Devil's Advocate, page 24
“So, hey.” Jose shifted on his feet. “You and your girlfriend are lawyers, right?”
She’s not my girlfriend, Ash was about to argue, but then she sighed. What was the point? “Yes. We both are. Why?” She hoped he wasn’t about to confess to a crime. That would put a serious damper on the Christmas plans.
Nervously, Jose skirted the table, which still didn’t have the leaves put in yet, but that was typical of the Tanner family. Chaos. If you thought a job would take five minutes, it was imperative to add another fifty-five on top of that for interruptions, arguments, and jokes.
“Bree said I should talk to you if I got the chance.”
Ash nodded. She was used to this, because when people found out you were a lawyer, they immediately wanted free legal advice about landlords, parking tickets, or what have you.
“Okay,” Ash began, about to ask him what the legal matter was when she saw a brilliant opportunity to rescue Caitlyn from her mother’s clutches. “Say, Bree darling? I don’t think it’s fair to leave Caitlyn out of this free consultation you’ve suggested, so could you go get her from the kitchen, pretty please?”
“I—” Bree’s protest dried up as Ash whistled the first few bars of the Wedding March. “I’ll be right back.”
“I had no idea you had such an aversion to getting your hands dirty when you were little,” Caitlyn immediately said to Ash as she entered the dining room a few minutes later. A teasing grin lit up her face, making Ash realize with a jolt how much she’d missed Caitlyn’s presence, even in the short time she’d been in the kitchen.
Ash made a growling noise, partially because of the teasing and partially because missing Caitlyn after a seven-second absence was totally unacceptable. She was going to have to do something about that. “I see Mike was regaling you with stories of our youth.”
“He sure was, Princess.” Caitlyn shot her a wink that would’ve turned her internal thermostat up to broiling if it hadn’t been for the presence of her soon-to-be brother-in-law only a few feet away.
“We’ll discuss that later.” Ash’s eyes narrowed in warning, though she had a feeling she would never live down that nickname for as long as she and Caitlyn were together.
Oh shit. Had she just acknowledged to herself that she and Caitlyn were together? This was the worst Thanksgiving ever. She was in so far over her head there wasn’t a sign of life.
Jose cleared his throat, saving Ash from going deeper into an internal panic spiral. “I need some advice.”
“Legal advice?” Caitlyn guessed, at once transforming from teasing girl—not girlfriend, don’t you dare think it—to full work mode.
He shifted on his feet again, fingernails digging into his palms. “I’m a lead researcher for Rindge Biotech in Cambridge. I was promoted to the position earlier this year, and in going through my predecessor’s files, I’ve uncovered data from a drug trial that went unpublished. Trial number seven. Frankly, that trial didn’t reflect well on the product, although one particular positive finding was included in a research paper published two years ago which has been widely cited since.”
“You think the negative trial data was buried on purpose?” Ash asked, a burning feeling beginning in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. When Jose nodded, she added, “What was the nature of these negative test results?”
“In a small but significant number of test subjects who were otherwise free of cardiac issues but who had been diagnosed with a Still’s murmur during childhood—this is a heart murmur that’s generally considered completely harmless and usually resolves by early adulthood—sustained use of the drug put patients at risk for serious cardiac complications.” The internal conflict was evident in Jose’s pinched face as he continued to explain. “If you look at the test group as a whole, the cardiac side-effects were statistically insignificant. It only became noticeable because an abnormally high percentage of the subjects in this one trial had been diagnosed with the murmur and reported it on their intake forms.”
“Any idea why that test group was different?” Caitlyn asked, using the soothing tone that always put Ash at ease and seemed to be having the same effect on Jose.
“My best guess is that all of those subjects had been recruited from one hospital, where the head of pediatric cardiology happened to be particularly diligent in diagnosing and making note of this type of heart murmur in the patient records, and had trained the doctors under him to do the same.” Jose’s shoulders bobbed. “It was just one of those weird idiosyncrasies you sometimes find. It shouldn’t have made any difference.”
