Silent Epidemic (Book 1 - Carol Freeman Series)

by Jill Province

  There was a light tap on his door, and his secretary popped her head in a five-inch opening.  “Mr. Manning," she whispered, “there’s someone here to see you." David ended the call he was listening to and looked at her for more information.  “Sorry to interrupt, but the phone line has been busy for a long time.” 

  “That’s okay," David told her.  “I was only monitoring the calls." 

  “I figured that," his secretary said, opening the door wider.  “There’s a Sheila Montgomery here to see you."  

  David repeated the name and gave her an absent look. 

  “I give up," he said finally, “who is she?" 

  “She said she is with Dominex."  

  David just groaned and put his head in his hands. 

  “Those vultures won’t be happy until I have a stroke.  Please tell her that I’m not done with the analysis and won’t be seeing anyone from Dominex until I’m finished.” 

  “You got it," she said cheerfully, and closed the door.

  David punched the code into his phone, and continued listening to the depressing dialogue.  He was in the process of fishing out one more aspirin, when his secretary reappeared.  David disconnected the call and looked up.  “What?" he prompted. 

  “Mr. Manning, she said she really has to see you and that you’ll be glad you met with her." 

  “What the hell, it can’t possibly get any worse."

  “Mr. Manning will see you now," the girl announced from the doorway, and went back to her desk, leaving the door open for Sheila. 

  “Thanks for seeing me," Sheila said, as she made her way into his office.  

  David just nodded. 

  “What can I do for you?" he said flatly. 

  “Mr. Manning, the question today is, what can I do for you?"  

  David sat up and looked at the woman seated in front of him.  She was beautiful and energetic. And something else caught his attention.  She was holding a thick business size envelope.

  Without another word, Sheila happily presented David Manning with the only thing that was going to allow him to retire in peace.  “What’s this?" he asked, opening the envelope.  Sheila didn’t answer him.  One packet of information was worth a thousand words.  “This is a list of five hundred research volunteers," he stated. 

  “And there’s something more about this list that you should know," Sheila offered.  David looked up at her hopefully. 

  “I don’t recognize a single name," he said.  

  Sheila nodded. 

  “That’s because this is the real list of volunteers.  And it documents each individual’s true responses throughout the study.”  

  “They gave me a list of five hundred people who weren’t in the study?" he asked incredulously. 

  “Bingo."

  Suddenly everything made sense.  The glowing reports from every person they contacted had been that way for good reason.  It had all been staged.  The fact that no one had wanted to see him face-to-face was not due to paranoia.  No one had wanted to lie to him in person.  “Where did you get this?" he asked, as if she had just handed him a life raft in the middle of a raging sea. 

  “I compiled the original data," she said simply.  “And then after the study was under way, they apparently got very creative." 

  “Looks that way," David said, still in shock from the realization. 

  “We continued to keep our own records," she announced proudly.

  Dominex Pharmaceuticals had substituted a whole new set of supposed volunteers in place of the real ones.  The devastation of sedative withdrawal had been replaced with five hundred happy, healthy people.  

  “Miss Montgomery," David began, “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I can’t thank you enough." 

  “It’s Sheila," she corrected him, “and believe me, the pleasure is all mine."  

  David got up to shake her hand, and in all the excitement, ended up hugging her instead.  

  “Have a great retirement," she said on her way out the door. 

  “How did you know about that?" he yelled after her.  Sheila stopped and turned around to face him. 

  “I pretty much know everything."  David watched her leave with a huge smile on his face.  This woman had turned out to be his guardian angel.  

  Sheila thanked David’s secretary, as she walked by. 

  “You’re welcome," she said, reaching for the stack the mailroom clerk was handing her.  

  Funny, Sheila thought.  That guy looks familiar.  She was too elated to ponder the issue and went to the elevator.  The mail handler watched her leave.

      

  Coming out of his stupor, David quickly grabbed his phone and dialed Winston’s extension.  He was obviously on a call and David didn’t want to wait.  Instead, he scooped the packet off his desk and ran out the door.  

  “Mr. Manning," his secretary yelled after him.  “Are you okay?" 

  “Never better," he yelled back, and did a double heal click on his way down the hall.

   

      

  Chapter 28

   

  Everything at Dominex Pharmaceuticals was back to normal.  The management team was having a pre-celebratory breakfast at the downtown Hilton Hotel in honor of the end of their study.  The insanity was over and the newspaper lawsuit was fading into a bad memory.  “The great thing about the public,” Pratt said, setting down his coffee mug, “is that people don’t seem to have much in the way of long term memory.  Once we get our final approval from the FDA, no one will remember that story in the paper.” 

  “Let’s hope so," Sam agreed.

  “We should be hearing something from Manning sometime this week," Jeff interjected, “and we’ll have Suprame on the shelf within a month." 

  “I’ll drink to that," Charles said, holding up his bloody Mary.  No one else at the table was interested in alcohol at ten o’clock in the morning, but the CEO had developed some interesting new habits since his pending divorce.  Besides his alcohol consumption, he had also started openly discussing his private life.  Maybe the added alcohol contributed to his new open door policy.

