual psychosis?’ said Ren. ‘His face will be everywhere, and all people will see is a rapist. He could have been a famous artist or sculptor, or … anything. We’ll never know.’

Gary nodded. He zipped up his jacket. ‘OK, Ren – time to give yourself a break. I’ll see you in Gaffney’s.’

‘Is that an order?’ said Ren.

‘I don’t think anyone needs to order you to a bar,’ said Gary.

Ren smiled.

Gary left.

Colin was shutting down his computer.

‘You’re obsessed with analyzing people, and relationships, and all kinds of other people’s business,’ said Colin.

Eh, hello?
‘So you keep saying,’ said Ren. ‘Probably because it makes you deeply uncomfortable on a personal level.’

‘I could care less,’ said Colin.

‘You
think
you could care less,’ said Ren.

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’ said Colin.

Back away. Back away. Actually, no. Don’t back away. Do it. Now.

‘You’ve always been freaked out by me analyzing people’s personality or motives, or whatever. And now I know why.’

‘I’m not freaked out. I told you. I could care less.’

‘Yeah, I get it,’ said Ren. ‘I get it. But it’s not true.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ said Colin.

Ren stared at him
. I have spent three years giving you the benefit of the doubt. I’ve wasted time feeling sorry for you …

‘Not any more,’ said Ren.

‘What do you mean “not any more”?’ said Colin. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Nothing,’ said Ren. She got up, and grabbed her bag. ‘I’m going home.’

‘Wait,’ said Colin. ‘What the hell is going on here?’

‘Nothing,’ said Ren. She walked down the hallway, and started to jog down the steps.

Colin followed her down. ‘Wait up, for Christ’s sake. What’s your point?’

Ren spun around. ‘I know what you did to get this job,’ she said.

‘What?’ He started to walk past her. ‘The shit you talk.’

Ren grabbed his arm. ‘Don’t fucking walk away from me—’

Colin froze. Ren didn’t let go.

‘You fucked that man’s entire life up,’ said Ren.

‘What man?’ said Colin.

‘Taber Grace, you asshole! Taber Grace.’

‘What?’ said Colin. ‘I replaced a loser who got fired.’ He pulled away from Ren’s grip. ‘I was second in line for the job, so … obviously, I was the one who would take his place.’ He started to walk away again.

‘You
got
him fired,’ said Ren. ‘Quit the fucking bullshit, Colin. When I tell you I know what you did, that means I fucking know, OK? It doesn’t mean I’m guessing, or I’ve got a sneaking fucking suspicion, it means I know.’

Colin was staring at her.

‘You set him up,’ said Ren.

‘You’re insane,’ said Colin. ‘You are nuts.’

‘You sent an email to Gary that showed Taber Grace had lied about some piddling little misdemeanor from his teens about a fire that one of his friends had set, but that he ended up getting sucked into and being in court about – nothing of consequence when you look at it. You knew that Gary Dettling particularly hates lies and you emailed him the information.
Anonymously
. I found it in Taber Grace’s personnel file.’

Oh my God. Not a flicker.

‘You used a BellSouth account with the user name “colonel”. Like your car. Delusions of grandeur there too.’ Ren’s heart started to pound. ‘Didn’t you?’ she said. ‘You hacked into his home computer and you used personal emails to his old buddies to set him up.’

‘Why would I have to do that?’ said Colin. ‘I graduated top of my class, I could have had a job anywhere in the entire country. Why would I be so desperate to—’

‘You didn’t get this job, though, did you?’ said Ren. ‘You failed your first big interview after the academy. You followed a Denver woman all the way here, proposed and everything, assuming, because you’re an arrogant prick, that you’d get this job. But she dumped you, no doubt realizing that you were an arrogant prick, and then, to add insult to injury, you didn’t get the job. Making you a double loser.’

Colin’s eyes were lit with anger.

