CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
FRIDAY, MARCH 6
Laura had the best sleep she’d had in weeks, not having woken until her alarm sounded. Her hand hurt less. Her mind had slowed down. She felt profound relief after the conversation with Lonnie Greenwood. Last thing before falling asleep, she’d called Tim. She now knew she needed to tell him what had happened in that desolate parking lot in Detroit twenty-five years ago. He deserved to know. She hoped he’d still love and respect her. But first, she needed to tell her children about David Monroe and Patrick’s paternity. For as long as she’d known Tim, she’d been trapped in a web of interlocking secrets. Before he married her, he had a right to know what she’d kept hidden for all those years.
Laura called Tim from the phone in the hotel bedroom at seven o’clock. No answer. He’d be scrubbed at CHOP by now, reviewing the operative procedure with his surgical team. He was the senior pediatric cardiac surgeon, a source of pride for him, as it will be for her as his wife. Fourteen years ago, Tim had operated on Patrick, when Laura’s youngest child had been nine years old, with a cardiac tumor. A benign tumor; to this day, Laura still felt the flush of relief on hearing the miraculous word benign.
And today, Tim would save the life of another young child. As much as she’d like him with her in Rockville to share her moment in the spotlight, he was the real hero back home in Philadelphia. And yes, Laura thought with a smile, Philadelphia was now her home.
Laura had ordered room-service breakfast for her and Addie to be delivered at seven forty-five. Before Laura headed for the shower, she peeked into the parlor where Addie slept on the ample sofa.
“Seven o’clock,” she called out, even though Addie was already up, reviewing her notes at the small table. “I’m going to shower.”
“Okay, Laura,” Addie said. “I figured I’d better at least read through what I’m supposed to say.”
That’s the least of your problems, Laura thought. To Addie she said, “You’ll be stellar.”
“I can’t tell you how much better I feel after talking to your son Mike last night, and signing the papers that he faxed. After the press conference, I feel comfortable leaving, knowing my Immunone money will be secure.”
Laura worried about Addie leaving the United States to return to terrorist-oriented Iraq. But had her own father been ill, she knew she’d risk considerable danger to go to him. Still, Addie’s safety concerned her. Was there anything more she could do for this charming, bright young woman?
By the time Laura appeared, showered and dressed in a trim turquoise suit, breakfast was being set up in the parlor. Addie remained in the bathroom until the bellman left, then emerged, looking fantastic in yesterday’s clothes, now laundered and pressed.
Together, in near silence, the two women sipped coffee or tea, nibbled croissants, and drank orange juice, as each reviewed her own press conference prep notes one last time.
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
FRIDAY, MARCH 6
Tim’s flight landed on time at Washington National Airport, leaving him a scant hour to get to Rockville for the Immunone press event. He’d known Laura wanted him there—but she’d never ask him to postpone a critical surgical procedure on a child. He grinned at the thought of surprising her.
He’d arrived at CHOP to find his small patient had developed an ear infection. Not a big deal in a kid—except for a kid facing surgery. A bacterial infection in a patient posed an unacceptable surgical risk. Treat for twenty-four hours with intravenous antibiotics, Tim’s team of doctors agreed. Then reassess the risk—other complications that can arise from a bacterial infection could mean serious cardiac risk—and tomorrow morning, a difficult decision. But for now, Tim was free to catch the eight o’clock flight out of Philly to DC.
After the excitement of the press conference, Tim knew, Laura’s attention quickly would shift to the revelation to her kids planned for tonight. She’d obsess, he feared, consider each kid, try to predict each reaction, try to predict her reaction to their reactions. But obsessing only would confuse matters. She must simply speak her heart. Her children loved and respected her, Tim judged. They’d be shocked, yes—but vindictive? Not their style.
