Malice

by Jennifer Jaynes

  They rode in silence. Just north of Ventura, Teddy turned onto Highway 33. Open vistas of sparkling blue ocean immediately gave way to concrete strip malls and rolling hills. They would soon be driving away from civilization and into the remote woods of Los Padres National Forest.

  A long and subdued hour and a half after leaving Daniel’s house, Teddy pulled off Highway 33 onto a dirt road that cut a swath through the tall Douglas firs. At the top of a hill, Daniel saw what had to be Teddy’s cabin. As he expected, the word cabin was a loose description for the gorgeous, rambling two-story structure.

  “That’s quite a cabin.”

  “A reward for not making waves.”

  Daniel felt stung. “Teddy—”

  Teddy threw up his hand. “I said tomorrow.”

  They rolled up to a covered parking area, where a sleek red Jaguar and a shiny black Humvee were parked.

  “Yours?”

  “No. They belong to a couple of my buddies. Tonight’s poker night. You play, right?”

  It was well known that Teddy was a poker fanatic. Many weekends, he flew to Vegas and played around the clock.

  “Just in that Christmas tournament you hosted a couple of years back.”

  “Oh, right. Wait. Weren’t you the first one to bust out that night?” Teddy asked, grunting as he tried to climb from the vehicle.

  “Yeah.”

  “Aw. Well, then, the boys are going to love you. Don’t worry if you don’t have the cash. I’ll spot you.”

  The cabin was even more gorgeous inside. The main room was very masculine, wide and open, with a high-beamed ceiling and oak floors. The centerpiece was a massive stone fireplace on the far wall that spread ten feet wide and climbed up the cedar beams of the A-frame ceiling. A large elk head adorned the space above the mantel and seemed to stare right at Daniel.

  To the left of the front door was a large kitchen separated from the living room by a red cedar bar and large farm table. To the right was a dark brown leather sectional sofa that could easily seat ten people. Behind it was a built-in fully stocked bar.

  Sitting at the bar already were two men who looked about Teddy’s age. They stood when they saw Daniel and Teddy walk in.

  “Man, they’ll let just about anyone in here these days,” the taller of the two announced.

  “That explains how you two mongrels got in,” Teddy said.

  The men approached Teddy, and they hugged, slapping each other’s backs.

  Teddy directed their attention to Daniel.

  “Guys, I want you to meet our fourth. An associate of mine, Dr. Daniel Winters.”

  The tall man reached out his hand. “Cy Loughlin.”

  Daniel shook Cy’s hand.

  The shorter of the men whose face was hidden behind thick glasses extended his hand. “Jim Michner.”

  Teddy told him that Jim and Cy were with the FDA. They’d all been buddies for about thirty years. Daniel instantly wondered how they could afford the pricey vehicles he’d seen outside on government salaries.

  “Thirsty?” Teddy asked, peering at Daniel. “Lord knows I could use a drink.”

  Daniel nodded.

  Teddy walked to the other side of the bar. “What would you like?”

  Ginger ale.

  “Jameson. On the rocks.”

  Teddy smiled in approval. He grabbed a highball glass and two shot glasses. He poured shots of Jameson and set one in front of Daniel. “To our wives. And to our lovers. May the two never meet.”

  Cy and Jim cheered heartily. Daniel threw the shot back, enjoying the liquor’s heat.

  He set the shot glass down, hoping Billy was watching Mia.

  He picked up his drink and went to the couch to discreetly check his phone for a connection. But he had none.

  He heard a female’s voice and looked up. A tall ebony-haired woman had entered the room. “You boys ready for me?”

  The woman looked to be maybe in her midtwenties. She wore a tight black dress. Its scoop neckline barely contained her breasts, and it was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Had Teddy hired a stripper for poker night?

  “Gentlemen, this is Candace,” Teddy announced. “She’s a professional poker dealer and will be dealing for us tonight. Because I don’t trust you sorry sons of bitches.”

