Outlier: One mistake can destroy everything. (6 page)

Dr. Nguyen was finishing up an old court inquiry when the phone rang.

“Coroner’s office.”

“Tony, Bernie again. I may have some information for you.”

“Regarding?” Dr. Nguyen had been suddenly overwhelmed with a mountain of paperwork. Everybody wanted to cover their butts. This was the part of his job he hated.

“BioGyn.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry, my mind was somewhere else. What do you have, Bernie?”

“Well, again, you didn’t hear this from me, but an associate of mine who’s done some consulting for them in the past still keeps in touch with some of the techs there.” Dr. Bernard Roth sounded a bit hesitant.

“Uh huh.”

“Apparently, they are working on a general nervous system depressant. What they’re calling a stress relief drug. However, they’ve done some monkeying around with some naturally occurring chemicals so they can cross the blood-brain barrier.”

“Uh huh. That’s not entirely uncommon. A few stress drugs can do that.” Dr. Nguyen sat up a little straighter.

“Well, the thing is that they are intending for this to be an over-the-counter medication.”

“I see. I can definitely see the danger there. But that’s kind of in the opposite direction. A general nervous system inhibitor would tend to lower blood pressure and other sympathetic systems. I was hoping for something that may have the opposite effect. You follow?” Dr. Nguyen sounded a bit let down.

“Yeah, well, here’s the thing. This particular thing they’ve altered is a compound that itself does some other things than simply lower blood pressure.”

“What’s the original compound?”

“Well, my source tells me it’s aminobutyric acid, a neuro-inhibitor. They’ve added a phenyl ring so it will cross the blood-brain barrier, making it much more potent.” Dr. Roth wondered if Dr. Nguyen would see his line of thinking.

“Yeah, when you mess with crossing from the bloodstream into the brain fluid, that’s kind of dicey. I’m surprised they are going for an over-the-counter with this. Especially with an inhibitor. That would turn people into zombies, more or less.”

“Well, my thinking on this,” Dr. Roth paused, “is that if this were a clinical run, and they were trying different combinations, there would be different levels of permeability,” he continued, referring to the amount of a chemical in the bloodstream that would be able to cross over into the brain’s extracellular fluid.

“Yeah, I see where you’re going with this. Get the mix too high, and it could potentially liquefy some or all of the brain matter. Or who knows what else.” Dr. Nguyen started to put things together.

“Well, like I said, this is only what I’ve heard, from somebody else who’s only heard, you know? Anything official would have to wait until a commercial release, and even then all the clinical data would be confidential. I’m not sure how helpful this is.”

“Actually, Bernie,” Dr. Nguyen said, “this is pretty helpful. At least it gives me an idea. I just wish we had more solid data, something hard to reference. But I appreciate you looking into this for me.”

After he hung up, he thought about how to proceed. He’d never be able to get any official confirmation or denial from BioGyn. Those companies spent millions and sometimes billions of dollars on research, and there’s no way they would release anything unless they absolutely had to. He doubted there was anything Detective Lovac or Chief Hernandez could do that would compel them.

Even getting a court order was hopeless, as all he had was thirdhand information—which would never hold up in court. He felt an obligation to tell Sean. But first he’d have to check with the chief. He always liked to be kept in the loop. Besides, he may be able to think of something.

The chief answered on the third ring.

“Chief Hernandez, Dr. Nguyen. I may have some information on the, uh, Paimen case.” He wasn’t even sure if this was a case. If it was ruled a natural death, then there wouldn’t be an open investigation.

“Yes, Doctor; sorry for being too slow, back’s been killing me. What information do you have for me?”

“Well, I’m afraid nothing concrete, only that she may have participated in a clinical study for a drug called LoZiet, made by BioGyn. And that drug may have caused a side effect, which may have led to the, uh, incident.”

There was a bit of a pause. Then some heavy breathing.

“Dr. Nguyen, if there indeed was a clinical trial, then there were likely waivers signed, indemnifying the company; would that be correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And are you aware that federal law does not require pharmaceutical companies to publish side effects, even deadly ones, of clinical trials prior to release of the drug in question?”

“Yes, Chief, I’m aware of that,” responded Dr. Nguyen, feeling a bit foolish.

“I do appreciate your due diligence, Doctor, but if this potential clinical trial that Miss Paimen may have been involved in was responsible for her death, I’m afraid there’s really no legal recourse. You do understand that, correct?”

