Chapter 28 #3
Warnecki looked uncomfortable, then said, “Your boss, Dr. Hogarth provided an affidavit to obtain the warrant for Mr. Lockheed’s place.
He said he was suspicious about a large donation you brought in.
He said that the only wealthy person he could think of that you know is your new fiancé, Trent Lockheed.
Hogarth suspects you’ve been supplying the serum to him. ”
“Someone’s suspicion? That can’t possibly be enough to get a warrant.” Charline was incredulous. She thought they’d need more than that.
The city detective spoke up, “That and the surveillance tape of you and your fiancé throwing Lisa Cooper out of your office and then taking files with you.”
She had nothing to say. Her stomach roiled knowing what they would find, knowing it would mean the end for Trent’s career.
She was surprised they hadn’t found the document he’d signed when he’d agreed to be a participant in the study, but then she remembered he’d said he put it in a safety deposit box with all his other important documents.
He looked pale. And angry, his jaw set, his arms folded.
She went to him. It was automatic because if she’d thought about it, about the possibility of being rebuffed, she would have run the other way.
When the city detective asked, “Do you mind?” and stepped through the door, Trent backed away and let them in. They went right to work.
As he headed down the hall toward Trent’s bedroom, the city detective said over his shoulder to Hogarth, “You don’t touch a thing. Understand?”
She stood at Trent’s side and put an arm around him.
“It’ll be okay,” she whispered. “I’ll tell them that the serum was for my mother, that I kept the drugs here—”
“That’s not going to do a hell of a lot for the theft charges against you, Charlie.” He let out a breath and looked at her, softening his hard glare. Then he put his arm around her. “Let me handle this.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Tell the truth.”
She heard the choke in his words, felt the tension in his body when the city detective returned from his bedroom holding her black bag in one hand and a vial of serum in the other.
“I’m no expert, but this looks like something that belongs to the research center.” He handed the vial over to Hogarth to confirm what they were looking at. Hogarth nodded.
The city cop turned to them.
“Which one of you was responsible for stealing the serum?”
“It was me—” Charlie started to say, but Trent cut her off.
“It wasn’t stolen.”
She pulled on his arm. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Maybe I can finesse this.”
“Yes it was stolen,” she said with a vibration in her voice. “I stole it for my mother and then I stashed it here so that you wouldn’t find it when you searched my house.”
“For your mother?” The city detective didn’t follow, but Warnecki did.
“Her mother has a rare illness and she was using the experimental serum to treat her,” Warnecki said. He sounded more sad than triumphant.
“That’s right,” Hogarth said with vehemence.
The two detectives looked at him. Warnecki shook his head.
The city detective said, “Looks like I have to arrest you, Dr. Morneau—”
“No. She’s lying,” Trent said, sure and cool. “The serum wasn’t stolen. It was for me. I’ve been participating in the study as John Doe.”
Her hands flew to her mouth. She couldn’t believe Trent had just made that confession, that he was willing to bring holy hell down on himself to save her from being arrested.
“Don’t . . .no . . .” No one paid attention to her. Trent’s jaw was set and posture determined.
Everyone’s eyes were on Trent, riveted by him.
“Arrest them both,” Hogarth said. “You can sort their stories out later. They were probably conspiring.” He waved his hands at them.
“There was no conspiracy,” Trent said, staring at Hogarth.
Then he turned to the city police detective and her heart stuttered in shock at the evil smile he wore.
“I used her to get what I wanted. I bought her a ring and donated ten mil to her research center so I could be in the study, but she made sure as hell I was qualified.”
“What about the surveillance tape—” Hogarth looked agitated. There was no doubt he didn’t want to let Charline get away without being arrested.
Trent shrugged, “When we went to the lab to get the files—she was trying to protect my privacy. I used the opportunity to steal more serum because she wouldn’t steal it for me.”
“Are you crazy?” she yelled, then turned to the detectives. “We only took the files, files I had a right to. He had all the serum he wanted. There was no serum stolen after the first batch. There were safeguards put in place after the first . . . theft.”
Warnecki nodded. She didn’t believe how Trent thought anyone would buy his story about stealing the serum. But the city detective considered him, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I think Dr. Hogarth is right,” the detective said. “Let’s take you both in for questioning while we verify whether or not Trent Lockheed is the research subject John Doe.”
Warnecki said, “We don’t necessarily need to take them in. I have someone from the lab I could call right now who can verify whether Lockheed was part of the research protocol, the John Doe subject.”
Squeezing Trent’s arm, finding him solid and cool without a shiver of concern, Charline held her breath.
He whispered, “Who could they be calling?”
She whispered back, “It doesn’t matter, because there’s not a soul in that place who knows you were John Doe.” She looked at him, a hint of the evil smile remained, overshadowed by a sad, resigned look.
“Maybe not, but I can prove it,” he said, all trace of a smile or sadness gone and nothing but determination left on his face.
“Detective Warnecki, I don’t know who you’re calling, but I have proof right here.” He held out his phone. “It’s in the documents under JD. A copy of the research participation agreement I signed. The original is in a safety deposit box and I can provide it for you first thing in the morning.”