“You said the heart murmur was harmless,” Ash began, formulating possible counter arguments as she went. “Could your former colleague have overlooked the correlation, or dismissed it because of bias against seeing the condition as dangerous?”
“Yeah, I thought of that too.” Jose’s breath came out in an erratic rasp. “But then I found an internal memo addressed to him from one of the executives at our parent company, congratulating him for doing an excellent smoke-and-mirrors job on Trial Seven.”
“That does sound a bit damning,” Caitlyn said, putting into words what Ash was thinking. The burning in Ash’s belly intensified.
“I raised my concerns, and my supervisors reassured me a hundred different ways. They kept saying, Jose, these are cancer patients. They’re not out there running marathons, you know? But I don’t know.” He locked eyes with Ash, who acknowledged his doubt with a slow nod. “I believe we should be entering this information into the FDA’s Adverse Event Reporting System—that’s the main place where information on drug side effects is collected. But my superiors have said no, that it’s not required. It’s not like I can go to the company’s lawyers. I’ll get fired. I can’t lose my job, but I can’t sleep. What do I do?”
“You hold tight and let us look into this,” Caitlyn was quick to reply. For once, the advice being asked for was meaty and would require a hell of a lot more than pointing a person in the direction of a lawyer who specialized in reducing speeding tickets. “We’ll put a plan together.”
Already, Jose appeared more at ease, his muscles loosening and his breathing not so tight. Ash knew Bree would be pleased, a fact she could leverage to get her sister’s cooperation for the rest of the day in keeping her and Caitlyn from being roasted alongside the Thanksgiving turkey.
Turning her attention to the leaves that still hadn’t been added to the table, Ash grabbed one and fitted it in place as she ran through the man’s story for any details they might have missed. “That positive result you mentioned, the one that’s been cited in other research. What was it?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jose made a sour face as he helped her with the second leaf. “It found increased lung capacity and stamina among people who were treated with the drug. The company loved that one.”
Ash sucked in her breath. She’d prayed for an intervention in her family’s determination to embarrass her, but suddenly the universe seemed to be offering a different kind of assistance.
Caitlyn, who had been reaching for the final leaf, had frozen in place, wood piece only halfway slid into place. “Jose, what drug are we talking about?”
“It’s called doxylacitromide,” he replied, the complicated Latin name rolling off his tongue with ease.
“And the parent company you mentioned?” Caitlyn seemed to be at ease, but Ash knew her well enough to recognize she was doing everything in her power to remain calm while her insides were whirling.
“Parker Pharmaceutical,” Jose answered.
Just then, Bree’s voice came bellowing from the kitchen. “Jose? Is the table set yet or what? We need you to carve this turkey.”
Jose wore a deer in headlights look as Ash said, “Go on. Help with the turkey. We’ll finish the table.”
“And we’ll talk about this later,” Caitlyn said, her eyes doubling in size the moment the man left the room. She turned to Ash, her mouth dropping open. “Did you just hear that, too, or was I having some sort of hallucination?”
“No, I definitely heard it.” Ash’s thoughts spun in her head like a dust storm was passing through. Jose’s revelation was big on its own, but when added to what she and Caitlyn knew about Fergus Clark’s death, it could be huge. Like, career-making huge. Partner-making huge.
“Holy shit.” Caitlyn grinned as she clasped Ash’s shoulders, clearly thinking along the same lines. “This could be the biggest thing that ever happens to us.”
“Yes, it could.” Ash’s hands trembled as she snapped the table together, grabbing the tablecloth from the top of the sideboard. “But if we don’t get this set before my mom comes in here with the serving platters, we may not live long enough to see it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Caitlyn tapped her pen on her leg as she hummed along with the Christmas tune streaming through her laptop. They were waiting for news from the medical examiner and Ash had been locked away in the dungeon that was her office, researching. It was Friday afternoon, and though the week back at work after the Thanksgiving holiday had felt like a million years, it was finally over. Now all she had to do was figure out how to get Ash to spend the weekend with her doing something fun instead of working because, Caitlyn had to admit, her legal brain was starting to feel blitzed. She was in the holiday spirit and after having a tantalizing taste of four days off in a row, she was ready for less work and more play, pronto.
