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“What about Allison?”

“Her suicide attempt should’ve exempted her, but if she didn’t self-report, they wouldn’t know.”

“Who gets in trouble for Tommy being enrolled in the study?”

“No one, really. You can always plead ignorance to the ethics committee. By law, every study has to have an internal review board that’s in charge of maintaining ethical standards. They’re comprised of people from the community. Doctors, lawyers, local businessmen. And always a priest or a minister, for some reason.”

“The ethics committee gets paid by the drug company, too?”

“Everybody gets paid by the drug company.”

“What about Tommy? When does he get his money?”

“At the end of the study. If they paid them ahead of time, most of them wouldn’t come back.”

“So, if the trial was nearing the end, then Tommy had a payday coming. And Allison, too. Maybe Jason Howell.”

Sara didn’t want to think about who had the biggest money motivation in this sordid mess. “For a three-month trial, it wouldn’t be out of the question that they would each be looking at around two to five thousand dollars for their participation.”

Will pulled into the parking lot of the clinic. He put the gear in park. “So, where’s the problem? We’ve got doctors making lots of money. Participants getting paid. Tommy shouldn’t have been in the study but it’s not like he was going to bring the whole thing down. Why would anyone kill two people over this?”

“The key is going to be finding out how many more participants were experiencing mood alterations like Tommy. Allison was depressed. You can read that in her journal. Tommy was acting out lately, getting into arguments when he never had before. He killed himself in jail. I don’t want to let Lena off the hook, but he could’ve been suicidal from the medication. In a study, if you get clusters of adverse events, it’s immediately shut down.”

“So, it would be in the doctor’s best interest not to have one of these adverse clusters. Not if he stood to make a lot of money on the trial.”

Sara pursed her lips, thinking of Hare. “Right.”

She stared out the window at the clinic. The front door was illuminated by the headlights. She could see the familiar layout of the lobby.

Will got out of the car and walked around to get the door for her. “I probably shouldn’t go inside with you. I know you’re the rightful owner and I’ve got your permission and all that, but the law is very strict about me looking through medical records. You’re going to have to play the concerned citizen and tell me what you find.”

“It’s a deal,” she agreed, though it occurred to her that he wouldn’t be much help reading the records anyway.

Sara walked to the front door with her keys in her hand. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been inside the building, but she didn’t have time to reflect. Just as she slid the key into the lock, she turned toward the police station. The movement was natural, something she had done every morning because Jeffrey usually waited across the street to make sure she got safely inside.

The streetlights were bright, the night air crisp, finally clear of rain. She saw a shadow standing by the window to Jeffrey’s office. The man turned. Sara gasped. Her knees started to give.

Will got out of the car. “Sara?”

She ran without thinking, pushing past Will, going down the hill toward the station. “Jeffrey!” she screamed, knowing it was him. His broad shoulders. His dark hair. The way he walked like a lion ready to pounce. “Jeffrey!” She stumbled as she reached the parking lot. The asphalt ripped her jeans. Her palms were scraped.

“Aunt Sara?” Jared jogged toward her with his father’s easy gait. He knelt in front of her, hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“I thought you were-” She put her hand to Jared’s face. “You look-” She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him as close as she could. Sara couldn’t help herself. She wept like a child. All the memories she had kept at bay for so long came flooding back. It was almost too much to bear.

Jared rubbed her back, soothing her. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s just me.”

His father’s voice. Sara wanted to close her eyes and pretend. To lose herself completely. How many times had she stood in this parking lot with Jeffrey? How many mornings had they driven to work together, kissed each other goodbye in this very parking lot? And then he would stand at the door to the station, watching her make her way up the hill, checking to see that she got inside safely. Sometimes, she could feel his eyes following her, and it took everything Sara had not to run back across the street for another kiss.

Jared asked, “Are you all right?” There was a tremor in his tone. She was scaring him. “Aunt Sara?”

“I’m sorry.” She dropped her hands into her lap. She didn’t know why she was apologizing, but she kept repeating the words. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right.”

“I thought you were-” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t say his father’s name.

Jared helped her stand up. “Mama says I look just like him.”

Sara couldn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. “When did you find out?”

“It’s kind of hard to hide.”

She laughed, the sound high-pitched and desperate in her ears. “What are you doing here?”

He glanced at Will. Sara hadn’t noticed him walk up. He stood a few feet away, obviously trying not to intrude. She told him, “This is…” She forced herself to say the name. “This is Jeffrey’s son, Jared Long. Jared, this is Will.”

Will’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets. He nodded at the boy. “Jared.”

“Why are you here?” Sara asked. “Is it because of Frank?”

Jared scratched his eyebrow with his thumb and forefinger. Sara had seen Jeffrey make the same gesture countless times. It meant he was upset, but didn’t quite know how to talk about it. Jared looked at Will again. There was something going on between them that Sara couldn’t follow.

She repeated her question. “Why are you here?”

Jared’s voice cracked. “Her car is here. I don’t know where she is.”

“Who?” Sara asked, but she already knew the answer. Lena ’s Celica was still in the lot.

“She was supposed to be home six hours ago.” He directed his words to Will. “I’ve been to the hospital. I tried to get in touch with Frank. I can’t find anybody who knows where she is.”

“No,” Sara breathed.

“Aunt Sara-” Jared reached for her but she put her hand flat to his chest, holding him back.

“You can’t be seeing her.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I don’t care. It’s wrong.”

He reached for her again. “Aunt Sara-”

She stepped back, stumbling into Will. “You can’t do this.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think?” she demanded, her voice rising in anger. “What am I thinking, Jared? That you’re sleeping with the woman who murdered your father?”

“It’s not like-”

Will grabbed Sara by her waist as she lunged at Jared. “She killed him!” Sara screamed, pushing Will away. “She killed your father!”

“He killed himself!”

She raised her hand to slap his face. Jared stood absolutely still, facing her, waiting for the blow. For her part, Sara felt frozen. She couldn’t strike him, but she couldn’t drop her hand, either. It divided the air between them like a knife waiting to fall.

“He was a cop,” Jared said. “He knew what the dangers were.”

She dropped her hand, because now she really wanted to hurt him. “Is that what she told you?”

“It’s what I know, Aunt Sara. My father loved being a cop. He was doing his job, and it got him killed.”