Devil's Advocate, page 25
“You really need to up your game, especially when I keep telling you what will make me happy.” Caitlyn gave an exaggerated sigh, laying it on thick. “But fine. What is it you wanted to share?”
“I was doing some digging into that doxylacitromide stuff last night, and you wouldn’t believe their ad campaigns. The TV commercials show all these runners, and rowers… just like the athletes who are taking this stuff like candy to enhance their performance.”
Caitlyn rubbed her chin, trying to make sense of this news. “Didn’t Jose say this is a cancer drug? What does running and rowing have to do with battling cancer?”
“Exactly. It’s almost like encouraging people to abuse this drug was the whole point of the ads.”
Caitlyn went cold inside. “Even as they hid evidence that it could be dangerous to people with certain pre-existing conditions.”
“Not if they weren’t running marathons,” Ash said with disgust, quoting what Jose had told them. “Only that was exactly what they were encouraging them to do.”
“In some ways, this reminds me of the 1997 California lawsuit against RJ Reynolds where they ended up having to kill off that cartoon camel in their ads because it was an obvious ploy to get kids to start smoking.”
“That was a $10 million settlement, if I remember correctly.” Ash’s eyes twinkled as she pointed this out, not that Caitlyn needed any more enticement to be brought around to her way of thinking. Defending Parker Pharmaceutical wasn’t something Caitlyn wanted to do. She wanted to fight on the right side of this thing, and she had an idea of how to make that happen.
But first, priorities. Ash had risen to leave, and it was speak now or forever hold her peace.
“Hey, Tanner. The mall, tomorrow. You in?”
Ash sighed, her shoulders slumping as she groaned. Had she truly thought Caitlyn would forget? “I’m in.”
Caitlyn clapped her hands in victory. It was almost as sweet as the hot chocolate she’d promised. “See you then!”
Sitting in her car and clutching the athletic forms Moorehead Academy had provided, Caitlyn surveyed the house where Fergus Clark’s parents lived. It was a gracious home—two stories, distinctive architecture, with a three-car garage—in a neighborhood that screamed money. She hadn’t called ahead. There was no way Janet Clark would’ve agreed to talk to her if she had. But with dusk approaching, there were lights on inside. Caitlyn was willing to take the risk.
Exiting her car, Caitlyn advanced on the front door, willing herself not to lose her nerve. She held her breath as she rang the bell.
A woman answered, and Caitlyn recognized her from photos in the news as Fergus’s mother, though her frizzy hair and hollow eyes bore little resemblance to the person she’d been just a few months before.
“Mrs. Clark? I’m—”
“I know who you are and you have some nerve trying to talk to me without my lawyer here. Shove off.” She tried to shut the door, but Caitlyn jammed her foot to stop it, the pain shooting up her leg.
“Did you know your son had a heart murmur?”
“What’s that?” The woman’s almost-dead eyes sparked with anger and roared back to life. “What’s wrong with you people? Does no one at Moorehead Academy have a soul?”
Trembling, the woman hunched against the open door and began to sob. Caitlyn’s chest squeezed tight and she couldn’t help but remember Sadie breaking down as she spilled the news. “Please, Mrs. Clark,” Caitlyn begged. “Just listen for a moment. I’m not here on behalf of the school.”
“Then who are you here for?” the woman growled.
“I’m… I’m here for you. I hope.” Caitlyn tensed, expecting to be shouted at and turned away, but the woman remained silent, as if she lacked the strength to fight anymore. “I’m really sorry for your loss, and I know this is hard, but I think you’ll want to hear me out.”
“I shouldn’t be talking to you without my lawyer here,” the woman said warily.
“Hank Kearns?” Caitlyn did her best to keep her dislike of the ambulance chasing attorney out of her tone. Mrs. Clark had hired him, after all. “Has he not already called you?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “About what?”