  Teddy turned to the woman. “Why don’t you go ahead and set up, darling? We should be ready in ten or so minutes.”

  Teddy said quietly in Daniel’s ear: “If you’re in the mood for a little distraction tonight, just say the word. She’s all yours.”

  “She’s a prostitute?”

  “No. Like I said, she’s a professional poker dealer.”

  “Then—”

  “Stop being so naive. Everyone has a price.”

  Daniel glanced at Candace and immediately thought of Mia. He wondered if she had a price. Was it possible she’d met someone with more money than he had? Was that her secret? He wondered how long it would take to find out.

  Half an hour later, drinks were flowing, cigar smoke clouded the air, and cards were being dealt. Daniel was working on his third drink and had already downed three shots with Teddy. The sheer volume of alcohol in his system had been more than enough to put the voice to sleep.

  Maybe even in a coma.

  He wasn’t concerned about getting plastered. Not tonight. After all, being sober wasn’t working all that well for him, so at least he could let himself escape for a little while.

  Relax.

  Unwind.

  It would be good not to think about his problems for a few hours. He had no intention of even trying to bring up Respira again. Not tonight. Not after the sting of everyone’s disinterest and laughter earlier. He was going to need more time to think. He needed to talk to someone else about this. Someone aside from Mia who was willing to listen and who would do so without bias. Someone in the industry. He remembered that he still hadn’t heard back from Andy.

  “Come on, Danny. Play a few hands, will you?” Teddy teased. “Don’t make me talk to these goons all by myself. It’s exhausting.”

  Daniel checked his phone one more time—in case he miraculously now had coverage.

  But he was out of luck.

  CHAPTER 26

  MIA

  AN HOUR AFTER Daniel had left for Teddy’s cabin, Mia was folding laundry and feeling lonely, waiting for messages from either Daniel or her friend, Sam Hutchens. She’d reached out to both about thirty minutes ago.

  Sam was always the one person she found herself turning to when she was in trouble or needed advice. He’d also been a big part of the reason she’d singled Daniel out that first night at the bar. When she’d seen Daniel sit down that night, her heart had fluttered, and she knew she had to talk to him. Not because she’d found him handsome—although she had—but because he’d reminded her so much of Sam. She missed Sam. She hadn’t seen him in person since she was fifteen.

  He’d been her next-door neighbor and her first and only best friend in the high-rise apartment building she’d lived in with her mother—the first and one of the only men in her life who had been kind to her without expecting anything in return. He’d been almost three years older than Mia and had offered her a much-needed escape from her miserable life with her mother.

  After seeing him in the elevator of their apartment building one day, she’d gone to his door and asked if he’d like to hang out, maybe go to the building’s rooftop where there were pool and ping-pong tables. Sam had said yes, and almost every day for two years, when she went to his door, he had let her hang out with him. Sometimes she’d just hung out at his apartment, watching television or watching him and his brother, Fred, play video games. Sometimes they’d hang out on the rooftop, playing ping-pong. Sam never seemed to mind her company, and he was kind to her. She’d felt ineffable comfort with him from the very first time they’d met, which had been strange, because she hadn’t and still didn’t feel comfortable with many people.

  They were both children o
f single mothers who didn’t pay much attention to them. Mia’s hadn’t because she was an addict and emotionally unavailable. Sam’s hadn’t because she was spread thin working two jobs, and she was always busy with Fred, who was often in some sort of trouble.

  Her relationship with Sam had been strictly platonic. He was like the big brother she’d never had—and being with him had been the highlight of her days. But when he’d turned eighteen, he’d joined the marine corps and left for boot camp. She’d been beside herself with grief after he’d left and thought of him every day for years. She’d gotten back in touch with Sam online a few years ago. He was still in the marines and was now stationed in Thailand. They spoke to each other a couple of times a month and messaged each other online sometimes. He was the only person who knew what had happened to her. The only one who knew what she’d done. When she was lonely, she often thought of Sam because he’d been her first escape, her safe haven. Her relationship with him was like a warm blanket on a frigid night. Being with Daniel usually warmed her, too, but he’d been so chilly lately. She needed to figure out how to get them back to their good place.