  “I got another letter from the bitch’s lawyer," he announced, slurring the word “bitch.”  Everyone looked at Charles for the continuing saga.  “They want half of my assets, including half of my Dominex holdings."  No one knew exactly what to say to him.  He held up his glass for the waitress to see.  “One more, honey." 

  Pratt caught the glass as Charles attempted to set it down, missing the table entirely. 

  “No more for him," he told her.  “Come with me, Charles," the attorney said, helping Charles to his feet.  “It’s time we took care of your little problem.”  

  Charles allowed himself to be led out of the banquet room. 

  “Good thing he’s got a chauffeur," Jeff remarked. 

  Paul Pratt led the CEO to his car and got in after him.  “Dominex Building," he instructed.  As the car pulled away, Paul leaned over and said, “Now listen to me.  In a few days, this company is going to be worth a lot more than it is right now." 

  “But she has no right…” Charles began. 

  “Right has got nothing to do with the law," Pratt said, interrupting him.  He was tired of hearing the same tirade.  With all the fires out, he was going to make it his personal business to end this today.

  “I’m telling you man, settle right now, before the FDA approval comes through."  

  Charles opened the mini bar and got himself a shot of brandy.  Pratt didn’t stop him.  Maybe he’d be a little easier to deal with this way.  “When we get back to the office," Paul continued, “I’m going to contact her lawyer." 

  “Good” Charles said.  “Tell him to give her a little message for me." 

  “No," Pratt said firmly.  “I am going to tell him that we agree to their terms, but that the final figures will be
based on the numbers before us today and that the offer is only good until five PM.  Charles began to protest and the attorney grabbed him by the arm.  “Look at me," he instructed.  Charles turned and stared at him with blood shot eyes.  “I’m saving you a bundle.  If you wait any longer, you stand to lose a whole lot more than you will today.  This company is so far in the red right now, she’ll end up owing you money."

  “Owing me money," he repeated.  He slammed down his shot of brandy decisively, and said, “Let’s do it.”

     

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

      

  David Manning was seated in the FDA conference room, listening to five simultaneous conversations.  They had abandoned the goose chase and were calling from the real list of volunteers.  The calls were going somewhat differently today.  The two-minute conversations of generic babble had turned into twenty minute long tirades.  Some of them were still so irate at the way Dominex had casually turned them into walking vegetables that they were demanding to know what the FDA planned to do about it.  A few of the FDA team had gotten so flustered with heated calls that they had handed the phone over to Manning.  He assured each one of them that their report was being taken very seriously and that the FDA was going to take action.

  By lunchtime, they had contacted a third of the people on the list.  The number of volunteers that had not had a bad experience could be counted on one hand. David could see a pattern forming.  The only ones that did not experience extreme discomfort were the ones that had only been on the medication for a very short time.  Six months or more seemed to be the kiss of death.  “We’ll continue this after lunch," he announced to the weary staff.  “Continue to keep tabs on the length of time these people were on the drug before termination.”  Everyone began to shuffle out the door.  “Oh, and you are all doing a great job," he added.  A few of them gave him a tired smile as they walked out the door.

     

  * * * * * * * * * * *

   

  Michelle Roman had been trying to find a job.  She really didn’t need the money.  She had a very respectable savings account that had grown from years and years of living with an oblivious and unavailable husband.  She had wanted a job so that she could stay busy.  So when the phone rang, she hoped it was a response from one of her interviews.  “Michelle," the caller began.  Her shoulders slumped a little.  No job related caller would have addressed her in such a familiar way. “This is Mark Randall."  Her disappointment immediately changed to embarrassment.  She hadn’t seen her attorney since their lunch date.  He had attempted to meet with her a few times and she had always found a convenient excuse.  She hoped she wasn’t going to have to lie to him again today.

  “I just got a very interesting call," he continued.  “Your husband’s attorney has agreed to all of our terms." 

  “That’s great," Michelle said excitedly. 

  “But there’s a catch," he continued.  

  Michelle listened while her attorney explained the conditions of the agreement. 

  “That doesn’t really sound like much of catch to me," she reasoned. 

  “I’m sure they were hoping you’d see it that way.  But what they are asking you to do is to settle based on the companies worth today, rather than after their new wonder drug goes on the market.  And I’m guessing that they expect it to happen very soon.  That’s why the offer is only good today.  They’re in a hurry to get this done.”

  “Oh, I see," Michelle said thoughtfully.  She knew the company was in serious financial debt.  She also knew that, weighed against its other long-standing assets, the numbers would still come out in her favor.  “It’s a gamble," she speculated. 

  “In what way?" Randall inquired. 

  “Charles is sure that this drug is going on the market.  I am not so sure." 

  “Well, I did read that article in the paper," the attorney agreed, “but do you really think the company could be in that much trouble?" 

  Michelle thought for a few moments.  The fate of the company was largely in the hands of a very weak minded individual with an over inflated sense of self-importance.  “Tell them we’ll take their generous offer," she instructed.

  “You know something, don’t you?"