“Yes, Chief; of course. I just promised Sean I would find something out.”

“Well, Doctor, I know you don’t report to me in any capacity, but I’m going to ask you to specifically not tell Sean about this. Can you understand why?”

Dr. Nguyen paused briefly. Knowing a pharmaceutical company killed your girlfriend on an experimental drug wasn’t something most people would take lightly. And the legality may even be questionable, given that this was just an opinion based on thirdhand information. He may lose his medical license if he put BioGyn in a bad light, even with hard evidence. Few people realized the legal power that pharmaceutical companies held.

“Yes, Chief. I do understand completely. I just wanted to touch base with what I’ve found. Consider this issue closed. I’ll keep this to myself.”

He sat in silence for a full ten minutes after hanging up. He looked again at the autopsy report, including the pictures.

Now he had a problem.

He’d just lied to the chief of police. Something he did not take lightly.

Sean pulled up in front of Jay’s house in his unmarked police car. He wondered if he had he ever been inside. He’d known Jay awhile, but he couldn’t remember Jay ever having any friends. There had been endless parties at numerous houses of kids whose parents had foolishly trusted them when they’d gone out of town. But Jay’s? This was going to be a first.

He walked up slowly, figuring Jay wouldplay dumb
.
Jay answered immediately, before he even knocked. He must have seen him walking up.

“Sean. What—um, what are you doing here? I didn’t do anything!”

Sean smiled as calmly and as warmly as he could. “I know you didn’t do anything, Jay; you’re not in trouble. Just something weird happened at school today, and somebody thought maybe you saw something. The only other people involved are kids, and you know how they are! Who knows if they’re telling the truth or not?” He chuckled. “Mind if I come in?”

“Oh, OK.” Jay stepped back; Sean passed him, looking around the living room.

“You live here alone?” He knew he didn’t.

“No; with my mom. She’s out now, probably at work.” He stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Should we sit down?” Sean asked, motioning to the sofa.

“OK,” Jay answered, waiting for Sean to move first. He did. Jay followed, sitting next to him.

“So, I heard that something happened between Chi and Josh. Chi is a sophomore, short, black hair, Asian? Josh is white, and a senior, I think. Big guy, brown hair, about down to his ears…?” He waited. Jay just looked at him blankly. Obviously hiding something.

“Well, they said they were in the drama room, practicing for their debate, and you saw them through the window?” Sean asked helpfully.

“No, I didn’t see them. I passed that room, and there was nobody there. I sweep that hallway every day between sixth and seventh period. I don’t usually go in there because the kids are doing stuff. I don’t want to mess them up or anything.”

“That’s weird. They said they saw you looking in through that big window. Maybe they made a mistake?” he asked cheerfully. Jay continued to stare, forcing his facial muscles to not move.

“No, I don’t usually look up. I was, uh, listening to music.”

“What were you listening to; do you remember?” he asked, as if it were important, as if he were ready to take notes. Jay flinched and broke eye contact, looking up in the air behind Sean, as if to find the answer somewhere.

“I don’t remember. I just turn it on, and it plays whatever’s on there,” Jay answered, speaking much more quickly.

“I see. Well, it’s not very important. Can you remember anything strange that happened today? Or maybe why you left early? The secretary said you left earlier than normal,” Sean said while looking at his pad. An offhand question. Not really important.

“I, uh, didn’t feel well. I guess,” Jay said, his eyes unable to meet Sean’s.

“Do you feel OK now?” Sean asked, looking at him helpfully. Something was definitely wrong.

“Yes.” Jay smiled. Then his expression changed. “Sean, why did Sheryl leave?” He looked genuinely confused.

“I don’t know, Jay,” Sean replied. He looked at Jay, searching his expression.

“She was nice to me. But then I felt guilty. I had a dream about her Friday night. I think it was something bad. But I forgot what it was about. Did she leave because of something I did?” Jay asked. Sean could see he was genuinely worried.

Sean looked at him. Did he really think she just left? Is that what they told him at school?

“I’m sorry, Sean. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s OK, Jay. Don’t worry about it. So, nothing happened at school today, then?” he asked, quickly changing the subject. Jay was last on his list of people he wanted to talk to about Sheryl.

Jay looked confused for a minute, then remembered the reason for the visit. “No; nothing happened,” Jay said, again on the defensive.