  A text came in. She picked up her phone and saw it was from Elliott, her boss at Jiminy’s:

  Hey, wanted you to know someone’s been sending you flowers. I’m afraid there was a mix-up and Britt brought one of the bouquets home the other day, thinking they were hers. But the latest bouquet is sitting here on my desk. I’ve been so busy, it slipped my mind that they were here. Sorry.

  Mia frowned and texted back. Who are they from?

  The reply came quickly. No card. It was the reason for the confusion.

  There were only two people she could think of who would send her flowers. What kind of flowers are they? she asked.

  She waited for a reply, knowing Elliott probably knew nothing about flowers and was asking around. After a couple of minutes, she received his response: Britt thinks they’re orchids.

  Mia thanked him and told him she’d stop by to pick them up, but her mind was already racing. If Daniel had sent them, he had to be wondering why she hadn’t said anything.

  Crap.

  That—and that alone—could explain his strange behavior.

  The coldness.

  There were only two people who would have sent the orchids. She sent a text to the second possibility.

  Hey, did you send me flowers?

  The reply came almost instantly. It always did.

  No. Should I have?

  Shit, shit, shit!

  Another text came through: Sounds like you have an admirer.

  Yeah. My husband, she thought. She hadn’t told him about Daniel.

  When will I see you again? he asked.

  Her heart fluttered like hummingbird wings, and despite herself, she smiled. Watching the play of light and shadow on the curtains, she contemplated the riskiness of seeing him again so soon. It was pretty dangerous, but she was lonely.

  So lonely, it hurt.

  Maybe she’d go out for just a little while, come back in plenty of time before Daniel returned. He would never know.

  She texted back: How about now?

  CHAPTER 27

  DANIEL

  DANIEL WOKE UP to something poking him. He groaned and opened his eyes, surprised to find himself staring at a paneled wall. He wasn’t at home. Where was he?

  He felt another poke, then heard a deep voice behind him.

  “Come on, sunshine. We’re burning daylight.”

  He winced and turned over slowly to see Teddy’s big figure towering over him. He sat up, and his head started pounding.

  “Whoa. You look like shit,” Teddy said.

  Daniel rubbed at his temples.

  “Damn, kid. I had no idea. You can really put it away.”

  Yeah, real impressive, Daniel.

  “What time is it?” Daniel asked, his voice thick from sleep.

  “Nine thirty. I let you sleep in.”

  Daniel rubbed his eyes. “The guys still here?”

  “No. They left this morning.”

  Teddy walked to the doorway. “Don’t go back to sleep. Coffee’s downstairs. I’ll cook up some bacon and eggs to smother that hangover.”

  Daniel fumbled for his phone and checked it for messages. Nothing. Still no signal.

  Thirty minutes later, after some breakfast and ibuprofen, he felt slightly more human.

  “Thought we’d take a little hike,” Teddy said.

  Outside, the December mountain air felt good on Daniel’s face. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the chilled air.

  He watched Teddy, who was carrying a water bottle filled with a Bloody Mary as he trudged up the trail. If the man had drunk too much last night, he certainly wasn’t showing it today. But then again, Teddy always looked unwell.

  “Exercise isn’t my thing, as I’m sure you can tell,” Teddy said, patting the generous gut that overlapped his pants. “But I’ve got to take at least one walk while I’m out here. It’s just too beautiful not to.” Teddy glanced at him. “What did you think of the guys?”

  “They were fun.”

  “Good guys to know.”

  Daniel wasn’t surprised that Teddy had close friends at the FDA. Teddy was well connected and seemed to know pretty much everyone.

  “You passed out in the middle of a hand. A pretty big one. Thankfully, Cy let you keep your money.”

  Shit. “I did?”

