Silent Epidemic (Book 1 - Carol Freeman Series)

by Jill Province

  Charles looked around the room and noticed the way everyone was looking at him. 

  “Bad night," he explained sheepishly. 

  “What if the rest of the payees demand the same thing?" Jeff threw in.   

  “We will make it a point in the agreement," Paul interjected.  “Acceptance of the settlement will imply complete confidentiality." 

  “Sounds like you already planned to recommend this," Sam said. 

  “We really have no choice," the attorney explained. 

  “Then if we are all agreed," Sam said, pausing for feedback.  Everyone nodded, including a very reluctant CEO.  “Make the deal," he concluded to Paul.

  “Now, please define a half witness?" Sam asked. 

  “It seems we have a split decision at the Brian Carter residence.  The primary witness works for the AJC and he isn’t budging." 

  “So that’s it then, isn’t it?" Jeff asked.  

  Paul began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

  “Seems that Mrs. Carter is willing to come forward as a witness to the witness." 

  “Huh?" Sam said. 

  “She contacted me this morning," the attorney continued. “She said she could verify Carter’s story but would refrain from doing so if we made the same agreement with her…confidentially." 

  “She wants the same settlement - not to collaborate her husband’s story?" Sam asked incredulously.  “Next thing we know we’ll be paying off the neighbors to keep quiet." 

  “Yes, I found the whole thing quite humorous," Pratt agreed, “except this clever woman came up with an additional offer." 

  “I can’t wait to hear this," Jeff interjected. 

  “She’s willing to testify that her husband is a hypochondriac, and that he had complained of similar issues before he ever got involved with us.”

  “Similar issues?" Sam repeated. “How could there have been passed similar issues?" 

  “Oh, the standard aches and pains," Paul explained.  “Doctors repeatedly screwing him up… That sort of thing." 

  “How can her testimony be confidential?" Margie questioned. 

  “It’s part of her demand," Paul said.  “She will only come forward if we promise to conduct her deposition – and testimony, if it comes to that – in complete secrecy." 

  “But isn’t the list of witnesses public record?" Sam questioned. 

    “Judge’s discretion.  We might only be able to use her affidavit as leverage.  Once it goes further than that, we might not be able to protect her anonymity.”

  “What kind of person testifies that her husband is nuts?" Margie blurted out, no longer able to contain her thoughts. 

  “This one would," Paul stated.  “If you had been there to see how her eyes lit up when I mentioned the money, you’d understand the motive.”

  “Okay," Sam said, trying to regain some focus.  “We are not going to pay one hundred thousand dollars for this, but see if she’ll go for a smaller settlement in increments… Say, ten thousand for her affidavit, and fifteen thousand each for her deposition and testimony." 

  “That would make sense," Paul agreed.  “We won’t know how the judge will rule on her anonymity until we reach those points in the process." 

  “How’s the phone contact going with the volunteers?" Sam directed to Margie. 

  “It took most of the past few days to channel all of them back to Pharmlab," she stated, “but of the ones I’ve contacted so far, we have been able to get by with minimal payoffs."  

  “Good," Sam agreed.  “Let’s try to keep it that way.  We obviously have some very expensive witnesses.  Anyone else have a fire?" he questioned, looking around the room.  No one spoke up.  “Okay then, were adjourned."

     

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

      

  Michelle Roman was a nervous wreck.  She hadn’t been on a date in over fifteen years and besides, this wasn’t a date.  She had to keep reminding herself of this on the drive to LaSalle’s.  She’d only been to the restaurant one other time and remembered it being warm and full of charming atmosphere.  A little less warmth and charm might have been a better choice.  She pulled into the parking lot and found a space close to the entrance.

  Mark Randall was already seated and waved to her as she walked through the door.  He’d nailed down a quiet table off to one side of the room.  As Michelle approached, he stood to give her a hug.  

  “You’re looking lovely as usual," he said, as he held out her chair. 