“OK, Jay, thanks for your time. I may come back with more questions about today; would that be OK?” he asked, smiling.

“Sure, Sean. Anytime.” Jay didn’t get up as Sean went to the door. He let himself out.

He sat in his car, thinking. Chi didn’t seem to be lying, nor did she seem the type to misremember things. Which meant that something did happen, and Jay was purposely lying about it. Why would that be?

It also meant he’d have to go and talk to a high school football star about peeing his pants in front of a cute girl. He wondered if he was going to piece together anything resembling the truth.

Tuesday, 6 p.m.

Sean sat in the back of The Whistler, sipping his gin and tonic. He looked again at his phone. He had a few messages from the chief he’d need to return sooner or later. Alan had left a message. He needed to postpone the Houston trip. Sean put off returning all messages for a while. He didn’t know when he’d get back to them; he wasn’t sure what he was doing.

Chasing down kids? He didn’t really care who did what. Nothing was broken; nobody was injured. As far as he was concerned, it was done. He wasn’t going to chase down some 15-year-old’s suspicion of voodoo. Nothing seemed important anymore.

He hadn’t called Bethany to see if she was even playing or working here tonight. He figured he’d just show up. Have a few. If he saw her, he’d hit it. If not, so what? Maybe somebody else. Maybe he’d just keep drinking until he woke up somewhere interesting.

After his third G&T, she came on stage. She played more or less the same set from Saturday night. When she saw him, she brightened. When he saw what she was wearing, he sat up a little straighter. After her set, she came over and sat with him.

“Hi! I’m glad you came, but you should have called. I look terrible!” She feigned embarrassment. He didn’t really care how she looked, or—if he were completely honest with himself—what she said, or was going to say. He just wanted company. The kind of company where he didn’t have to think about future plans.

“I was in the neighborhood; things are kind of slow at work.” That was an understatement. The case of the peed pants. Jesus.

“So you’re back at work? I thought you were going to take some time off?” she asked, trying to sound as caring as possible.

“Well, I don’t really see the point of hanging out at home for a week or two. It’s not like Rockport is filled with deadly crimes that take amazing amounts of brainpower. I figure it’s better to keep busy.” He didn’t bother asking about her.

“That makes sense. So what kind of crimes are happening recently?” she asked. Her interest seemed real. Most people liked hearing real crime gossip.

“Nothing interesting. Plus, I can’t really talk about open cases.”

“Oh, right; I got it. That would be like against policy or something.” She tried to sound like an insider.

They exchanged small talk and had drinks for another hour, then went to her place. After a much longer session than the last time, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling while she slept soundly. Her right arm rested on his chest, and her right leg was draped over his.

He imagined his future in Rockport. Chasing down high-school vandalism. Dealing with bodies that eventually belonged to another jurisdiction. Wondering how much longer the chief would stick around, with his back the way it was. Guy could barely get out of bed without a handful of pain pills. Sean was only 27. Too young to be chief? He knew Winnie, the mayor, pretty well. She’d looked after him after his mom was killed. She wasn’t a typical politician, and she had been mayor for a long time. She rarely had any opposition. She may back him. But then again, maybe she’d already had somebody else in mind. Hernandez had been on the fence for a long time now. He was old school. He didn’t want to admit he couldn’t do the job anymore.

Being detective while being married to Sheryl had seemed like the perfect job. Easy. Nice pay. Good benefits. Great place to raise a family. Now he felt lost. Alone. He looked over at Bethany. Was this the kind of girl he had to choose from? He didn’t like that thought. He thought of the girls at college. Under different circumstances, maybe.

He thought about his options. No strings. Maybe practice law? He’d already gotten a head start. School was easy enough. He couldn’t remember any of the classes giving him any headaches. He was usually the top of his class in all of his subjects.

He’d always known he wanted to get into some kind of law enforcement. His mom had been killed by a drunk driver when he was a sophomore. Rich guy with an expensive attorney. Got off with a slap, and Sean didn’t like that. He had chosen to be a cop to stay close to the criminals, but now he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t want to start over again in Houston or San Antonio. No way he’d keep his rank.

How long to get a law degree? Three years? That’d be easy. Maybe do it at night while he worked here. They may even pay for it. Then he’d blow town. Dallas? Another state?

He glanced over at the sleeping body next to him. Nice figure. Great in the sack. Personality and brains were another story.

He let his mind wander.