Caitlyn swallowed hard. The one thing she had not been counting on was having to break the news of Fergus’s cause of death to his own mother. This was something law school didn’t prepare you for, though experiencing what it was like to care for her sister gave her a slightly, if still woefully inadequate, understanding of what she should and shouldn’t say. “Mrs. Clark, the medical examiner is ready to rule on the cause of death for your son. Honestly, I thought you would have been contacted by someone from their office, or by Mr. Kearns, already.”
The woman responded with a strangled cry that pierced Caitlyn through to the depths of her soul. Caitlyn pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, trying to keep herself from breaking down. She wanted to offer comfort, but she was the last person this bereaved mother would accept it from, so she just waited, swaying slightly, until the worst had passed.
“Mrs. Clark?” Caitlyn said softly when she felt the woman might be able to respond. “Do you think we could go inside for a minute? It’s getting cold out, and neighbors are starting to get home, I don’t think you want them, you know, to see…”
Mrs. Clark nodded mutely, the prospect of being gawked at by neighbors terrible enough to penetrate her grief. She stood aside, waving Caitlyn in before closing the door. “It’s all people do now. Stare. Whisper. That’s the family whose son killed himself, they say.”
“Only he didn’t.” Caitlyn braced herself—for what response she wasn’t sure—but got a blank stare in return. She was committed to this now. “Your son’s death was… well, the medical examiner is going to say it was natural causes, but that’s not entirely right. But Fergus didn’t take his own life, either.”
The woman gripped Caitlyn’s arm with shocking strength, a desperate look in her eyes. “He didn’t?”
Willing herself not to flinch, Caitlyn shook her head. “No, ma’am. He didn’t.” Her words ended barely above a whisper. “It was his heart.”
“You mentioned… the heart murmur.” Mrs. Clark breathed deeply in and out, repeating it so many times Caitlyn feared she was on the verge of passing out. She continued to hold onto Caitlyn’s arm, fingers like a vice, but no way was Caitlyn going to make her let go. The woman might end up on the floor.
“The school provided me with a copy of your son’s records, including the paperwork the doctor signed off on when Fergus joined the rowing team in First Form.” Caitlyn placed a hand gently over Mrs. Clark’s before continuing. “It mentioned he had been diagnosed with a Still’s murmur when he was a child, and that it was still detectable when the doctor did the exam.”
“The doctor said it was harmless,” the woman wailed. “I would never have let him play!”
“This is not your fault,” Caitlyn assured her. “The doctor was right. Ordinarily, there’s no reason to be concerned about that type of murmur. Your son was in perfect health to participate in any sports he chose. It’s only… did Fergus ever mention a drug he was taking, doxylacitromide?”
“My son didn’t get high. Never. What are you trying to claim, that he was some kind of druggie?” The woman grew agitated once more. “First everyone’s pointing at us because Fergus died, then because they heard it might be suicide. And now? Now we’re the family with the drug addict, I guess.”
This wasn’t going the way Caitlyn needed it to and she’d need to work hard to salvage it, fast. “Mrs. Clark—”
“Do you know what it’s been like living in this neighborhood since Fergus died? Filled with these judgmental, holier-than-thou types who pretend to be your friends when everything’s going great, when they think you’ll donate to their charity or give their brother a job at your company. But they’re all just waiting for some juicy gossip as soon as something goes wrong.” The woman continued to rail, paying no attention to Caitlyn’s attempt at redirection.
Caitlyn took a moment to sweep a quick glance at her surroundings. Only the living room light on, and Halloween decorations were still in sight despite the Christmas season approaching. It was as if everything had stopped in this house the moment they’d learned about their son’s death. Imagining what the upcoming holidays would be like, Caitlyn’s heart clenched. She was even more determined to nail Parker Pharmaceuticals to the wall for what their greed had caused.
“I can only imagine it’s been a living hell,” Caitlyn answered truthfully.
“We just want to move.” A desperate quality had crept into Mrs. Clark’s tone. “Fergus was our youngest. His older sister lives in Ohio. We just want to sell this house and go there, but we’re not as rich as some of the families at Moorehead. My husband has to work to pay the bills. I thought maybe with a wrongful death settlement… but now you’re saying no one’s at fault?”
