Malice

by Jennifer Jaynes

  He wasn’t going to talk to Mia until he knew. Until he finally knew what he was dealing with. He had slept—if you could even call it that—in his home office last night, not wanting to see her again until after he and Billy had talked.

  He set the phone down and drummed his fingers on the table. The diner was old and had clearly seen better days. It smelled like a combination of bacon and Pine-Sol. Someone had carved the name Jenna in both the table and the red vinyl seat. He noticed dust had gathered in the corner of the seat, and someone had stuck some pink gum into a hole in the vinyl. God knows the last time this place had a proper cleaning, he thought. But the coffee was decent.

  The coffee.

  He couldn’t believe he was thinking about coffee at a time like this.

  He rolled a small tub of half-and-half between his palms and focused on breathing.

  His phone buzzed again. Another text from Mia.

  I’m worried. Let me know you’re okay.

  Worried about what?

  What I might have found out about you?

  He was feeling sick just thinking about her. He decided it would be best to redirect his thoughts until Billy showed up. He texted Collin, the young doctor who had been at brunch. Since he’d been the only doctor who had shown at least a morsel of interest in what Daniel had said, Daniel wanted to talk to him. He hoped that what he’d seen the young doctor throw away when he left the brunch hadn’t been one of his packets.

  Wanted to see if you had time to go over the information I shared at brunch. Would love to meet and see if you have any thoughts.

  He shot the text off and set his phone down. It was 6:02 a.m., and he realized that if he moved his eyes too quickly to the left or the right, the room slanted a little. Maybe he should order some food to help soak up some of the alcohol.

  At 6:10 a.m., he ordered a doughnut and a second cup of coffee.

  Anger simmered deep inside. Come on, Billy. Where are you? How the hell can you be late for something like this?

  At 6:20 a.m., he ordered a cherry turnover.

  At 6:25 a.m., he realized his head was beginning to clear a bit. He drained his second cup of coffee and motioned to the waitress for another cup.

  At 6:30 a.m., a text came in. It was from Collin.

  Sorry, but I can’t get involved. Family to feed. Good luck.

  He stared at the message. Had he read that correctly?

  Can’t get involved?

  The air stalled in his lungs. What the hell was with these people? How could doctors, doctors, turn their backs on their patients?

  It’s called self-preservation. Something you should also be concerned with. But we both know how terrible you are at that.

  Daniel glowered, sweat now soaking his armpits. Everyone was falling short of his expectations: Mia, Teddy, Chet, Roy . . . now Collin.

  He tapped a foot on the sticky floor.

  Where the hell was Billy?

  His phone buzzed again. Another text. He picked it up but this time didn’t recognize the number.

  Hi. My name is Gail Whitman. I’m a medical journalist and run GetTheFactsAboutRespira.com. I need to talk to you ASAP. Call me when you can.

  He was very familiar with the website. He’d found a lot of his research on it. But how in the hell did she get his number? And why did she want to talk to him? He stared at her message for several seconds, then realized that maybe this was a good thing. She might be the perfect person for him to talk to. He would definitely call her later.

  The little bell above the diner door jingled, and Billy came swaggering in.

  Finally.

  “Sorry I’m late, bro,” he said, sliding into the cracked booth.

  “What did you find out?” Daniel interrupted, his words rushed.

  Billy sighed. “Sorry, man,” he said. He leaned forward and punched something on his phone. He slid the device across the table to Daniel.

  Photographs.

  Daniel’s jaw tensed. The first photo was Mia’s red Jetta parked in front of a house he didn’t recognize.

  He glanced at Billy. “This was two nights ago?”

  Billy nodded. “Yeah. When you were on your camping trip.”

  The next photo showed Mia standing next to the car, and Bruce jumping out.

  “Christ, she took my dog with her?”

  “Yeah, man. She did.”

  A chill started at Daniel’s head and spread all the way down his back as he looked at the next photo. A well-built shirtless man meeting Mia and Bruce at the door of a small ranch-style house. Mia and the man hugging.

  “She left the house about an hour after you left with your boss. She jumped into her car with the dog, then drove straight to the valley, to this guy’s house. They stayed inside the house the entire time. Ordered a pizza a couple of hours later. And she left at 2:15 a.m.”

  She stayed there until 2:15 a.m.?

  Daniel felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Tears burning his eyes, he studied the picture of his wife hugging the man again as she left. The man was now wearing a sweatshirt. He was quite a bit taller than Mia. Probably around six feet or a little taller.

  “You don’t know him?” Billy asked.

  Daniel shook his head.

  “Sorry, man. I was hoping I wouldn’t find anything.”

  “What’s his name?” Daniel asked.

  “Christian. Christian Davis.”

  Daniel felt nauseated. Even though he had expected the worst, it didn’t make it hurt any less. First his career, and now this?

  There was a final picture. Christian and Mia, standing outside Mia’s Jetta. Bruce stood at Mia’s feet, staring up at them.

  “That one was taken at 2:15 a.m., right before she left. Sorry, man.”

  Jesus.

  Daniel stared at the final photograph.