  “And you look lovely, too," Michelle laughed.  She could feel the color quickly rising to her face. 

  The two sat exchanging small talk until the waiter came to take their drink order.  “How about a bottle of wine?" Mark suggested. 

  “How about a glass?" she countered.  “I still have to drive." 

  “Two glasses of your best white," he told the waiter.  Turning back to his client, he said, “So, how’s the new residence working out for you?" 

  “Peaceful," she answered.  “Peggy is my best friend and a divorce survivor so it has been a good ‘safe house’ to camp out in.” 

  “Good," Mark agreed.  “Most people stay in the house out of spite, or stubbornness, but they end up making themselves miserable just to prove a point." 

  “And what’s that?”  

  “I guess it’s that no one is going to make them leave their own house, especially the enemy." 

  “Too bad it has to come to that," she said reflectively. 

  “There is too much emotion tied to a divorce for it not to come to that," the attorney interjected. 

  “I suppose you’re right," Michelle said, reaching for the wine glass that had just arrived. 

  “Wait," Mark said, picking up his glass.  “Here’s to a speedy and painless solution."  They both drank to the toast. 

  “Oh, and speaking of speedy," Michelle said. “Here are the copies of the credit card bills."  

  Mark looked them over and whistled. 

  “Our friend was a very busy guy."  

  Michelle took a few more sips of her wine. 

  “This is just a sample of how busy he was."  

  “How did you manage to hang in there for this long?"

  “Stupidity," she began.  “You tell yourself that the person really does love you and that these affairs are meaningless, blah blah blah…. In the end, you wake up and wonder what happened to your self-esteem and half your life.  We tell ourselves a lot of things to get through the day that aren’t true.  I guess I have a new policy about that." 

  “What’s that?"  

  “No more rationalizing," Michelle stated. 

  “Good luck," the attorney laughed.  “I don’t know anyone who doesn’t need a good rationalization now and then." 

  “It’s a worthy goal anyway," Michelle countered.

  The waiter returned for their lunch order, and Michelle could still hear her own words echoing in her head.  She really had spent most of her life as a dreamer. She’d wanted to live in a fairy tale so badly that she had created a fantasy world.  The self-deceit required to survive in such a world had cost her too many years of her life.  No matter how badly she wanted a happy ending, bad situations would always result in bad outcomes.  Michelle made a decision.  She ordered a seafood salad and a new attitude.  She was no longer going to follow her emotions to their obvious destructive conclusion.  The man was married.  What the hell was she thinking?  She watched the attorney complete his order to the waiter.  He was strikingly handsome and totally unavailable.  She would conduct the rest of this luncheon as a business meeting.  She had met with her attorney, nothing more. 

     

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

   

  Carol sat at the kitchen table with attorney Paul Pratt.  He had brought over a settlement agreement for Carol to sign and an implied check for
two hundred thousand dollars.  Josh stood behind her as she read the fine print of the contract.  She had a hard time staying focused on the paper.  Inwardly, she was celebrating hers and Brian’s victory.  This money would allow her to recover, and maybe give something back to the community.  She hadn’t even approached Josh yet about her new ambition.  She was so far away from physically being able to meet the challenge that it did not even merit a discussion.

  Carol reached for her reading glasses.  Her vision had rapidly deteriorated in the past six months, a possible side effect of taking the medication.  Carol didn’t know for sure, but there had been a strong correlation between the time she had started taking the drug and the steady decrease in her vision.  She began to go over each line methodically.  The stipulations came as no surprise to her.  She was expected to drop all current and future charges against Dominex Pharmaceuticals.  The agreed sum was to be kept strictly confidential and at no time was she free to discuss the study with any outside source.  Dominex was shutting her down.

  The contract went on to outline the consequences of any breach of the above stipulations.  If Carol violated the agreement, she was bound to refund all monies paid with interest.  Carol turned to Josh and said, “What’s twenty-one percent of two hundred thousand dollars?"  