“No, ma’am. That’s not at all what I’m saying.” Caitlyn set her jaw, determination coursing through her veins. “The makers of the drug your son was taking, that they were knowingly marketing to young athletes like him while hiding studies suggesting it could in rare cases have dangerous side effects, are most certainly to blame.”
Mrs. Clark put her hands to the sides of her head as if to steady herself. “What was this drug you keep talking about? He wasn’t on any medications. I don’t know where it could have come from.”
“It’s a prescription drug, for cancer,” Caitlyn explained. “Most likely he was getting it at the gym near school. Several of his teammates appear to have been taking it, and it’s all the rage with some athletes right now because it’s not a banned substance and no one’s testing for it in competitions.”
“Cancer?” Mrs. Clark blinked a few times and shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“It was developed for cancer, but one of the things it does is improve cardiovascular strength. I have reason to believe the manufacturer, Rindge Biotech, was aware of this, and also knew about potential heart-related side effects if used by highly active people with a certain type of heart murmur. The type your son had.”
“But, how?” The woman still looked confused, and Caitlyn couldn’t blame her. “I don’t understand how the boys would even know to take such a thing.”
“Well, there’s more. I believe the parent company, Parker Pharmaceutical, was also well aware of both the cardiovascular strengthening properties of the drug and the potential for dangerous side effects if misused. Despite this, they signed off on a marketing campaign to sort of subliminally push the drug for off-label use as a performance enhancer for endurance sports, like running and rowing.”
“Parker Pharmaceutical?” Mrs. Clark’s eyes grew large. Understanding began to settle on her grief-stricken face. “They’re… huge. You’ll excuse me for saying, Miss… I’m sorry, I never got your name.”
“Caitlyn Brewster.”
“Ms. Brewster…” The woman frowned. “That firm you work for, McGill and Harding, isn’t it? It seems like Parker Pharmaceutical is more your type of client, not someone like me.”
This statement hit like a blow to the gut, because it was exactly what Ash had pointed out too. And they were both right. The firm she’d gone to work for right out of law school, that her own uncle had helped to found, was not one of the good guys. At least, not often enough. But that was going to change, even if Caitlyn had to go directly to her Uncle Bertie to plead her case.
“You’re completely right,” Caitlyn admitted, sensing truth was the only way to keep Mrs. Clark listening. “But I believe in this case. I think Parker Pharmaceutical is responsible for your son’s death. I want to help you sue the bastards. It won’t bring Fergus back, but you might be able to save another family from the pain you’re going through.”
There was silence. Long enough Caitlyn’s mouth went dry.
Caitlyn was prepared to count to twenty, after which she would turn around, walk through the door, and head back home in defeat. When she reached nineteen, Mrs. Clark let out a long, thin sigh.
“What do you need from me?” Her tone, while reluctant, was soft.
Caitlyn’s heart pounded. Was it possible she’d won the woman over? “Right now, I just need to ask some questions.”
The woman nodded, looking tired but like there was a slight ray of hope where only darkness had been before. “Okay. But I’m not agreeing to anything yet. Just talking.”
“I understand.” As Caitlyn followed Mrs. Clark to the living room, she struggled to keep her joy in check. It wasn’t the time or the place. But once the Clarks were officially on board, she couldn’t wait to share the news.
Ash was going to be so proud of her once she knew. But for now, Caitlyn wanted to keep it a surprise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“I just need one more thing from Newbury Comics,” Sadie declared, pausing beside the entrance to the mall’s food court to sort through the multiple shopping bags dangling from her wrists.
“Newbury Comics?” Ash set her own assortment of bags onto the tile floor with a groan. “Wasn’t that all the way back down by Macy’s on the first floor?”
“It won’t take long.” Sadie said this with the energy that only humans under the age of twenty possess.