  “Want me to make him go away?” Billy asked. “Just say the word, bro, because I do that, too.”

  Make him go away? What did that even mean? Daniel’s hand trembled as he swiped back through the pictures again.

  “Send me these.”

  “Sure. You got it, man.”

  Daniel’s phone buzzed. It was Mia.

  Fuck you, Mia.

  He silenced the call.

  “Where does he live?” Daniel asked. “I want his address.”

  CHAPTER 31

  DANIEL

  IT WAS STILL fairly early when Daniel reached Pacific Palisades and turned onto Entrada Drive. He was stuck so deeply inside his head that, at first, he didn’t even register the people standing outside of the practice holding signs.

  Frowning, he pulled into the parking lot and slid into his usual parking space. He got out of his car and headed toward the office. As he approached, he realized the group was picketing.

  What the—?

  One of the protesters pointed at him. Everyone turned in his direction, and the chants grew louder.

  The group was fairly small. Ten people at the most. He recognized a few of them as parents he’d seen at the practice. Patients of Teddy’s and Dr. Thornton’s, though, not his. As he walked past, they all waved signs in his face, their chant erupting into a unified yell: “STOP POISONING OUR KIDS!”

  He saw two young children were also holding signs that read:

  THE DOCTORS HERE HURT US!

  One young boy, maybe seven or eight years old, was sitting on a curb, his sign resting in his lap. Daniel stopped in his tracks and stared at him. The boy looked so much like his late brother. When the kid noticed Daniel staring, he held up his sign:

  STOP SACRIFICING MY HEALTH SO YOU CAN SEND YOUR KID TO PRIVATE SCHOOL!

  Daniel squeezed his eyes shut for a quick moment.

  The protestors’ words stung because they were blaming him. Even worse, they had every right to. He was part of the problem. He wanted to talk to these parents. Tell them that they had every right to be concerned. To picket. That he agreed with them. That they were doing the right thing: spreading the word.

  Bu
t he couldn’t say any of these things.

  At least not yet.

  He pushed through the glass front door of the office and felt as though he’d stepped into an alternate universe. Everything seemed normal inside the building. The chanting outside quickly becoming just a distant hum. The blinds were closed. The air was heated and smelled of their signature antiseptic cleaner. A handful of children were there for early Respira appointments. They sat with their parents, watching a cartoon on the overhead monitors. Margy was sitting at the front desk as usual. The only thing out of the norm was Teddy standing next to her, staring at the protesters outside. His face was flushed, his hands planted on his generous hips.

  When Daniel approached, Teddy glared at him. “Did you do this?”

  “What?” Daniel asked.

  Teddy pointed toward the front door. To the protesters outside.

  Daniel shook his head. “No, Teddy. I didn’t.”

  Teddy stared at him as though contemplating whether to believe him.

  Daniel walked past him to his office. As he shrugged on his lab coat, he realized the practice no longer felt like a second home. And he was pretty sure it never would again.

  He was putting his things away when he realized he still hadn’t opened the brown envelope. Pulling it from his bag, he tore it open and pulled out two 9x11 sheets of paper. The first was a news story that had been printed in the Los Angeles Times:

  PEDIATRICIAN’S FAMILY SLAIN IN MURDER-SUICIDE

  Frowning, he scanned the story. It was consistent with what he’d heard on the radio. That the doctor and his family had been found dead from gunshot wounds, and that the deaths were suspected to be a murder-suicide. No mention of Hemsworth’s father suspecting foul play from an outside source. Also, nothing about the private pathologist.

  His heart thudded in his chest.

  The second was also a Los Angeles Times piece, but this one was only a small paragraph:

  SUICIDE SUSPECTED IN DEATH OF MAN, 30, FOUND AT BOTTOM OF GORGE IN HOLLYWOOD HILLS

  The short article read: The death of a man found Thursday at the base of Mount Lee just below the world-famous Hollywood sign landmark has been ruled a suicide, the Los Angeles police said. The man, 30, has been identified as Andy Cameron of Encino.

  Daniel bristled.

  Who the hell sent him these?

  Someone was trying to scare him.

  CHAPTER 32

  MIA

  MIA GUNNED THE accelerator and sped toward the valley, wondering who had texted Daniel last night and what that person had said. After receiving the text, he’d sequestered himself in his office and hadn’t wanted to talk. She’d spent most of the night awake and worrying, but she must have fallen asleep for a few minutes, because at some point before dawn, he’d slipped out of the house. She’d tried checking his computer again for possible clues, but he’d installed a password on it.

  Once she reached the house, she killed the engine and jumped out of the car. She yanked her hoodie up over her head and hurried up the sidewalk. Just as she was about to knock, the door opened. Christian was wearing an undershirt and had shaving cream slathered on his face and a razor in his hand. He smiled. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

  “I needed to get out of the house,” she muttered. Maybe Christian had been a mistake, but being with him soothed her, and right now, she desperately needed soothing. She was starting to freak out. With Christian, she felt the acceptance she’d once felt with Daniel. With Sam.

