22. Carter
22
CARTER
T he air was rife with tension as I sat in the conference room next to Joseph, drumming my fingers on the table that stretched between us and the two doctors we’d linked to the drug trial scandal. That was what we were calling it now—a scandal—because it was likely to turn into one, especially when Kira Baker’s family learned how poorly our team had handled her intake.
Peters, now the ringleader, massaged his temples. We’d been at this for over an hour already, but the men were adamant they could not provide us the specific names of our recruiters who were giving the payouts. Joseph suggested following the money trail, but to investigate our bank transfers, who made them, who approved them, and who initiated them would mean alerting board members, which we were avoiding until we had a potential solution for this problem. The fewer people who knew, the better.
“Gentlemen, we can sincerely appreciate your financial conundrum. You’ve gotten comfortable with the payouts you’ve received from GenOne Pharmaceuticals, but that money is going to stop now whether you help us or not.” Joseph tented his fingers and leaned over the table with elbows sliding along the smooth, polished wood. “People are being put at risk and being told trading their health for money is okay.”
Peters scoffed and shook his head, wiping one hand down his face. “If your drug trials are safe then why does it matter? You’re telling me side effects can play politics? Joe, you’re blowing smoke. Those people are no different than the ones who hear your commercial and call the hotline.”
It was Wilkinson’s turn to chime in, and I had to control my angry reaction when he spoke. “Peters is right. We’re not doing anything you’re not already doing. You offer a payout to people on the commercials to call in and do the drug trials. How is this baiting and unethical?”
My hands gripped the edge of the table firmly as I forced myself not to stand up. I swallowed hard and gritted my teeth, wanting to lash out at him, but Joseph’s calm demeanor helped smooth things over. He held out a hand toward me to back off, which I tried to do, but in spite of my best attempts to relax, I couldn’t even sit back. I was, however, able to not speak harshly.
“Mr. Wilkinson, we’ve had an incident in Tampa during one of our drug trials where a young woman, unaware of a condition she already suffered from, died from a complication during a drug trial. Now”—Joseph sighed hard and continued—“that was a mistake on the side of our screening department. They took her word as law and didn’t test her for the condition. We’ll deal with that. What is really concerning is how these people are hard up for money and being convinced this is an answer to their problem. A miracle.”
“So, what’s that got to do with us?” Peters was seriously annoying me.
“What’s that got to do with you?” I snipped, and I clenched my jaw to push away the worst of my angry outburst. This was my name, my company they were putting at risk, and people whose lives I cared about. “These people are sick, broke, desperate for any solution to their life at times. Some of them don’t even speak proper English, so they can’t inform doctors of preexisting conditions. And so many of them are lying to us about those conditions in order to qualify because the sum they might receive is too tempting. They need the money.”
Wilkinson rolled his head around on his neck and glanced at Peters with an expression of defeat. We all promised when we took that oath, to first do no harm. Convincing desperate people to sign up for drug trials was risky at best, and catastrophic at worst. So far there had been no other fatalities in our trials, but we’d had several instances—which Jackson and I had discovered through this investigation we were doing—where folks had bad side effects that could’ve been prevented.
“Please help us reduce the number of people who are doing risky things. If you don’t give up those names, the recruitment team will just continue pursuing other doctors. This thing will grow, and how many people will be suffering or maybe eventually die because of it?” I implored them with my tone and the pleading expression on my face.
If they weren’t willing to work with us, we’d be forced to go to the board, which meant a whole lot of drama. I wasn’t keen on it, but I’d do it if it meant saving people from suffering or possibly dying.
“Yeah, alright…” Wilkinson was the first to cave, and I had never been gladder to hear a man finally break. I wasn’t proud of having to beg these men to do the right thing. No one should ever have to beg someone else to do the right thing.
Joseph reached into his inner breast pocket of his suit coat, pulled out a small notepad and a pencil, and slid them across the table. “Write the names here,” he said, indicating the notepad, but Peters leaned forward and put a hand on Wilkinson’s shoulder.
