Page 92 of The Tomorrows After You
I gleamed with validation. “Dr. Moore, I think the success of the drug is a little premature.”
“Oh?”
“The trial volunteers. The ones from Godot. There is a good possibility that they’re still addicted to that Chimera drug I’ve been looking into.”
“Well, everyone’s drug tested at the beginning to make sure they’re eligible for the study.”
“With a urine sample?”
“I would assume so…”Doubtcrept into his voice.
Ishookmy head as if he could see me.“The resultsareno good then, Dr. Moore. Your DEA consultant? Hesentme a note saying that their investigation into Chimerawasdroppedbecause itwastoo hard to trace and track since itdoesn’t show upon standard urinalysis.”
Dr. Moore was quiet. “Nicolette, if that’s true, there are going to be a heck of a lot of angry people and very disappointed investors.”
“Do me a favor. Keep this discreet. If youhaveto, only bring it up to someone you know you can trust.”
Hesighed.“Be careful, Nicolette. Therearea lot of things that go into these trials. A lot of money and that means powerful people. Just be careful, okay?”
In the library, I opened my laptop and fished out the charger to my Kindle. I plugged it into my computer and opened the recovery program.
Iwasno Brennan, but Ihadpickedup some basics. Itwasstandard recovery software available to the everyday Joe Schmoe. Of course, most of itwentto use by people whodroppedtheir phones in the toilet or suspicious spouses checking into their partner’s whereabouts. Itwasn’tsophisticated by any means but anything could help.
While it ran in the background, I opened up my email to scan the photos I’d sent. First, I caught the shareholder report for Echidna Pharmaceuticals. I eagerly opened it up and started scanning the names. I knew that it wouldn’t sayRedeemer’s Churchbut I was hoping I could recognize something.
Vanguard
Dodge & Cox
Fidelity International
Typhon Industries
I paused, a memory pulled at me. Jeremy’s face popped into my head, shaking hot sauce onto his breakfast plate.
Something Industries? Titan? Triton, maybe?
IsearchedTyphon Industries andfoundvery little information. Therewasonly an old, outdated website thatreadTyphon Industries - Property & Wealth Management.Itlisteda PO Box in Charleston and a phone number. I copied and pastedthe phone number into another tab andsearched. A few mismatchescameup before Iscrolleddown to discover itwasa Baltimore area code.
The hair on my neckbristled.
“Gotchya,” I whispered to myself.
Imovedback to the recovery software. Therewasn’tmuch, but itwasable to recover a few photos and voicemails.
A tender smilehitmy lips when IheardRiot’s younger voice, full of bright enthusiasm. The voicemailwaschoppy but still audible.
“Hi Mom,we’vegotour home opener this Friday if you and Bren want to come. I can reserve tickets for you in the friends and family suite. Justletme know by Thursday, okay? Love you!”
I pressed play on the second one which was from a day before she died.
“Grace, I need to talk to you,”the familiar voicesaidin a rush.“I know you think you know whatyou’redoing but please, we need to talk. Before you doanything.Please, just don’t do anythingstupid, Grace.”The threatechoedunderneath the tone so violently that I could hear it even throughcutting in and out.
Isavedthe file in my email drafts.
I clicked through a few photos. Most were of the church services or events, and most were heavily pixelated. I scanned the dates and pulled up the ones from the week she died.
“Shit…” The photos were dark, almost black. There were splotches of light here and there. It wasn’t the software. Wherever the photo was taken was just dark.