  “Let’s just say, I know the person behind the wheel intimately.  And if I had to place a bet on him…” 

  “I’ll take care of it," the attorney concluded.  “Maybe we could have a drink to celebrate."

  “Let’s wait and see if there is anything to celebrate first."  She knew her resistance was obvious.  She would eventually have to see him and set him straight about her dating rules.  Married men were not on her approved list.    

  “I’ll be in touch," he said and was gone.  

     

  * * * * * * * * * * * *

   

  Sheila entered the Dominex building two hours late and quietly made her way to the tenth floor.  People were used to her odd hours.  Since she had been promoted, no one had ever questioned her late arrivals or early departures.  Sheila walked into Jerry’s open office and announced, “Mission accomplished."  

  Jerry told her to close the door. 

  “You’re going to have to give me a little more information than that."   

  “There’s not much to tell.  He was not happy with the current outcome.  After I gave him the real data, he was so elated, he hugged me."

  “No shit," Jerry interjected.  “The FDA guy actually hugged you?"   

  “Yeah, and I think I saw his feet lift up off the ground a few inches." 

  “So now what?" 

  “We wait," Sheila instructed.  “After the FDA completes their evaluation, Dominex is in for a serious wake up call." 

  “Guess I better start looking for another job," Jerry said. 

  “Depends on whether or not the FDA goes after any legal action against us."  

  “Manning," Jerry stated, “are you kidding?  After what they tried to pull on him…" 

  “He’ll be after blood," Sheila agreed. 

  “Maybe we’ll try a new city," Jerry said, as Sheila came around the desk and placed her arm around his neck. 

  “Hawaii," she said invitingly.  

  Jerry pulled her around and placed her on his lap. 

  “How about a honeymoon in Hawaii?" he said as he nuzzled her ear. 

  “It’s possible," she said, and gave him a long passionate kiss.  They were still locked in the embrace when the door opened abruptly.  

  “I thought I’d find you here," Charles said, swaying back and forth in the doorway.  

  Sheila quickly stood up, and said, “You found me Charles.  What can I do for you?" 

  “Well, for starters," Charles said, placing his hands on his hips, missing one hip entirely, “you can get off this guy’s lap and get back to work." 

  “Sure, Charles," she said, and breezed by him in the doorway.

  Jerry remained stuck inside his office with an intoxicated and jealous CEO.  It was a very bad combination.  “So how are you?" Jerry said, awkwardly. 

  “Notsogood," Charles said, running all the words together into one slur.  “You should have left that one alone," he continued, indicating the hallway where Sheila had been.  “She’ll break your heart."  Jerry didn’t have a clue how to respond to this guy without insulting him, and for Charles, insults were redundant.  “It’s not too late," he continued.  “Take it from me.  You can’t trust a woman." 

  “Thanks for the warning," Jerry improvised.  Charles nodded as if he had just completed an important mission and turned to stagger back down the hall.  They really need to do something about him, Jerry thought. 

  Charles continued down the hall and found his way back to his own office.  “Nap time," he announced to no one and lied down on his couch.  Thirty seconds later, he was out cold.

&nb
sp;  

  Down the hall, Paul Pratt was on the phone with Michelle Roman’s attorney.  He had the call on his speakerphone and his feet propped up on his desk.    

  “We will expect the final papers in my office by five PM," Mark Randall said, his voice carrying throughout Pratt’s office.  Paul looked at his watch.  It was already one thirty, but the agreement was a simple fifty-fifty split and did not require any itemization.  

  “You’ll have it," he concluded, and disconnected the call.

  Pratt did not usually handle divorce cases.  His entire practice was devoted to corporate law, but in this case he had made an exception.  He hit the intercom button and asked his secretary to come into his office.  He knew she would not be pleased about having to type up a divorce agreement, but also knew that she would not argue the point with him.  With Charles’s divorce finalized, perhaps they would get their CEO back.  Pratt hoped so, because the alternative was to begin the process of removing him from his position.  They couldn’t continue to have the man stumbling around the building in a drunken stupor.  The door to his office swung open and the plan that would restore Charles Roman to his former self was dictated.

  * * * * * * * * * * * *

   

  David Manning’s crew had made enough contacts for his final conclusion.  Ordinarily, he would have simply required the drug company to adhere to stricter prescribing guidelines and print the appropriate warnings about long-term use.  But in this case, the drug company in question had lied about their study results. They had provided false documentation and they had made David’s life a living hell. 

  So, Manning intended to press their asses to the wall.  The drug would be denied FDA approval and David intended to shut them down as a result of their little indiscretions.  The FDA supervisor looked at the forms spread over his desk.  Six of the forms were required to either recommend Washington approval or to deny approval of a specific drug.  Denials did not have to be submitted to Washington.  An additional form was going to be used to begin the process of new FDA requirements for all sedatives containing benzodiazepines.  Every drug company that manufactured sedatives was going to be required to provide very specific warnings about long-term use.  David had seen and heard enough in the past twelve hours to convince him that all of the drug companies in question had been literally getting away with murder and was sure Washington would agree with his findings.