Ash turned to Caitlyn, who was holding at least three of Ash’s bags and wore a despondent expression that matched how Ash felt. That, at least, allowed for a brief flicker of schadenfreude. “Go on. Go without me.” Ash said this the way a narrator in a documentary might read a letter home from a Civil War soldier. “Tell my mother and the children I fought as bravely as I could.”
Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Buck up, soldier. That café I was telling you about is right around the corner. Why don’t we go get some hot chocolate while Sadie walks ten miles in the snow, uphill both ways, to finish her shopping.”
Ash perked up considerably at this prospect, grabbing her bags from around her feet. “Do I get extra whipped cream?”
“Only if you stop whining,” Caitlyn told her, giving Ash’s hip a bump with her own as they carried their bags through the crowded food court. This restored Ash’s spirits, which became even brighter as she noticed the café had several open tables and fewer people than the main area they’d just plowed their way through.
“Thank God. I thought I might die.” Ash collapsed onto a chair, cramming all the shopping bags into the corner before sprawling out with her limbs in front of her. Now that she was seated, every inch of her body ached. “I’m not sure I will ever be able to get up again.”
“Too bad, Princess. You have to place your order at the counter.” Caitlyn put her hands on her hip, intent on staring her down. Ash responded with a whimper, her lower lip jutting out in a well-practiced pout, making Caitlyn’s determination waver. “Fine. You sit here and I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re the best.” Ash flashed a grateful smile, surprised by just how deeply she meant it. Caitlyn was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and Ash honestly wasn’t sure how she’d gotten so lucky. Except, maybe, that for once, she’d let down her guard and allowed another person to have access to the parts of herself she usually kept locked away.
Who knew that would turn out so well?
As she turned her feet in circles, wiggling her toes inside her boots to keep the circulation going, one of Ash’s favorite holiday songs filtered through the cacophony of shoppers. She found herself humming along. She, Ashley Tanner, was in a mall, doing Christmas shopping for her family—actual presents that she might even wrap, as opposed to stopping at a grocery store on Christmas Eve and selecting gift cards from a picked-through display near the register.
And she had one beautiful, tiny Elle Woods look-alike to thank for it. Ash could never have predicted her life would bring her to this moment, and yet here she was. With the holiday looming, Ash had made up her mind. She was inviting Caitlyn and Sadie to join her family for the annual Christmas Eve giant deli tray and early gift opening extravaganza, and they were going to spend Christmas Day together too. And no more pretenses about being friends from the office. She was going to tell her whole family the truth.
Fortunately, Ash already knew her announcement, however unprecedented, would quickly be overshadowed by her sister’s engagement news, and therefore the timing couldn’t be better. She just had to find the right time to talk about it with Caitlyn.
Caitlyn carried a tray from the drink counter, cautiously weaving through the tables before pulling up short to avoid being wiped out by a man on his phone, shouting as if the world was ending. Caitlyn sported a devious smile that instantly made Ash both curious and a little nervous. She hoped this wasn’t Caitlyn’s way of breaking the news that she, too, had forgotten a gift for someone and had to go traipsing back through half the mall to find it. They’d been shopping for what seemed like an eternity, and Ash had emphatically crossed the last name off her list with a promise not to step inside another store until she died.
Of course, Ash had yet to buy anything for Caitlyn or Sadie—not like it was easy to do when they’d been with her all day. It was fine, though. Ash was fairly sure she could handle another shopping trip on her own. They would be worth it.
Caitlyn still wore that mischievous grin.
Ash’s tummy did a flip. “What gives?”
“Since you didn’t come to the counter with me, I took the liberty of ordering you one of my favorites.” Caitlyn set the tray down on the table. “Extra whipped cream.”
Ash could hardly believe the three mugs in front of her. Chocolate flakes were scattered like tiny twigs along a snowy hill of whipped cream. Some type of white frosting with red and green sprinkles hung down the sides of the glass mugs like garland. On the plate were crushed peppermints and red and white balls of… actually, Ash wasn’t sure. As if that wasn’t enough, a full candy cane stuck out of the top of the drink.
