Death's Door (15 page)

“I know,” Madison told him. “America is so overweight hundreds of people come down with the disease every day. Sadly, many of them are obese children. Your medication helps them lead more normal lives.”

“Yes, well. We’ve developed a number of other things and we’re working on a lot more.” Wyatt gave her an encouraging smile. “I want to make a difference in people’s lives to help suffering. Our company has a program to help the poor get Xeria at a reduced cost.”

Madison had no idea his company was so generous. From what she knew of drug companies, they tried to maximize profits, not caring that the elderly or the poor couldn’t afford lifesaving medications.

“It takes years and megabucks to research and develop a drug,” Garrison said, echoing what his father had said last night.

“It’s easier to show you,” Wyatt said, “than try to explain. Let’s give her the tour.”

Madison was again tempted to remind them that they didn’t have to do all this to convince her to take the test. She wasn’t related to them. Being tested would be a waste of time, but she had already agreed to do it. She just needed to finish here and straighten out her own financial problems. She could manage if her credit cards hadn’t been compromised. She—and Aspen—could live in a residence motel until the mess at her bank was resolved.

She allowed the men to lead her back to the elevator, where they used a special card key to access the fifth floor.

“This is where most of the current research is in the final stages,” Tobias Pennington told her.

Aspen was already on her mind and she asked, “Do you experiment on animals?”

“No,” Wyatt assured her. “We use mice and rats in some tests but most of our testing is done in vitro.” Madison must have had a puzzled look because he explained, “That’s experimenting with test-tube cultures of tissue. We also use computers and simulators.”

“Tests on animals aren’t that reliable,” explained Garrison. “Some drugs have looked promising in primate tests, then hit bottom when humans were tested.”

“The best example is AIDS,” added Tobias, speaking for the first time. “Chimps are very close to man genetically but the AIDS virus doesn’t affect them.”

“Really?” The mention of chimps made her think of Erin and her plan to use the money from her inheritance to help Save the Chimps in Fort Pierce. Madison had discovered many of those chimps had suffered horribly in clinical trials for years before coming to the sanctuary. She planned to visit as soon as possible.

“Even a medication we use almost daily, aspirin, has caused birth defects in the five other species it was tested on,” Wyatt told her. “It costs a billion dollars or more to bring a drug to market. We don’t want any mistakes.”

They arrived at the fifth floor and stepped out of the elevator into a small room with an armed guard and a security camera trained on them. For a second, Madison’s mind strayed to Paul and she wondered if this was part of the security his father provided to Wyatt Holbrook. Everyone, including the Holbrooks, signed the guard’s roster before being shown into an adjacent room.

“There are disposable hazmat suits on the shelves,” Wyatt said. “We put them on over our clothes. Other sections of the building require full hazmat gear and we have special changing rooms, but this is enough to tour the fifth floor.”

Madison left her shoes on a floor rack beside the others and stepped into a green jumpsuit with built-in booties that Garrison had taken from the shelf, shaken out and handed to her. He signaled for her to first put on latex gloves. She stepped into the suit that could easily have fit over a big man like Paul Tanner. Why did she keep thinking about him? What was wrong with her?

She forced herself to watch what the others were doing and slipped a hospital-style cap with a lightweight plastic face mask attached over her hair. It took a moment to adjust the mask so she could see. She followed the men out of the room through a double-wide stainless-steel door with a red biohazard emblem on it. Like cigars in a box, they stood in the small space beyond the locker room.

“The whooshing sound is the bad air being sucked out before we enter the test zone,” Garrison said.

It was more like a wind tunnel sound than a whoosh, she thought. Then the noise stopped and the door directly in front of them automatically opened. They went into a large room with banks of high-tech equipment gleaming on sterile white counters. Winking digital displays indicated the equipment was working on something but it was impossible to tell just what.

“We’re running a test on a germ we’ve heated up,” Wyatt said.

Garrison added, “That means we exposed the germ over and over and over to antibiotics, which forced the rapid evolution of a drug-resistant strain of the germ.”

