Kathleen Long - A Necessary Risk

And during a past trial she’d never heard about?

As Zach Thomas rounded the corner and disappeared from her sight, Jess turned, not toward the media showcase tour but toward a different section of the facility. The section no one but security-cleared staff could access.

She had questions that needed answers and ghosts that needed exorcising.

HC0815 was now her baby, her responsibility, and she intended to make sure nothing stopped the revolutionary drug from making it to the public.

Especially not random allegations tossed around by a grief-stricken detective.

How dare he crash the media showcase by impersonating a reporter? The nerve of the man. Yet sympathy tugged at her heart, twisting ever so slowly. The man had lost his brother. She needed to remember that, as much as she wanted to wring his neck for voicing such lies about their work.

But were they lies?

She swiped her ID badge through the panel outside the lab, pushing the door open once the buzzer sounded.

If Thomas’s allegations weren’t lies, then she’d been kept completely in the dark about the existence of a previous trial, one that had been stopped for an unknown reason. She’d known Miles Van Cleef long enough to know he was a forthright and honest man. He’d never do such a thing. But what if he had been kept in the dark, as well?

Was it possible?

And what about the current trial?

Her predecessor, Scott McLaughlin, had beaten a hasty departure from his position as head of the HC0815 trial. At the time, Jess had written off his action as an aggressive career move, but now she wondered.

Had he stumbled upon something and been forced out?

Jess settled in front of her computer terminal and pulled up the list of archived databases, refocusing on the possibility of a previous study. There were none. But then, the trial may very well have been run under a different name.

She searched on Whitman Pharma and came up with three previous trials, all for drugs which had successfully made it to market and not one with an indication for pancreatic cancer.

She blew out a sigh and sank back against her chair, relief easing the tension that had gripped her every muscle since she’d met Detective Thomas.

Someone had given the man bad information about prior suicides. But what about that of his brother?

She pulled up the current study, knowing full well each participant’s identity would be coded and anonymous, but any adverse reactions should be logged, especially one involving psychosis. She carefully scanned the list of participant numbers and results, tracing her finger along the column for implications.

No suicides.

Not one.

No depressions.

No anxiety or panic disorders.

HC0815 truly was the wonder drug they’d all pinned their hopes on, completely free of psychological side effects.

She needed a list of participant names to put her mind at ease and she knew just where to start.

The file of hard-copy applications from potential candidates.

Jess moved toward the opposite side of the lab, using her key to open the locked file drawer. It was company policy to retain all applications, even for those individuals not selected.

The data was also computerized, but—call her old-fashioned—Jess wanted to review the actual forms on the off chance Jim Thomas’s information hadn’t been entered into the system.

Several minutes later she’d flipped through every single form, scanning each applicant’s name.

No Jim Thomas.

Detective Thomas had been certain his brother had taken part in the trial. Perhaps he’d misunderstood or perhaps his brother had lied.

She slipped his business card from her pocket and studied it. He deserved to know he was operating on false assumptions.

Jess reached for the lab phone but stopped. She needed to speak with Miles Van Cleef before she made any contact with Thomas.

Knowing the media showcase should be long over, she pushed out of her seat and headed for the man’s office, more than ready to put this entire episode behind her.

“I CAN ONLY GIVE YOU A minute, I’m afraid.” Van Cleef spoke without looking up from the jumbled mess of papers on top of his desk.

Jess never ceased to be amazed someone so brilliant could be so unorganized, even though the man was able to put his fingertips to whatever he needed without a second thought. Perhaps his clutter was actually a physical manifestation of his brilliance.

Jess shook off the random thought and refocused on the reason she’d asked Van Cleef for the meeting. She stood behind the chair opposite his desk rather than sitting.

“I thought you should know why the gentleman in the leather jacket was actually here.”

“Ah.” Van Cleef lifted his gaze. “How did your detective work go?”

Funny he should choose the word detective.

Jess hesitated for a split second, then plunged in. She summarized Thomas’s allegation regarding the earlier failed trial, watching as color fired in Van Cleef’s neck and face.

No wonder. He was more passionate about the integrity of New Horizon’s work than anyone. She’d known he wouldn’t take Thomas’s claims lightly, but he had to be made aware the rumors were floating in the public.

“The results of the prior trial are inconsequential to the current testing.”

Van Cleef’s words hit Jess like a ton of bricks.

Prior trial?

Had Thomas been right? And if so, where was the data?

“When I accepted this new position, I wasn’t informed HC0815 had been through prior trials.”

“Trial,” Van Cleef corrected. “As in one and one only. A complete disaster for a variety of reasons, most of them having to do with Whitman Pharma’s withdrawal of the product from the FDA approval process.”

Jess’s head spun with questions. “Why is there nothing in the database?”

Van Cleef shook his head, his wire-rimmed glasses sitting crooked as usual. “No reason to keep information on products that don’t gain approval.”

“But what if the trial exposed a risk to patients? What if the data presented safety implications for the Hepatitis C indication?”

Her question captured Van Cleef’s attention completely. The man visibly tensed. “The drug was pulled by Whitman. It’s not for you or me to question why.” He frowned, his expression intense, serious. “Ancient history. You’re paid to stay on top of the current Whitman clinical trial, not worry about the past. Have there been any alarming side effects to date?”

“None documented.” Jess shook her head, debating whether or not to tell Van Cleef the rest of the conversation.

She drew in a deep breath, hesitating.

“If that’s all, Jessica, I really do need to get back to work. The media showcase set me back hours, as usual.”

“The detective claims there’s been a suicide in the current trial.”

Van Cleef’s white brows snapped together. “That’s preposterous.”

“His younger brother,” Jessica continued. “A supposedly healthy candidate. He jumped from his dormitory balcony after allegedly taking HC0815.”

“I’m assuming you’ve already checked the records? The case report forms?”

Jess nodded. “No record of a Jim Thomas in the applications. No record of a suicide in the results.”

“There you have it.” Van Cleef nodded, then refocused on his work, dismissing her with this move. “Your detective is mistaken. End of story.”

But as Jessica headed back toward her work area, she couldn’t shake the memory of Detective Thomas’s determination. His was the face of a man who knew what he was talking about—or at least was fully convinced he was telling the truth.

In addition, she couldn’t remember ever being dismissed so abruptly by Van Cleef. Was he hiding something? Was he trying to brush off her questions?