But what if he misjudged them, and they deeply hurt her? As much as he wanted to protect Laura, he felt helpless. After her press conference, he’d be there with her, try his best to keep her distracted. For Laura, it was, and always had been, about her devotion to family. Realistically, he still felt like the outsider with his nose pressed to the glass, wanting Laura’s love, and coveting the privilege of joining the family. But tonight, would a twenty-year-old secret be the death of the close-knit Nelson family unit? Finally, he had to admit, he couldn’t predict.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
FRIDAY, MARCH 6
Riding with Laura in the Keystone Pharma limo to the press conference site, the FDA Parklawn Building, Addie steeled herself for a conversation with Priscilla Fabre. Once they arrived, she searched for Priscilla among the group of milling employees. The tall woman was easy to spot, and to Addie’s great relief, Priscilla seemed genuinely glad to see her. Didn’t even mention that she’d disappeared from work yesterday, and never called. Replica’s press materials highlighted her appearance. Had she not shown up, they’d have been embarrassed. Or, maybe, a smart lawyer would have made her presence a condition of giving her the money. Didn’t matter. She was here.
“Priscilla,” Addie had to take a breath, “I must leave for home tonight. Since I am technically an employee as of the date when Immunone was approved, I want to make sure the money set aside, as per my contract, will come to me.”
“I know how worried you are about your father, and I’m so grateful the timing worked out for you. I’ve been in touch with legal. I’ve confirmed that the funds due you will be distributed shortly. But if you’re going to be out of town, you should give us instructions. Would you prefer a direct deposit, or to have the money wired? It’s a very large amount.”
So, Replica was not going to give her a hard time. Addie could almost relax. After talking to Laura’s son, Mike, into the late hours last night, she knew her rights, but, nevertheless, it was gratifying to know a lawsuit wouldn’t be necessary. An American court would always favor a big company over an individual. Last night, she had signed her power of attorney relative to all financial affairs involving US dollars to Michael Nelson. He was a lawyer with a big firm, and she had Laura’s assurance she could be confident her contract would be honored. Michael had confirmed the $7.5 million total would be diminished by whatever taxes were due, but no matter how Addie looked at it, she was a wealthy woman. Would she ever come to need or appreciate that wealth? She didn’t know.
Addie had always assumed Dru would manage her finances, and then Jake after they were married, but now she was on her own, her financial life delegated to Laura’s son. The relevant documents all had been faxed or e-mailed back and forth through the hotel’s twenty-four-hour business center. Addie reached into her purse and removed an envelope.
“Mr. Nelson has prepared my resignation letter.” She handed the envelope to Priscilla: “It’s effective tomorrow.”
Priscilla accepted the envelope. “We’ll miss you,” she said, stepping up to hug Addie. Then Priscilla turned to the podium. “Time to shine…”
When it was her turn, Addie went to the podium, adjusted the microphone, and spoke directly into it. She’d memorized the script Replica had given her. As she paused at appropriate intervals, she glanced around the crowd. She’d never imagined so many cameras and video recorders. As she concluded her remarks, she stepped back as planned. Laura, representing Keystone Pharma, and the FDA commissioner would follow her. Questions and answers would come at the end.
To save her family, Addie now knew she would return to Baghdad to take her father’s place. Knowing her mother’s wishes would be fulfilled, could she still get on the plane? She’d have to marry Gabir Rahman. But in her new scientific role, Addie would do all she dared to sa
botage bioweapons of mass destruction, to limit the impact of terrorism. Her father was a kind and gentle man. Could he covertly have had the same intentions? She’d never even considered that possibility. Maybe taking his place could extend that legacy—
Addie’s thoughts were interrupted by a question addressed to her. She hadn’t even registered what Laura and the FDA had said. It must be time for the Q&A. And the first question had been directed at her. The FDA staffer coordinating the conference asked the reporter to repeat the question.
“Dr. Abdul, when you first discovered the Immunone chemical,” a reporter asked, “did you know how important it would be in transplant rejection?”
One of the anticipated questions on her list from Replica. The answer: “No, but she’s so gratified,” etcetera.
The Q&A continued with only one further question directed to Addie. “What new medications is Replica working on?” Addie had the easy answer: “Antibiotics for resistant bacteria, and growth factors for hematopoietic bone marrow cells—to treat leukemia.”