‘And you don’t like being a loser,’ said Ren. ‘Everything is about winning with you, isn’t it? And being seen to win. Here’s Colin Grabien graduating top of his class, high school, college, the Academy. Oh, and here he is meeting the woman of his dreams, heading to Denver to be the man in a new Violent Crimes Task Force, and … uh-oh, hold on a minute, he’s been dumped, and uh-oh, he didn’t get that job after all. Now what? Who’s Colin Grabien now?’

Colin took a step toward her. Ren stared him down.

‘So, get rid of Taber Grace,’ said Ren, ‘maybe you could step in like a knight in shining armor, show Gary the mistake he’d made not taking you on, well, that would be even better than getting the job in the first place. And, who knows, maybe you’d get the girl back,’ said Ren. ‘But whatever the hell happened, your big move to Denver wouldn’t be such a public humiliation.’

‘I’m not listening to this shit,’ said Colin.

‘Why would you?’ said Ren.

‘Get out of my face,’ said Colin.

‘No.’

‘You’re a fucking nut job,’ said Colin.

‘You’re a sociopath. A textbook fucking sociopath.’

‘You need to read some new textbooks.’ Colin walked out the door, and Ren followed him into the sub-zero night.

‘Stop,’ she said. Her breath caught in the icy air.

Colin kept walking.

‘How can you live with yourself?’ said Ren. ‘You
stole
your job from someone, you ruined his life, his family’s life. And he knew you did it, that’s the worst part. And he didn’t take it any further. He just walked away.’

Colin shrugged.

I want to kill you.
‘I can’t believe you’re not even—’

Colin turned around and stabbed a finger at her as he spoke. ‘You should listen to yourself some time. You are so messed up. You’re in there trying to make sense of a kid who nearly fucking raped you? Are you out of your mind?’

Ren’s heart was pounding. ‘What the—’

Colin stuck his head right up in her face. ‘Ren? You are one crazy motherfucking bitch.’

Ren punched him. The second punch caught his chin, and sent him staggering backwards. The boot slammed against his kneecap brought him to the ground. The sound of his right elbow breaking, and the cry that followed, was drowned out by the slam of the door, as Gary Dettling got out of his car.

Ren stood at the sink in the Safe Streets ladies room running cold water over her hand. Her knuckles were flaming. Her nose was red from the cold, her eyes were streaming. Cliff had driven Colin to the hospital. The official story was that he slipped on the ice. The unofficial story was what Ren was now working on as the water numbed her hand, and the pain of the cold traveled up her arm. Gary was waiting for this story.
For this work of fiction.

Gary hammered on the door. Ren jumped and hit her hand on the faucet.

‘Ren, get out here. Don’t pull the ladies room bullshit. I’m coming in.’

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘Don’t. I’ll be right there.’

She heard him walk away. Huge angry strides.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

She walked down the hallway. Her head felt vaporous. And so did her story.

Which shade of asshole can I paint Colin Grabien that Gary will buy? What could Colin have said to make me snap? What could be worse than the shit Gary has already heard Colin say to me that hasn’t made me snap
? Ren kept walking.
I can’t do the not-telling-of-the-truth. But I have no proof. And Gary is the man who always needs proof. Watertight, black and white proof. That I can’t provide unless I admit sneaking into an old box of personnel files in the creepy haunted basement of Safe Streets.

Ren flexed the fingers of her red right hand.

Gary Dettling sat at his desk, staring at the door. He continued to stare at the door after Ren had sat down in front of him.

Then he fixed his eyes on her. ‘Colin Grabien has offered his resignation.’

What. The. Fuck?

‘Ren, I’m not going to dress this up for you: you are manic. You have been manic for the past month at least.’

There are two coffee stains on this carpet. I hope I’m not responsible for them. I bring coffee in here a lot …

‘Ren!’ said Gary. ‘This can’t go on. You are going to have to go back on medication—’

‘What?’ said Ren.

‘You heard me,’ said Gary.

‘No,’ said Ren, ‘I don’t think I did. You’re telling me, after everything this case brought up—’

‘Ren, you’ve been on mood stabilizers before and they work for you. I’m not asking you to take a drug that hasn’t been trialed or is making people psychotic. I’m asking you to take a drug that has worked for you in the past, and that hasn’t caused you any side effects.’