Chapter 7 #2
“Whoever or whatever this Trelaskin is, Ace will find it.”
“Yeah.”
She turned and merged into traffic. “How come you don’t mind me driving? My ex was always fighting me for the driver’s seat.”
“Your ex sounds like an asshole prick.”
“No arguments there.” She dragged in a breath. “I think the problem was that I was in the military when we met. We never lived together, just saw each other on R&R. And not really that often.”
Ryder nodded. “It’s like you’re always on vacation. Not real life.”
“Right. He never saw the real me. And once he did, he wasn’t so enamored.”
Ryder reached over, gripped her thigh, and squeezed. “Because he’s an idiot.”
She shot him a smile.
“And back to the driving thing,” he said. “This isn’t my car. If it was, then my ass would be in the driver’s seat.”
“Do you have a car?”
“I do. I’m a BMW man, myself. I have a sexy i8. And my motorcycle.”
She raised her brows. “That sounds expensive.”
He shrugged. “I saved all my money when I was in the Air Force. Easton Norcross helped me invest, and I bought a building in Chinatown a few years ago. I did it up slowly, and the rents are good.”
“Impressive.”
“Yeah, well I still have an impressive mortgage to pay.” He leaned closer. “Let me take you out for a fancy dinner once we solve this case. Good food, good wine, you in a spectacular dress.”
Her blue gaze met his, direct. It was another thing he liked about her, that she didn’t mess around playing games.
“If we close this case, I might let you do that,” she said.
He grinned. “I knew I was growing on you.”
Once they reached the Norcross Security office, they headed upstairs and straight to Ace’s computer room.
The tech guru was leaning back in his chair, eating a bag of potato chips.
“Hi.” He flicked the microphone of his head set up. “I wasn’t expecting visitors. I’m running searches on similar DBs and got a hit on some results.” He nodded to the screens filled with data on the wall. “I sent them to your email, Siv.”
“Thanks. We might’ve found something.”
Ryder leaned back on the desk. “A guy who hangs out with Robbie, he was scared, said someone would kill him if he talked.”
Ace frowned. “That’s not good.”
“He said a word,” Siv said. “Trelaskin.”
Ace dropped his feet to the floor. “Trelaskin?”
“We need to find out who Trelaskin is,” Ryder said.
Ace tapped his keyboard, fingers moving fast.
“Nope. No names coming up. Let me try a few different spellings.” He leaned forward, groove forming on his brow. “Wait. I’ve got something.”
An article flicked up on the screen. It showed a picture of a couple who looked to be around thirty.
The woman wore a fitted, gray, business-style dress, her light-brown hair in a loose bun, with her arms crossed.
She was leaning against a man wearing a black turtleneck and black pants.
He had a square jaw and serious smile. They both had pale-blue eyes.
The pair was staring earnestly at the camera, looking smart and successful.
“I’ve seen these two somewhere,” Ryder mused.
“Caroline and Christian Foster. Up-and-coming biotech entrepreneurs who are taking Silicon Valley by storm. They’re twins, and by all accounts brilliant.
They both attended Stanford. From a wealthy family in Washington D.C.
Their father is a vice president at a large finance firm, and their mother works at Georgetown University.
Caroline and Christian’s company, Chiron, has made a breakthrough drug for treating cancer.
They say, with the right investment, they can cure all cancer within a decade. ”
Siv whistled. “Big claim.”
Ryder nodded. “Right. I’ve read the articles about Chiron. Saw the guy give an interview once.”
“What’s this got to do with Trelaskin?” Siv asked.
“Trelaskin is the name of their wonder drug.” Ace tapped a key.
A video flashed up on screen. The twins stood on a large stage with a big screen behind them, dominated by a DNA helix.
“Trelaskin has the power to save our world,” Christian Foster intoned.
He was handsome in a bland, everyman way, but with an emphatic look, and a strong, charming voice.
“Imagine if none of us have to lose a loved one to cancer ever again. A mother doesn’t die, a father doesn’t die, a sibling doesn’t die.” Caroline’s elegant face was filled with emotion.
“No one loses a child,” Christian finished. “Never again.”
“That’s the world—” Caroline spread her arms out “—Chiron, and our drug, Trelaskin, can bring about, with your help.”
On the video, the crowd broke into thunderous applause.
Ryder frowned. “What’s the status of this ‘miracle’ drug?”
“Still in preclinical research, it looks like. But the Fosters are busy drumming up investors to take it to the next level. Clinical trials. They want to start testing on humans.”
Siv sucked in a breath. “You think Robbie and Scratch were taking Trelaskin?”
Ryder shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“There’s no whiff of rumors that Chiron is up to no good, or using shady practices,” Ace said. “Stock prices are up. They have big names on the board. And everyone loves the Fosters.”
“Clean-cut, smart, well spoken, and wealthy.” Siv shrugged. “The kind of people who inspire trust.”
“Why would a tech company be giving their wonder drug to people on the street?” Ryder said.
“Illegal human testing on the vulnerable and disadvantaged has happened before,” Ace said. “These companies pay good money.” Ace lifted a brow.
Fuck . Ryder got a sick feeling in his gut.
“Trelaskin has one more hurdle before it’s approved for human trials.” Ace tapped. “They look legit, but I’ll dig a little deeper.”
“So, they don’t seem the type to run illegal human trials,” Ryder said.
“Maybe they have a rogue scientist?” Siv suggested.
“Or someone looking to discredit them,” Ace added. “From what I can see, the market loves Chiron. The twins are some of the youngest, new billionaires in the country. They have a huge lab out in Palo Alto.”
Ryder frowned. “I hope this isn’t a fucking dead end.”
Robbie deserved justice.
“Hey, it looks like Caroline and Christian Foster are giving a talk this afternoon to potential investors out at the Palo Alto Events Center,” Ace said.
Ryder straightened. “We could get a look at them up close and in person.” He glanced at Siv. “Can you pull off wealthy investor?”
She crossed her arms. “I can pull off anything, Morgan.”
“Okay, then give me your address, go home, and dress up in your best wealthy-woman outfit. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
Siv nodded. “You got it.”