While the press packed up their equipment, Addie and Laura stood talking to the FDA staff. As long as she stayed in a cluster of people, Addie felt safe. So far, she’d not seen a sign of Jake, but she kept scanning the periphery. Maybe she’d get out of the building without him finding her. As the crowd dwindled, the Keystone Pharma attendees, including their CEO, Paul Parnell, gathered in a circle around Laura. Addie felt marginalized and vulnerable. Time for her to thank Laura and say good-bye.
Addie planned to take a cab to Washington National. She had tickets to London Heathrow, booked under her own name. Dru had told her that after the United Nations had imposed restrictions on Iraq following the Gulf War, the United States and the United Kingdom established a no-fly zone for the country. Dru’s solution: fly Royal Jordanian Airlines from London to Amman, Jordan, and then on to Baghdad. That’s how he’d done it. He warned her not to use her own name when traveling to Jordan or Iraq. If she did, she might not get back into the US. She had no alternative now, other than to buy her own ticket revealing her true identity. But did that still matter?
Of course, Addie dreamed the United States and Iraq would one day become allies, and their citizens would travel freely between countries. Only a dream, but if her dream came true, she would be a very rich woman. Michael Nelson had explained how her money would grow in value.
Inching closer to Laura to say good-bye, Addie remembered the DIA agents saying they still might need to talk to her. Were they following her, she wondered? Agent Sharkey had seen her airline ticket to London. Would they show up at the airport? Had they checked her apartment? Found Dru? She could not answer these questions. She’d follow her plan; go to the airport.
Laura turned to hug Addie when she approached. “We’re all headed for the airport, Addie. How about you? What did you decide?”
“I have a flight to London, early evening,” she said. “Laura, I can’t thank you enough—”
All of a sudden, Laura rushed out of her embrace toward a tall man with red hair walking straight toward them, a wide smile on his face.
“Tim!” Laura pulled him into a hug, kissing his cheek. “You came? What about your patient?”
“Had to postpone,” he said. “You were great, Laura. I watched it all.”
The man turned toward Addie, “And, Dr. Abdul, you were fantastic. Laura’s been telling me a lot about you.”
“Tim, meet Addie—Doctor Adawia Abdul. Addie, this is Tim Robinson, my fiancé.”
Tim looked ecstatic to see Laura and slung his arm around her left shoulder. Pointing to the Keystone contingent, he said, “I wanted to say hello to Paul Parnell. Thank him for convincing you to stay in Philadelphia.”
Laura grinned. “Okay. Come on. Addie, you come too.”
Again, Addie looked around, expecting to see Jake, fearing having to face him. Maybe she should ask Laura for a ride to the airport. There’d be room in that stretch limo. Once she got to National, there’d be plenty of security, and she could blend in with the passengers at the crowded airport.
CHAPTER SEVENTY
FRIDAY, MARCH 6
Jake watched the press conference from the seclusion of the small utility closet off the lobby. The acoustics were perfect, as was his angle of vision to the podium. He heard each of Addie’s words. He realized her remarks would have been written by her superiors at Replica, but even so, he was extremely disappointed that in her acknowledgments, she hadn’t mentioned him. An easy matter to just slip his name onto the prepared list. But she hadn’t. While she’d been speaking, every nerve in his body screamed for him to go to her, to stand beside her, to gather her up, and to escort her to the waiting Blazer. But he’d grasped the edge of the door and held back. Soon. Very soon, he told himself.
Jake scoured the crowd for Detectives Booker and Finley. He knew they were looking for him. Why else would a cop car be stationed outside his house on each of the two occasions he’d risked a drive by? Cops hanging out around his Jeep and his home were not a good sign. And if they’d found that Arab’s body where he’d stashed it in Addie’s apartment building, all the more reason for Jake to be cautious. The cops knew about him and Addie, and they knew about Addie and the Arab; they must be close. So far, Jake hadn’t spotted them, but he did notice a man and a woman lingering close to the podium, their attention on Addie. After she completed her statement, he noticed the dark-skinned woman take a step toward Addie, but the man’s hand shot out to pull her back. Those two did not look like reporters. They looked like law enforcement.