Madison knew the overuse of antibiotics had created strains of germs that were resistant to them. Her father had been aware of the problem years ago and had argued with Madison’s pediatrician not to prescribe antibiotics for her unless it was absolutely necessary.

“We have a new drug that’s showing great promise,” Tobias told her. “It seems to work on germs that have built a resistance to other drugs.”

“It could be the next step in the continuing evolution of medicine.” Even though the plastic face shields made their features slightly distorted, Madison could see Garrison’s excited smile. “It was my father’s brainchild.”

“Since the Second World War, there has been a distinct wave of discovery,” Wyatt said, “beginning with antibiotics and followed by tranquilizers and hormones. None of these were in use before the war but within ten years had become common. Prior to that there had been many discoveries, of course, but none that impacted the life of the average—”

“Except for aspirin,” Madison interjected without thinking. “Wasn’t it invented about the time of the Civil War? It’s the original wonder drug, right? It reduces pain, breaks fevers and reduces swelling, yet no one can explain exactly how it works.”

“That’s right,” Wyatt said, his approval evident even though she had interrupted him.

“Also, the smallpox vaccine was discovered by Edward Jenner in the nineteenth century,” Madison added.

“Antibiotics have become a victim of their own success. This new drug will change that.” Garrison pointed at a machine. “We’re running the numbers here. Already the results are impressive.”

Madison followed them down the long hall, where they peeked in at several workstations where technicians were performing tests. Madison couldn’t help being impressed. She’d mentally dismissed the Holbrooks because they were wealthy beyond comprehension. She’d assumed Wyatt merely wanted a measure of immortality by having a foundation with his name on it.

Now she could see that this was his life’s work. He seemed to be trying to help others in a way that she hadn’t expected event though she’d known about some of his local philanthropic endeavors. She thought about herself. What good was she doing? How could she be critical of the Holbrooks? At least they were doing something worthwhile.

She’d been headed in a scientific direction, too, when she’d gone to MIT. Her field was mathematics with an emphasis on statistics, which could have led to medical research. But her father’s cancer had changed everything.

Up to then computer games and trivia had been a hobby, but as her father’s cancer progressed, she used it as an escape. He could rest in bed and talk trivia with her. Or she could play computer games with the sound off while she waited beside his bed for the miracle that never happened.

After her father’s death, she could have gone back to school. But along came Aiden Larsen. He saw the financial possibilities in the world of computer gamers. It was growing like wildfire as more and more children matured with computer games as part of their lives.

Now she wondered if she’d made a mistake by not returning to school. She could be doing something for mankind, like the Holbrooks, instead of fooling with trivia on a computer game site. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Perhaps Aiden could buy her out and add gambling to the site the way he wanted.

But did she want to sell a company that had been her brainchild, a company she’d fought hard to retain in the divorce settlement? She honestly didn’t know and realized she didn’t have the time to think about it right now.

Wyatt and Tobias hung back to discuss something with a technician while Garrison guided her forward. “My father and I differ on the future of medical research.”

“Really?” Madison was surprised. Since they shared facilities and were related, she’d assumed they were on the same page scientifically.

“I think the future is in the sea, not in the lab. There are a million bacteria in every milliliter of sea water and ten million viruses. Can you imagine the potential cures just waiting to be discovered? I call it Neptune’s Medicine Chest.”

“What about biopharming?”

That got him. His smile vanished, replaced by a tight frown. She knew very little beyond the fact that genetically altered crops could produce pharmaceuticals. Genetically altered corn was already producing a protein that showed extraordinary promise in treating hepatitis B.

“There are a number of possibilities on the horizon,” Garrison said, his voice pinched. “I happen to believe the answer is in the ocean. My father likes the lab but he’s willing to fund
any
promising research with the foundation he’s establishing.”

“That’s great,” she said, a little taken aback by the sudden chill in his tone. “I guess it’s impossible to tell exactly where the next revolutionary discovery will be made.”

“My father wanted you to see what we’re doing,” Garrison said, his tone now conciliatory, but the air was fraught with tension.