“Holy baby Rudolph,” Ash exclaimed as she entered through the open office door. “It’s like the North Pole in here.”
Caitlyn grinned as her eyes swept over the decorations that festooned every inch of space in her small office. Everyone was lucky she’d waited until after Thanksgiving. If it was up to Caitlyn, Christmas decor and music would roll out September 1st. “Don’t tell me you’re a Christmas hater. I’ve already gotten frosty looks from a few of the senior partners, and I’m not talking about the snowman variety.”
Ash hunched down to take in the tiny tree on Caitlyn’s desk, tapping one of the miniature gnome decorations that dangled from a branch. “No, I love Christmas, even if I don’t get a chance to decorate much. Although I might if I had some of these little guys.”
“Right?” Caitlyn let out a relieved sigh. Ash didn’t know how close she’d toed the line of heartbreak for them both. “How can you not smile when you see gnomes?”
“Would that have been a deal breaker? Like raisins in carrot cake?” Ash gave her best confess-all stare, and Caitlyn wondered how anyone could resist its spell. She wanted to confess anything and everything if it meant being under it. And under Ash. Or on top. Both were equally desirable places to be.
“Hey. A girl’s gotta live by her principles.”
“In the interest of full disclosure, there’s one part of the holidays I dread.” Ash took a seat in the single tiny chair in front of Caitlyn’s desk—this office being every bit as small as Ash’s own—and poked at an old-fashioned red pickup truck with a tree in the bed sitting behind Caitlyn’s monitor.
“Is it fruitcake?” Caitlyn gave a solemn and knowing nod and Ash burst out laughing. Up until that moment, the Christmas music had been the best thing she’d heard all day. Now it was definitely Ash’s laugh.
“I stand corrected. There are two things I dread. That, and shopping.” Ash extended a long slender finger to punctuate her thought. It absolutely should not have been enough to make Caitlyn’s mind go to places it didn’t belong during the workday, but ever since they’d crossed the line that one Saturday night in the office, she’d been struggling with the ability to keep her naughtier thoughts switched off between the hours of nine to five.
“You’re in luck.” Caitlyn dragged her attention from Ash’s hand, but not before a shiver raised goosebumps along her arm despite the office heat being set to Florida warm. “I happen to love Christmas shopping.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I’d hold your snark back—” Caitlyn teased, wagging her finger playfully.
Ash arched her brow. “You’ve met me, right?”
“Fair enough.” Caitlyn placed both hands on her chest, relishing the way Ash’s eyes took in the goods and the difficulty she seemed to have tearing them back to eye level. “Keep the snark to a minimum because I’m about to offer to go shopping with you tomorrow. We’ll bring Sadie. She mentioned she needed to get gifts for some friends at school. And, if you keep the whining to a minimum, I’ll get you a hot chocolate with crushed candy canes.”
“Will there also be whipped cream?” Ash perked up in her seat. Caitlyn knew she had Ash right where she wanted her.
“There’s one thing you should know about me.”
“You hate whipped cream, which means you hate life,” Ash guessed, shaking her head like she’d been told a terrible secret. “It’s probably best I learn this now, because—”
“I love whip cream and have a massive sweet tooth.” Caitlyn said it like she was in a confessional.
“I knew there was something I liked about you.” Ash grinned, probably the biggest one Caitlyn had personally witnessed on anyone. Whatever regret she’d been experiencing was gone, as another tidal wave of inappropriate thoughts threatened to drag her under.
You’re at work, Caitlyn reprimanded herself. Stay focused. A borderline impossible task at this point.
Caitlyn’s eyes fell to an envelope in Ash’s hand. “What’ve you got for me? Office appropriate answers only,” she warned at the naughty glint in Ash’s eyes.