Jake glanced at his watch. This would be all over in a half hour. Tonight, he and Addie would be bundled up in their campsite, eating dinner by an open fire.
Next up was Dr. Laura Nelson. The source of his grief. Just let it go, he told himself. Don’t let the Nelson bitch alter your focus. Concentrate on Addie. Yes, he’d vowed to make Nelson pay for humiliating him and for trying to turn Addie against him, and he had already had decided on a time and a place.
Nelson droned on about what a wonderful job her predecessor, Fred Minn—God rest his soul—had done, and so on and so forth. The wonders of Immunone—She put on an air of false modesty, but self-promotion was her game. Couldn’t fool him. His hand reached into his jacket pocket, felt the Glock, ached to pull it out, aim at the bitch, and pull the trigger. “No, not now. Wrong place.” When he heard his own whisper, he realized he’d spoken aloud.
After Nelson, it was time for the FDA Commissioner to do his own version of self-aggrandizement, and then the FDA public relations machine fielded press questions and answers. Never once in the entire press conference was he, Jake Harter, mentioned, the project manager for the wonder drug Immunone. Kudos to Sid Casey, his boss Charles Sloan, acclamation for the medical review officers—the obnoxious Susan Ridley and the wimpy Karl Hayes—but none for Jake, who’d directed the entire prolonged process, from the drug’s Investigational New Drug submission to today’s approval of the New Drug Application.
Again, his hand went to the Glock. This time, he clutched the handle. Laura Nelson had taken his job, his dignity, besmirched his reputation. He should be sharing the podium, but here he was, cowering in a closet.
Then the press conference ended and the bright lights extinguished. Jake stayed put, letting the media trickle out. Naturally, the speakers were surrounded by their supporters. The big shots at the FDA were accustomed to the ass-kissers, wanting a word, a chance to push their causes with the upper echelon, not understanding that at the FDA, the project managers were the real seat of power. Nothing goes anywhere unless the project manager gives the green light. Except this time, when Laura Nelson had stepped all over him. “Fuck it,” he muttered, as he stepped out of the closet and moved with the crowd toward the lobby exit.
Jake hung by the exit leading from the lobby, through a short hall to the outer door of the building. Since the FDA staff would head inside toward offices upstairs, he wasn’t worried about being recognized. Monitoring the dimi
nishing circle of well-wishers still at the podium, Jake saw a tall, redheaded man in a brown suit approach Nelson. When she noticed him, Nelson rushed to hug him, and then to Jake’s dismay, she turned to introduce him to Addie. They appeared to chat, then the three of them made their way to the Keystone group gathered around the guy Jake recognized as the company CEO. Jake fumed at the sight of Addie with Laura Nelson. What kind of pull did Nelson exert on her? Whatever it was, the woman soon would regret it. Five minutes later, the three of them left the group and strode together toward him and the exit, talking, but not loud enough for him to hear. Not wanting to intercept Addie while they were still inside the building, Jake stepped out the door ahead of them. This was where he had decided to take Addie, but according to his plan, she should be alone.
“I appreciate the ride to the airport,” Jake heard Addie say as she stepped through the door.
The sight of Addie with Nelson, acting chummy, like girlfriends, so infuriated Jake that he yanked the Glock out of his pocket. Driven by a white rage he could no longer subdue, he pointed the barrel at Nelson.
They were so busy chatting they hadn’t seen him, walked right past him. Wearing a bulky jacket, a black knit cap pulled down close to his eyes, and wearing dark sunglasses, he’d not so much as caught Addie’s eyes as she passed within six feet of him, where he’d stood on the sidewalk, just off their path.
“The driver can drop you at the main terminal just after he leaves us by the private jets’ field,” Nelson was saying, “but won’t you come back to Philly with us? You can meet my son and…”
Jake passed the trio as they walked toward a black stretch limo. With the gun trained on Nelson, he stepped in front of them, blocking their path. Not seeing the gun at first, not recognizing him, they came to a stop.
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