  Josh had been right behind her reading the same paragraph. 

  “More than you want to pay Dominex," he countered.  

  Carol continued reading until she hit the last paragraph. 

  “What’s this about endorsements?” Carol asked skeptically.  

  Pratt was expecting an argument about the last point in the contract.  He had warned Sam that she would never go for this and might actually throw the contract in his face at this point in the negotiation.

  “We would like to count on your support, should we require it in the future.”  

  Carol just looked at him in disbelief.  

  “The company feels," Paul continued, “that that is a small request in light of the sum they are paying you."  

  Carol just shook her head. 

  “There is no way I am going to provide any endorsements," Carol stated adamantly.  “And trust me, if we don’t strike some sort of agreement with the same figures I will have no problem telling the world about what you are doing in graphic detail."  

  Paul knew she meant what she said. 

  “Okay," he conceded, “we’ll strike through that last point."  The attorney drew an X through the last paragraph and initialed it.  Carol signed her entire name by it and looked up at Josh.  He gave her a subtle nod.  She went to the bottom of the page and signed the agreement and then handed the paper to Josh to sign as a witness.

  “Fine," the attorney said, folding the contract and placing it in his brief case.  He then removed a thick envelope and handed it to Carol.  She gasped when she opened it.  They had paid her two hundred thousand dollars in cash.  Confused, she looked at the attorney for an explanation.  “We just thought you might not want to pay tax on this."  Pratt smiled at her and went out the door.

  “What the hell is this?" Carol said to Josh. 

  “Tax, my ass," he interjected.  “They don’t want any record of having paid you off.” 

  “What slime bags," she said incredulously.  Josh just nodded in agreement.  

      

  Next on Paul’s agenda was a meeting with Pam Carter at an agreed location.  He expected her to be wearing a wig and dark sunglasses by the way she’d sounded on the phone.  Apparently, her husband had left to go on an errand – something he rarely did – giving her the opportunity to complete their transaction.

  Paul found the bar and grill that Pam designated as a meeting place and pulled into the parking lot.  This was obviously more of a nighttime hang out.  There were very few cars parked in front of the place.  When the attorney entered the establishment, he understood why Pam had chosen it.  It was so dark inside that he had a hard time even finding the party he was looking for.  If one were having an affair, this would be the classic meeting place.  Paul had to literally walk from table to table to find the person he was looking for.  Several of the patrons stared back at him, showing their disapproval at having the unspoken space rule violated.

  Pam finally looked up from her hiding place and waved at him.  

  “Nice place," Paul said sarcastically. 

  “It has its purpose," she countered.  

  Paul could imagine what that purpose might have been.  He neither liked nor respected this individual, but she was a means to an end.  In some respect, she reminded him of himself.  Pam was a real cutie with a heart of steel.  She was a perfect five foot eight and weighed about one-oh-five.  Her curly black hair was cut short and softly framed her large brown eyes.  If Paul hadn’t already had the pleasure of interacting with her, he would have considered her to be a knock out.  But after his initial encounter he could only see a sellout.

  “Here is the affidavit," he announced, taking the sheets out of his briefcase.  “Go ahead and read it over before signing.”  Paul sat in the dingy bar, hoping that Pam was a fast reader.  It was just a matter of time before a large roach or rodent would find his corner of the room.

  Pam pulled out a flashlight and began reading.  The woman had come prepared.  The affidavit was a direct reflection of the words she’d dictated to Paul’s secretary, with minor adjustments to meet the language requirements of the document.  It stated that Brian Carter was her husband and that she believed him to be a hypochondriac.  It further stated that Brian Carter had a long history of dissatisfaction with doctors when they refused to provide him with the medications he wanted.  The document outlined prior doctor visits and dates that had been supplied by Pam.  The information was all hearsay and more than likely would not hold up in a court of law without a credible witness.  Paul wasn’t sure what kind of a witness she would make, but the affidavit might be a strong enough tool for some initial leverage.  If the AJC believed that the witness had the potential to discredit them, they might be willing to print the retraction and pay a respectable fine.  The retraction was all Dominex wanted. 