“Now who’s a fun hater?” Ash asked with a pout. She opened the wide flap and pulled out the envelope’s contents. “I have the report from the medical examiner’s office for Fergus Clark.”
All jokes about Christmas, thoughts of hot chocolate, and fantasies involving the conference room kindly shuffled to the back of her mind. Caitlyn leaned across her desk, folding her hands, as if Ash wouldn’t guess how eager she was for the news. “Cause of death?”
“Sudden cardiac arrest due to probable ventricular fibrillation. The cause of the episode was marked as unknown, but they made note of the presence of a nonlethal quantity of doxylacitromide in his system at time of death.” Ash set the report on Caitlyn’s desk. “Meaning, not suicide, and not an overdose, intentional or otherwise.”
“And therefore not Moorehead Academy’s fault,” Caitlyn added, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “Which is very good news for our client. Looks like Hank Kearns jumped the gun on this one. He’ll have no choice but to back off.”
“As much as I’m happy to be on the winning side of this, I feel terrible for the Clarks,” Ash admitted, her eyes drifting to the floor and a melancholy tone coloring her words. “I imagine in a situation like theirs, it would be comforting to have someone to blame.”
“Who knows,” Caitlyn added thoughtfully as she considered the medical examiner’s report. “There may still be someone to blame. Just not our client. At least, not yet, they aren’t.”
“What?” The sudden sharpness of Ash’s tone caught Caitlyn by surprise.
“You know…” Brow creasing, Caitlyn bit down on her lip. “We talked about this on Thanksgiving. There’s likely to be one hell of a class action if that buried trial data ever makes it to the light.”
“I’m sure there will be, and I plan to have it make my career, just like we said.” Ash searched Caitlyn’s face with the type of intensity that went all the way to the bone. The conversation seemed to be veering in a direction Caitlyn wasn’t comfortable with. “And here I thought I was rubbing off on you.”
“What do you mean?”
Disappointment skirted over Ash’s beautiful features and Caitlyn’s heart sunk lower. “You can’t possibly think we would be representing Parker Pharmaceutical.”
“Then…” Caitlyn’s voice trailed off, suddenly at a loss because that had been her assumption. She was about to ask who when it struck her with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs. How had she been so thoughtless? “Oh, Jesus, Ash. Of course not. With your dad’s history, the last client you would consider taking on is a company like Parker Pharmaceutical. I’m such an idiot.”
“Was that really your first impulse? To try to sign those bastards?” Ash continued to study Caitlyn with a hint of distrust that made Caitlyn wish she could rewind the clock by a minute and start over.
“It wasn’t based on any kind of moral reason,” Caitlyn said, hearing too late how defensive she sounded. “I’ve been conditioned throughout my career to go for the deep pockets, and I think I learned early on how to bypass my own personal thoughts and feelings when I had to.”
“I get it.” Even though Caitlyn had no reason to doubt Ash was sincere, there was still a hesitation in the woman’s tone that brought a panic to Caitlyn’s insides.
“But you don’t like it, and a little part of you doesn’t like me right now because of it,” Caitlyn guessed. It stung to say out loud, but she and Ash had become too good at reading each other for anything other than honesty. Which was, she realized, something she’d need to truly investigate later.
Ash’s eyes darted to the hallway and she lowered her voice. “Of course I still like you. And I do understand. We’ve both done a lot of things we’re not proud of over the years, I’m sure. I just have a mental block when it comes to this particular case, because of my father.”
“That’s completely natural,” Caitlyn soothed. “Granted, they’re kind of the ideal McGill and Harding client, but—”
“But they deserve to have their asses handed to them,” Ash interjected. “And I hate being on the losing side. Speaking of winning, gifts, you ready for some good news?” It was a peace offering, and Caitlyn was eager to snatch it up.
Caitlyn’s eyes lit up. “You actually brought cannoli and chianti this time?”
“Damn. I’ve disappointed you again!” Ash managed a genuine laugh and the panic that had nestled in Caitlyn’s stomach dissipated. “I’m not sure what I have to say will make up for that big a letdown.”