“Wait. We need to make sure we’re not going to face serious repercussions. We were just doing our jobs. Neither of us thought of those things, and we weren’t to blame if patients lied about their health histories or couldn’t tell your team they had preexisting conditions.” It was just like a snake to bite someone and then blame it on the victim. Peters’s angry stare hardened as I met his gaze.
“We can’t help what those patients might do, but I’m not planning to fire either of you.” As much as I wanted to, I knew we needed them to work the clinic hours. And they were good doctors aside from this fluke.
“I want it in writing,” Peters said bluntly, and Wilkinson’s shoulders squared.
“Yes, we should have it in writing,” he said, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out. We were finally getting somewhere with them, so I kept the train rolling.
“Good, we’ll have a contract for you ready this week.” I stood and extended my hand, hoping to put this all behind us as quickly as possible.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Joseph added, also extending his hand. We shook on it, and the doctors left. It was frustrating that the only thing they were thinking of now was protecting themselves, but the entire industry had turned that way. Doctors cared more about their malpractice insurance and covering themselves in the event that someone sued them than how their practice affected sick people.
“Joe, get that contract ready ASAP. Call legal and tell them we need it today.” I scratched my head, wishing I could pour myself a drink and unwind. But the day was still young, and I had a lot of work to get done, patients to see. Maybe a call with Sunny would help unravel some of the tension coiled in my chest, and I could invite her to dine with me tonight.
“Sure thing, Carter. And I’ll schedule a meeting with the head of operations to discuss a policy change for incoming test subjects. We’ll get on top of the prescreening for these lower-income patients right away. You’re right. After what happened with Baker, we can’t really afford to skimp on screening.” He shook my hand before I headed out.
The whole day so far had been nothing but one stressor after another. As I walked to my car, I pulled out my phone, a little desperate to feel some relief from the tension. Sunny’s phone rang three times, and I almost hung up, figuring it would go straight to voicemail, when she answered.
“Hey, Carter,” she said, but she sounded a little glum. Her tone was mellow, not chipper like I expected.
“Sunny, how are you doing?” It was amazing to me how quickly I could push away and forget my own tension the instant I heard her tone and suspected she was down.
“Oh, it’s been a tough day.” She sighed hard. “Freya came in again. She’s finally letting me help her.” The impact of that must’ve been crushing on her. I felt the weight she was carrying from where I was all the way across the city.
“Wow, that’s really good, and it must’ve been difficult. Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said, sounding more resolute. “I’m actually really good. I’m having dinner with Mom and Dad tonight to tell them I’m staying here and finding an apartment. And I plan to tell my father that you and I are together.”
I imagined that cute little lip of hers slithering between her teeth while she bit down. It wouldn’t be an easy thing for her to stand up to Rick. “Do you want me to be there?” The way Rick reacted when I talked to him was out of control, though Sunny was his daughter, not just a friend. He had no choice but to love and care for her. But he didn’t have to hold ties with me at all. In fact, he didn’t have to keep my secret either. He could very well use it as ammunition to hurt me, by revealing the truth to Sunny.
Though, he’d never see it as hurting her too, but I knew it would.
“No, that’s okay. I’m sure it will go smoother this time if I tell them on my own. Mom is sort of tense about it, but she knows. And Dad, well…Dad will blow up either way, but I’d rather you not get caught in the crossfire this time. Soon though…We will have a relationship with my family; it’ll just take time.”
The longer she spoke the lighter she sounded and the more I felt dread anchoring every cell in my body, weighing me down further. She was so hopeful for us, and I loved that. But Rick had a nasty temper at times, and knowing how fragile Sunny was made me fearful that he’d purposefully let things slip that he knew would wake her up without the intention of hurting her, just to get back at me.
“You okay?” she asked, and I cleared my throat.
“I’m good. I’ll be here if it gets rough and you need to talk.” Forcing a smile to my face so my words came out sounding happier, I said, “I love you, Sunny.”
“Love you too, Carter. I’ll call you later.”
Sunny hung up, but my hand continued to press the phone to my ear as I stood glued in place in the parking lot. I could never call Rick and demand he keep my secret. If I did, it would be manipulation, both of him and of Sunny. I had to let the cards fall where they may, but dammit if it didn’t shake me to my core. How was I supposed to finish my workday knowing what could happen?