  Pam reached the end of the document and said she was fine with the wording.  Paul handed her a pen and began looking around the room to find a witness. “Not so fast," Pam interjected.  “Where’s the money?"  

  Paul smiled at her, and thought, For an extra few dollars, I bet you’d put him away for good.  Of course he did not verbalize that thought.  Instead, he pulled the envelope out of his briefcase and removed its contents. 

  “See?  It’s all here."  Pam happily picked up the pen and signed the document.  Paul was still looking for a witness.  No one but the bar staff was even approachable and Paul settled for the waitress.  When he held up Pam’s empty glass, she came over to the table.  “Would you like a refill?" the waitress asked.  Paul looked to Pam for a response.  She shook her head, anxious to get her money and escape. 

  “Nothing, I guess," Paul responded, “but you could do one thing for me."  He explained what he wanted while the waitress looked at him skeptically, but agreed to sign as witness.

  Paul tucked the document away and handed the envelope to Pam.  “We’ll contact you if the next step is required." 

  “If?" Pam questioned. 

  “Yes, we’re hoping that this affidavit will persuade the paper to retract their story.  But if not, then we’ll file a motion with the judge to suppress your identity.” 

  “I won’t attend the deposition without that," Pam reminded him.  Paul assured her that he was clear on her terms.  “Well," she said, holding up the envelope, “nice doing business with you so far."  

  Paul nodded to her as she stood and went swiftly out the door. 

  “The pleasure was all yours," he said under his breath. 

  The waitress handed him the bill for Pam’s drink and he pulled out a
five-dollar bill.  “Keep it," he told her.  He hoped this would be the last time he had to visit the “roach bar and grill.”  Paul pulled out his cell phone and dialed Sam’s direct number.  “We have the bait."

     

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

      

  Sheila had been keeping a low profile.  She didn’t know what the company was up to or how they planned to submit the data for the research study.  They certainly couldn’t get by with the data they had.  It was disastrous.  She just knew that, once removed from her position, she would be powerless to go in for the final kill.   

  It was strange, after all this time, that Jerry was still worried about keeping his position.  She’d never had any intention of remaining there once her job was done.  But Jerry had signed on for the entire adventure and, as far as she was concerned, would be better off without this company.  If successful in this new endeavor, Dominex would become the ultimate parasites, living off the addiction they would create.

  Jerry had begged her to stay out of Dominex’s way unless he was there to protect her.  But she had been a one-man band for so long, she could not relinquish that control.  Sheila logged into her computer and wondered where the study data might be hiding.  Everything she had seen had been on hard copy, and if computer files had been created, she had no knowledge of them.  Sheila clicked on “Research and Development," and then typed in her password.  The list of files was staggering and each one was labeled with abbreviated words that made no sense to her.  This is long shot, she thought, and accessed a file called KEP/TECH.EXE.  The data outlined the research completion date and the upgrade to a time-release formula for a drug called Keplex.  The scientific explanation of the drug’s prescribing information was way over her head, but she was able to surmise that the drug was primarily used as an anti-inflammatory.  She went back to the menu and attempted to find a similar file for Suprame.  She assumed she would be looking for something labeled SUP/TECH.EXE.  The files were listed in order alphabetically.  Scrolling down to the “S’s," she could find nothing even remotely resembling a file for Suprame. 

  The previous file might not have been created until after the market date, and even then, did not provide any details about the research itself.  This isn’t it.  Sheila went into the search mode and asked for all the files on the hard drive.  She was no more able to decipher the computer babble on this screen then she had been on the previous one.  Sheila decided to try a search with the key words “research data."  The computer told her that no files had been found.