“Why? I already agreed to be tested.”

“True, but…Father believes you’re his daughter. If he’s right and you test positive, the doctors will explain how difficult the operation will be. It requires extensive surgery that’s not without risk. Recovery takes time.”

“I’ll help if I can, but I doubt—”

The
bring-bring
of her cell phone interrupted them. She walked away, saying, “I have to take this.”

They’d come full circle in the building and she was now just outside the changing room where she’d put on the jumpsuit and headgear. This side also had an air lock room. She waited for the whoosh to cease as she ripped open the Velcro on the suit and dug the cell phone out of her pocket. She shouldered her way into the changing room.

“It’s me,” Jade said when Madison answered. “There’s bad news.”

Madison wiggled out of the jumpsuit while Jade explained that cash withdrawals on her credit cards had been maxed. She was on credit watch at all three credit-reporting agencies. She
clutched the cell phone, concentrating on drawing each breath as panic mushroomed in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Not only had someone stolen her savings, they had wrung every cent she could raise out of her credit cards. She was flat broke.

“Oh my God.” Shaking, Madison dropped her jumpsuit into the disposal bin, then began to peel off the latex gloves. “What am I going to do?”

“Maybe Aiden can help.”

“No, no! Don’t mention this to him. I’ll handle it.” She snapped the cell phone shut without saying goodbye. Tears of anger and frustration welled up in her eyes. She didn’t have anyone to turn to, but she certainly wasn’t going to Aiden with this.

She tried to zero in on her most immediate problem. She needed somewhere to live. With no money and no credit that was going to be a killer. She didn’t know how much time it would take to straighten out the credit mess.

Who could she turn to? The friends she’d made at MIT had continued on with their lives when she’d returned to Miami to be with her father. With Erin gone, she didn’t have any friends to count on here. Her mother—if she resurfaced soon—could help, but who knew when she’d call? Rob might help her but it would be embarrassing to impose on Erin’s ex-boyfriend.

Wyatt Holbrook walked into the room, pulling off his mask. “Is something wrong?”

Trouble must be written all over her face, she decided. “Nah, it’s nothing. Your lab is impressive.”

The older man studied her for a moment, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he shrugged out of the jumpsuit. “I appreciate your taking the time to come see the company I’ve built.”

“It’s more…extensive than I expected.” She couldn’t keep the tremor out of her voice. She was penniless and had no one to help her. She needed to get away and think, plan her next
move. “I’ve got to run. Mr. Pennington has my number. He’s going to arrange for the testing. He’ll call—”

“You’re upset. Was it something Garrison said? I know he can be—”

“No.” She put up her hand. “He’s a great guy. I’ve got to take care of a few things.”

“Will it wait an hour or two? We were going to catch an early dinner—”

“I can’t. My dog is back at the office. I need to get him and find a new place to live. I just found out that the couple who own the home where I’m staying are coming back early. It’s not easy to find a place when you have a pet.”

She hadn’t intended to tell him anything about her problems but this explanation seemed necessary somehow. Wyatt Holbrook was a very compassionate man, and she didn’t want him to worry about her. This was easier than going into her financial troubles.

Wyatt smiled and she glimpsed the man he must have been when he was young like Garrison. A real charmer. No wonder a wealthy heiress had fallen for him. “I have the perfect solution. You stay in the guesthouse at Corona del Mar.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” she cried, astounded that he’d offered.

“Why not? It’s well away from the main house and has a side yard for your dog. I assume it would only be for a short time while you find a suitable place.”

“I couldn’t,” Madison replied, a flimsy splinter of a protest. This could be a short-term solution to her problem.

“Why not?” he repeated. “You’re doing me a favor by taking the test. The least I can do is let you stay in my guesthouse for a few days.”

Panic evaporated in a dizzy rush, morphing into a fury beyond anything she’d previously experienced. When she found the person who’d done this to her…Madison almost thought she’d kill him. Then the image of her best friend came to mind.
There were worse problems than identity theft. The thought should have calmed her, but it didn’t.