  She walked past him into the small living room. Like always, the place reeked of pot. It was also a mess. Dirty dishes littered the coffee table. Clothes were flung on a chair, and the worn carpet needed serious vacuuming. It was clear that Christian was far from perfect, but even so, there was no doubt she had begun to feel something for him. The more time she spent with him, the more she trusted him. Believed what he told her.

  She noticed he was staring at her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He looked skeptical. “You sure? Because you don’t look fine.”

  She smiled. “I’m sure.”

  He still didn’t look convinced. “Okay. Give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared into the short hallway that led to his bedroom.

  She walked around a little more. Maybe she’d offer to clean the place. It would help her keep her mind off her problems with Daniel. She checked her phone to see if she’d missed any texts.

  Nothing.

  She stuffed her phone into her back pocket, pulled off her hoodie, and tossed it on the couch. In the small kitchen, a protein shake canister sat uncovered. A glass with the remnants of a shake sat next to it. She found the lid to the canister and was wetting a paper towel when she heard laughter outside.

  Curious, she walked to the living room window and pushed the curtains aside. Two little dark-haired girls wearing backpacks were heading down the sidewalk. Mia watched them until they were out of view. She was about to leave the window and return to cleaning when something else caught her eye.

  She froze.

  Parked two cars behind her Jetta was an older-model black Suburban. A man was sitting in the driver’s seat. She could only see his profile, but she was pretty sure she’d seen him somewhere before. She racked her brain, trying to place him. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see the man more clearly.

  Christian poked his head into the living room, buttoning his shirt. “Want to go grab breakfast somewhere?” he asked.

  No, completely out of the question.

  “I have training today for the new job. But I can make it work if we are quick,” he said.

  No, she just wanted to be with him. In this house. Even if it was just for a few minutes. Being with him calmed her. But she couldn’t go out in public with him.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here.”

  “Okay. Whatever you want. Give me a sec. I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time.”

  She peered out the window again and studied the guy in the car. Then she realized who he looked like.

  Daniel’s friend, Billy.

  She frowned, wondering if it was possible. She was squinting, trying to see the guy more clearly, when the guy suddenly turned his head toward her.

  It was Billy.

  She wasn’t being paranoid at all.

  “Oh, no.”

  As if the man sensed he’d been spotted, the SUV roared to life and shot down the street.

  Mia grabbed her hoodie. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit!” she whispered, her lungs heaving.

  Christian walked into the living room, smelling of spicy aftershave. “Hey. What’s going on?”

  She grabbed her purse, gave him a quick kiss, and hurried to the door. “Sorry. I’ve got to go.”

  CHAPTER 33

  DANIEL

  DANIEL HIT MIA on speed dial and waited for her to pick up. She answered on the third ring.

  “Hey,” she said, sounding out of breath.

  He tried to ignore the anger and hurt he was feeling toward her, to compartmentalize for now. To focus first and foremost on finding out more about the brown envelope. “I found a brown envelope in the kitchen this morning,” he said. “Where did it come from?”

  “I found it on the doorstep.”

  “Did you see who left it?”

  “No.”

  He quickly explained what he’d found inside and told her that it was probably just a ploy to scare him, nothing to be overly concerned about, but to keep the doors locked just in case.

  “Jesus,” she replied. “Yes. Of course.”

  Daniel ended the call without saying goodbye, then slipped his phone into the pocket of his lab coat.

  For most of the morning, his patients asked about the protesters. Teddy had instructed the staff to say very little. To tell only the parents who asked that the protestors were misinformed, that Respira was completely safe and to leave it at that.

  Behind the closed doors of the examination
rooms, though, Daniel urged his patients to do their own research before making a decision about the drug. He encouraged them to start at GetTheFactsAboutRespira.com since the webmaster had curated so much helpful information. But for many parents that wasn’t enough. They didn’t want to read the information. They wanted a professional recommendation. He told those parents that his recommendation would be to skip it. He knew that if word got back to Teddy about what he was doing, he’d be fired on the spot. But as scary as that was, he had no choice. If he lied and another child was injured, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

  He was going to put in his resignation, but it needed to wait another day or two. It was a difficult thing to do after all the hard work and sacrifice he’d put in over the last several years, but he couldn’t—wouldn’t—inject another child until he had sufficient evidence that it was safe to do so. He needed to come up with a plan before resigning.

  Between aggressively paying off his student loans the last two years, what he’d spent on his recent honeymoon, and the loan he’d let Mia have for her “friend,” he wasn’t very liquid. He’d have to sell the house, but that would take some time. Plus, if he didn’t line up another job quickly, he could lose even more. Everything he’d worked so hard his entire adult life to build was on the line.

  He was with a patient when he heard Teddy’s voice from the front of the office. He was screaming at the top of his lungs at someone.

  “I’ll be right back, okay?” Daniel said to his patient’s mother and hurried from the examination room.

  As Daniel weaved through the patients and practitioners peeking out from the various examination rooms, he saw Teddy charging toward a redheaded woman, his arm thrust forward. “Get the hell out of my practice. Now!” he screamed.

  What the hell?

  What was going on—and why was Teddy behaving this way, especially in front of a clinic full of patients?