Page 25 of Caught
“In my defense, Olivia told me Trent said to hurry,” Leilah insisted. She slid into the chair next to Ryan.
“It’s true. I did,” Olivia admitted. “So, where are we?”
“Ryan was just listing all the possible government agencies that could be trying to kill him. We’ve got the Department of Defense, the Drug Enforcement Administration, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and, in a last-minute addition from Ryan, the Department of Justice,” Jake informed her.
Leilah frowned. “All those other agencies have agents. Like people who carry guns and are trained to use them. Not the DOJ. I mean, no offense intended, Ryan, but they’re just a bunch of suits.”
He gave her a sour look. “Oh, none taken.”
She giggled. “I don’t mean that the way it sounds. But, they are lawyers, not law enforcement officers, right?”
He relented. “I know what you mean.”
Marielle slapped a hand down on the table. “Well, since you asked, I’ll tell you. Our trip to Fort Detrick was most illuminating.”
“Oh, did you buy some lamps on your shopping spree?” Omar cracked.
She nudged his shoulder, but giggled. Leilah and Olivia exchanged a knowing look.
Marielle regained her composure and removed her laptop from the bag at her feet. “Reuben Cowley is a bona fide genius,” she said as she booted up her device. “He works in data analysis and analytics, basically doing what I do.”
“Spotting patterns?” Omar asked.
“Exactly, only he’s using algorithms and visual data to predict when an operating theater in Germany is going to need more surgical masks, for example. So different applications, but very similar processes.”
“Okay,” Ryan said.
Leilah watched the guys nodding along. Marielle had started to walk her, Olivia, and Chelsea through this in the car, but there was too much screaming and begging for Leilah to slow down, so most of it had been lost in the process.
“He’s trying to set up a just-in-time system like some grocery stores do. Only the stakes are much higher, so instead of the shelves being bare of rutabaga, if he miscalculates, a unit might be short on vaccines or cancer drugs.”
“What the heck is a rutabaga, anyway?” Ryan whispered to Leilah.
She pinched his arm. “Pay attention. And it’s a root vegetable. Think of a more bitter carrot crossed with a healthier potato.”
“Eww.”
“Anyway,” Marielle said, with a pointed look at their end of the table, “he really screwed up the ketamine orders about two and a half years ago. Like, he got it way off.” She paused for effect. “Or did he?”
Leilah glanced around the room and then turned back to the scatter plot graph on the laptop screen. Marielle was gesturing toward the graph with evident pride. Everyone else looked as confused as Leilah felt.
“We don’t know, Elle. Did he?” she finally asked.
“Mais non! Of course, he didn’t. Someone fed his beautiful little program bad data. And, you know, garbage in, garbage out. So poor Reuben ordered four thousand vials too many. He did this based on the numbers being put into the system.”
“Wait, so it really was a clerical error?” Ryan asked.
Marielle turned her fury on him. “Not a clerical error. Fraud. Massive fraud. The Army paid for all those vials, which they did not need. And then, guess what? They were never delivered. The pharmaceutical company said they were. But they never showed up in the warehouse inventory. Eventually, the drug maker refunded the order. So the Army dropped the issue because they didn’t lose any money. But it haunted Reuben. For the longest time, he couldn’t figure out how it had happened. And then, he did.”
“He did?” Leilah’s eyes widened.
“He did.”
“Did he tell anyone?”
Leilah looked around the table. “He wasn’t sure what to do. Legally, I mean. So he texted Natsuo a file and asked him to look at it. Three days later, Natsuo ‘fell’ down that flight of stairs, and, truthfully, I think Reuben forgot all about it in his grief. Until we showed up.”
“He gave you the file?” Ryan asked.