When Hogarth opened his mouth to speak again, Warnecki put up a hand and said, “Watch out, Hogarth, or we’ll arrest you for the conspiracy. Your lab. Maybe you’re responsible?”
That shut Hogarth up, but he was smart and he knew the threat wasn’t real. They all watched Warnecki scroll through the document on Trent’s phone and then he nodded and handed it to the city detective to take a look.
She felt Trent tense beside her. She knew they were both in trouble, but at least no one would go to jail.
The serum they found here was not stolen.
The agreement proved it was here legitimately.
Her hand automatically stroked his back in response to his tension, to ease it.
His unselfish act of confessing to his study participation to save her from going to jail could cost him his career.
Confusion and horror skittered through her, but mostly a heartrending love for this man overwhelmed her.
“Looks like Lockheed was telling the truth. He was the subject John Doe in the drug trial. But that doesn’t explain why we found the serum and your black bag of equipment here.” The city detective addressed her, but Trent spoke up.
“She came here to give me injections and do the testing in order to protect my privacy.”
“We’d very much appreciate it if you would respect that privacy,” she said. “This is an ongoing research study and we wouldn’t want the integrity compromised because of this misunderstanding.”
The two detectives looked at each other.
Hogarth said, “Are you serious? You’re not going to continue your research.” He turned to the two detectives. “Arrest her.”
“Afraid not, Dr. Hogarth. We have no proof that there was anything stolen let alone that Dr. Morneau stole it,” Warnecki said. The city police detective gave him a sharp look and she held her breath. Then he nodded in agreement.
The two detectives put the bag and the serum down and moved to the door. But Dr. Hogarth wasn’t finished.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, detectives? She’s the one who reported the serum stolen six weeks ago. She admitted she stole the serum to treat her mother. I insist you arrest her for the theft of that serum.”
Holy hell. Trent raced after the city detective’s unmarked car with Charlie in the back seat.
Charlie, the love of his damn freakin’ worthless life, the woman he didn’t deserve, the woman who’d thrown herself on the fire to save his stinking ass.
What had she been thinking? She was worth a dozen of him.
So what if he never played football again? Who gives a f—ck?
But if Charlie didn’t continue with her research, putting her bold creative intelligence to work on developing the serum and who knew what else, the world would have lost something—someone—important.
He shook his head, trying to keep himself from losing it.
As it was, nerves had him on the edge of recklessness and he felt every single mother fuking ache and pain in his body with the unrelenting tension holding him in a boa-constrictor-like embrace.
As he turned his Audi into the parking spot next to the detective, he forced a deep breath, then jumped from the car. He dialed the number of his agent. He could find them an attorney.
“You want to tell me what this is all about?” his agent questioned, still calm for the moment, when Trent explained the current situation.
“I know there’s more to it. What about this serum?”
“Just do what I ask.”
There was a beat of silence. It wasn’t like Trent to be an asshole to his agent.
“I will.” He cleared his throat. “What else is going on, Trent?” He spoke in a calm quiet voice now, tinged with real concern.
Trent had followed the detectives and Charlie inside the precinct building and found himself standing in the lobby, prevented from going any further as they marched Charlie down a corridor and through a door.
He took another breath. He might as well tell his agent everything.
Any reporter worth a damn would put two and two together when they saw the police blotter.
As soon as they saw Trent’s fiancée arrested for stealing HGH serum, they would know there was more to the story and they would dig.
“I’ve been participating as a subject in a drug trial for a new research grade HGH serum—a designer drug for treating muscle tissue, for enhanced healing.” His heart pounded as he took in the reality of his confession and waited in the two beats of silence while his agent digested what he’d said.
“You—? What the f—ck, Trent? Are you crazy out of your mind? You didn’t confess, did you?”
“It’s not a crime.”
“You didn’t admit this to anyone but me, did you?”
Trent closed his eyes and imagined what Tammy would think, his mother, his brothers. His dad. He spat a string of oaths under his breath and owned up. He’d made his decision. He had no choice but to own up. To embrace it. All the way to hell.
“Yes. I did. I admitted it to the police, to Dr. Hogarth, the director of the research center. And of course, Charlie knows. Has known all along.” And she went with it, with him, whether she’d judged him insane or not, she’d let him make his own bed.
Then she’d tried protecting him from himself. That memory did funny things to his heart, made it flip around, made his chest tighten. She cared.
He cared. More than he’d admitted to himself, until now.
Time to pull the wool from his own eyes.
He was goddamn head-over-heels in love with Dr. Charlie, the sensual siren filled with passion under the nerdy researcher facade.
The woman who was too serious and too smart and most of all too compassionate for her own good.
“Hell of a mess. I’ll see if I can keep a lid on it, control the media. I’ll give you the number of this attorney I know—it’ll cost you.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“Just have him or her get down here to the precinct now. Right now. I don’t want Charlie spending the night in jail.
” Trent gave his agent their location and his agent gave him the name of the attorney, an older, seasoned man from a white-shoe Boston firm.
It was going to cost a bundle, but Trent was numb to the issue of money.
He had more than he knew what to do with.
He idly wondered if the spigot of income would be suddenly turned off once he became a pariah.
He decided he didn’t care. As he sat in the precinct waiting room, his baseball cap pulled low over his face, he found he was numb to everything. Except Charlie.