L Sellers - The Suicide Effect

Sula woke up feeling better than she had in weeks. She would see Tate this morning-that always made her world seem right again. Then she would put the envelope in the mail and be done with the Nexapra business. She had no regrets about her involvement. She would sleep better at night knowing she had done everything she could to ensure the drug was brought to market in a responsible way. It was also a huge relief to have it behind her. Rudker gave her the creeps, and she was eager to move forward with her life and away from any involvement with him. She would take the first steps tomorrow: apply for jobs in the morning, followed by coffee with Aaron.

She scooted into the kitchen, made a small pot of coffee, then stepped out to get the paper. A bright blue sky boosted her spirits even more. She and Tate could play in the park again today. May was coming, followed soon by June and July. If she got custody, they could go camping this summer. And to the water park in Springfield. And to baseball games. Sula couldn’t wait.

As she turned to go back in, a tall male figure across the street caught her attention. The guy wore a black baseball cap, which didn’t seem to go with his khakis and leather jacket. But this was Eugene; there were no dress codes. The man disappeared from view behind a van, and Sula entered the house.

She cruised though the paper in twenty minutes. Normally she devoured every word of the political stories and commentaries, but not today. The oil was still pouring into the gulf, the wars were still raging in the Middle East, and she couldn’t change any of it. She wouldn’t let it get her down.

Sula checked her watch: 7:42. She still had two and a half hours before meeting Tate. She put on Quad City DJs, danced for forty minutes, then showered and made eggs and toast.

It was still only 8:45 and she didn’t need to be at Westmoreland Center until ten. Saturday morning before nine o’clock was not the best time to call one’s lawyer, but at the moment, she had the time and the nerve.

Barbara picked up on second ring and spoke in a bright voice. “Good morning, Sula.” Her lawyer was wide awake and checking caller ID.

“I’ve been meaning to call you.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I lost my job. I thought you should know before the hearing.”

“Oh no. What happened?” She could hear a chair scoot in the background. Barbara was sitting down for the bad news.

“It’s a strange story.” Sula decided to give her the short version. Barbara didn’t need to be distracted with all the Nexapra stuff. “A scientist at Prolabs didn’t come to work for a few days. I got worried about her, so I went to her office.” Sula began to pace. “The company’s CEO-who’s a little crazy, by the way-saw me outside Dr. Warner’s office with some papers in my hand. He yelled my name and started running at me. It freaked me out, so I ran from him. Then he accused me of stealing and fired me.”

“That’s bizarre.” Barbara hesitated. “Running from him was a little weird too. Why do you think that happened?” Her voice was gentle. She knew Sula’s history.

“I was having a stressful day. You know the scientist who was missing? She was murdered. I had to identify her body at the morgue that morning. I was feeling a little jumpy.”

“I can see why.”

“How bad do you think this will hurt my custody case?”

“I don’t know.” Barbara hesitated again. Sula stomach knotted up. Finally, her lawyer spoke. “Last week, I wouldn’t have been worried. But on Friday, I got a call from Adam Bianchi, the attorney who represents Emily and John Chapman. He offered a settlement deal.”

“What deal? What are you talking about?”

“The Chapmans plan to bring up your family history at the hearing. Bianchi already prepared the brief. They argue that a history of mental illness could and should be a deciding factor in who raises Tate.”

“Oh God.” Sula collapsed on the couch. “That’s so unfair.”

“They’ve offered a deal. If you’ll drop your custody petition and terminate your parental rights, they’ll agree to bi-weekly, unsupervised visitation.”

Sula sucked in a sharp breath. She’d been pushing for more frequent visitation for a year. Now they were offering it to her, but she had to give up-forever-her dream of having Tate live with her. “You think I should take the deal, don’t you?”

“Not necessarily. The courts traditionally like to return children to their biological parents whenever they can. And you are a fit parent by any court standard. Even if we lose the custody hearing, we can still petition for more visitation.”

Stress flooded her system. To get Tate back, she would have to listen to lawyers discuss that tragic day when her father, mother, and sister all died. She might even have to talk about it. “They’re trying to scare me off.”

“Exactly.”

“No deal.”

“Good for you. By the way, are you okay for money? Can you collect unemployment?”

“I filed for it. They have to review the circumstances of my termination and make a decision. I haven’t heard yet.”

“Do you need some money in the meantime?”

Barbara’s generosity made Sula’s eyes tear up. “I’m fine for now. But thanks for asking. You’ve been great to me.”

“So make my job easier. Get out there and find a new job.” Barbara laughed, but Sula knew she was serious.

“I will.”

“See you in court.”

Sula ignored the anxious, negative thoughts that kept popping into her head. She couldn’t let fear paralyze her. She grabbed the classified section of the paper, went through it systematically, and made a list of places to apply. Suddenly it was 9:42 and she was running late. She grabbed her purse and the envelope addressed to the FDA and headed out to her truck.

Rudker watched Sula leave the house. He liked the way her jeans showed off her ass when she climbed into the truck. She seemed to be in a hurry, throwing the truck into reverse and backing out of the driveway before it had warmed up. That wasn’t good for a vehicle.

Then it registered. She’d had a manila envelope in her hands. It looked thick, like it had something more than paper. Rudker’s heart quickened. Did it have anything to do with her trip to Puerto Rico? Had she got to the research center before his contact made the files disappear? Were the files about to be mailed to FDA?

He couldn’t let that happen. If she stopped in front of a big blue mailbox, he would ram into her car. That was along the lines of what he had planned anyway, but a little less subtle, and ultimately, less dangerous for her. He followed the purple truck down Friendly Street toward 18th Avenue, staying a full block behind her.

The morning was quiet, no cars shared the road, and no pedestrians were on the sidewalk. Rudker considered making his move now. Slam her car, grab the envelope, and speed away. No, not yet. The risk for him was too great, and the scare factor for her, not nearly high enough. He would stick to the plan.

Sula turned left on 18th. Rudker followed two cars back. He removed the stolen cell phone from his jacket pocket, but the traffic was too thick and unpredictable for him to take his eyes off the road long enough to call. A few minutes later, the girl turned left on Chambers. Very nice. Maybe she was heading out of town without any encouragement from him.

Left again at the first feeder street. Where in the hell was she going?

The truck pulled into the Westmoreland Community Center parking lot. Rudker cruised past the entrance and took the next driveway into the adjacent middle school. He circled back and parked by the street about 200 yards from Sula’s truck. She was already out of her vehicle and walking toward a blue minivan.