  “Yep.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “What are you sorry for? You didn’t hurt anyone. You let loose. We all need to do that from time to time,” Teddy said. “And you’ve been wound up too tightly lately . . . walking around with that big scowl on your face. Like you’re carrying the whole world on your shoulders. You needed last night.”

  Yeah, like a hole in my head.

  They walked in silence for at least five minutes. Daniel wondered whether he should say something or let Teddy direct the conversation. Deciding to let Teddy take the lead, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and checked for a signal again.

  Nothing.

  He tried to relax, appreciate the beauty of the forest, but he had too much on his mind. For one, what did Mia do last night? And had she done it alone? Had Billy found out anything?

  He tried to engage in some small talk, if nothing else to get out of his head. “How long have you had this place?” he asked Teddy.

  “Going on ten years. Bought it with my first wife. Number two hates the woods and wants nothing to do with the cabin, so now I come out every chance I can get.”

  He glanced at Daniel and winked.

  Daniel remembered the female dealer from last night and wondered if Teddy had propositioned her.

  Teddy led the way down the dirt path that wound through the tall firs and oaks. The trees were so dense, they almost completely blocked the sun. Daniel saw the two-story cabin in the distance. He hadn’t realized they’d walked in a circle.

  “So, listen, Chet and Roy don’t want you at the monthly brunches anymore. You’ve been officially disinvited.”

  After seeing the doctors’ reactions to what he’d had to say yesterday morning, he wasn’t surprised.

  “Those brunches were a privilege. We go there to relax,” Teddy continued. “Get away from work. You made everyone uncomfortable.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “Apparently, there’s still a lot for you to learn, Danny. But you’re in luck because I’m an excellent teacher,” Teddy said.

  He pushed the front door of the cabin open and walked in. Daniel followed him through the foyer, then Teddy took a right into the living room and slipped behind the bar. “Managed care changed everything for doctors. Now there are all these restrictions on the way we practice. It’s more of a big business now than ever.” He sighed. “In medical school, you have some noble idea of what a doctor should be. Then one day you’re smacked with the realization that it’s a business. You can’t always practice medicine the way you want to. You have to do
things according to the rules. You get cynical for a while, but eventually, you have to accept it. I know it’s a difficult pill to swallow because I’ve been there.” He held Daniel’s gaze. “But I knew if I wanted to continue as a doctor, keep my colleagues’ respect, and move up, there were certain rules I had to follow. And, Danny . . . you have to follow them, too.”

  Daniel listened.

  “I’m going to tell you something else now,” Teddy said, his eyes locking on Daniel’s. “Something I trust that you’ll keep between you and me.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “The practice is in a bit of trouble. Financially speaking. It has been for some time now.”

  Daniel tried to conceal his surprise. The clinic was always packed.

  “I made a few big mistakes.”

  Daniel was listening.

  “I took a big gamble and had the place renovated right before you came on board. Costs started going up: rent, equipment, staff. And don’t even get me started on malpractice insurance,” Teddy said, shaking his head. “To add insult to injury, when other pediatric practices started turning away patients who weren’t getting their vaccinations per the CDC’s schedule, I decided not to. I didn’t want to turn away families who were concerned about the shots just so I could have a bigger payday. I was feeling a bit like you probably are now. Maybe a little indignant. I wanted to do what I thought was the right thing. Let my families have a choice in the matter, you know?”

  Teddy pulled two glasses from behind the bar. “Hair of the dog?”

  No, Daniel. Don’t.

  Daniel nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  Teddy grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and began pouring. “But when you allow families to cherry-pick or flatly refuse vaccines, you lose a shit-ton of office visits and the vaccine bonuses. Between those two areas alone, we lose almost two million dollars every year.”

  Daniel frowned. “I don’t understand. Vaccination bonuses. Like what we’re getting with Respira?”

  “Very similar. We only receive them if a certain percentage of our patient base is current on their vaccines. Anything below that percentage, and we don’t qualify for one damn cent.”