“I did a little bit of research while waiting for you to show up,” Emily said. “Gene-editing technologies are advancing every day but they are not at the point — and certainly not four years ago when this happened — where you can change your entire code. What happened with the Jane Doe case is a mystery. According to my source, Jane Doe had a lawyer ready to sue Orton and the school. His office conducted its own testing on the sample and got the same result. No lawsuit was ever filed.”
All three of us were silent for a moment before Myron spoke.
“So what’s next?” he asked.
It was my story and I wanted to be protective of it, but I had to acknowledge that Emily Atwater had moved it along in a big way.
“Well, one thing we have to remember is that William Orton is a shady figure, but what Jack is pursuing does not touch him — yet,” Emily said. “It bears further reporting but let’s look at where we are. The four victims we know about were GT23 participants. It is possible but not yet proved that their DNA could have been sold to Orton’s lab for his research purposes. Now add in that Orton appears to be a sexual predator and it all gets more interesting. But we have nothing concrete that connects one with the other.”
“Exactly,” Myron said. “I’m wondering how far we go with this without a stronger connection.”
Myron looked at me, which I took as a good sign. It was still my story and he wanted to hear from me.
“I think it’s part of throwing out the net,” I said. “We have to see what comes up. I think the thing to do is try to get inside Orange Nano and talk to Orton. Maybe get a feel for him from a direct contact. I’m not sure how to do that, though. I don’t think we should call up and say we’re looking into the murders of four women. We need another way in.”
“I was thinking about that,” Emily said. “Again, waiting for Jack today I was looking around for anything I could find on Orton and I found one listing for him in an annual report for the Rexford Corporation. He’s a member of the board.”
“What’s Rexford do?” I asked.
“Primarily, it’s hair products for men,” Emily said. “With an emphasis on alopecia — hair loss. It is on the rise in both genders and within five years is expected to be a four-billion-dollar industry.”
“Orton’s trying to cure it,” I said.
“My guess, too,” Emily said. “If he can discover or create the genetic therapy that cures it or even slows it down, then just think what that would be worth. He’s on the Rexford board because the company is funding his research and that could be our way in.”
“We say we’re looking into hair loss?” I asked.
“We follow the money,” Emily said. “Billions are being spent each year but there is no cure — not now. We go in with the consumer angle: How many of these treatments are worthless and where are we on the genetic cure? We play to Orton’s ego, say we heard that if anybody is going to make the breakthrough, it’s you.”
It was a good plan, only marred by my wish that I had thought of it first. I said nothing and Myron looked at me.
“What do you think, Jack?” he asked.
“Well, this alopecia research is new to me,” I said. “Jason Hwang told me that Orton was studying addiction and risky behaviors. Going bald is not connected with either — as far as I know.”
“That’s how these researchers work,” Emily said. “They get a ride on a Big Pharma ticket to do research in one arena and it funds their other research, the stuff that really holds their interest. Rexford is paying for the research they want but funding the research Orton wants.”
I nodded.
“Then I think it’s a good idea,” I said. “That’s our way in. Maybe we go through Rexford first. Get their corporate PR people to set it up, make it harder for Orton to say no — especially if he’s got something hinky going on down there.”
“That’s a good idea,” Emily said. “I—”
“I’ll call first thing in the morning,” I said. “Try to get it set.”
“Tell them there will be two of you on the interview,” Myron said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I want you both to go down there,” Myron said.
“I think I can handle it,” I said.
“I’m sure you can,” Myron said. “But for security reasons I want you both to go. Emily, take the Canon and you can take photos.”
“I’m not a photographer,” Emily protested.
“Just take the camera,” Myron said.
“What about Anaheim PD?” Emily asked. “You want us to tag-team that too?”
“I was going to go down there tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll find Detective Dig.”
Emily said nothing. I was expecting a protest, with her claiming it was her lead, but she didn’t make one.
“Okay, fine, you go, Jack,” Myron said. “But listen, I don’t want this to be a competition. Work together. I’m devoting half our staff to this. We can’t waste time. Find out if there is something there and if not, get out and move on to the next story.”
“Got it,” Emily said.
“Okay,” I said.
The meeting broke up after that and we returned to our respective work stations. The first thing I did was call the Anaheim Police Department and try to get a line on Dig. This turned out to be easy. I asked for the detective bureau and asked the woman who answered, “Can I speak to Dig?”
“I’m sorry, Detective Ruiz is gone for the day. Can I take a message?”
“No, that’s okay. Will he be working tomorrow?”
“He is, but he’s signed out to court all day. Do you want to leave a message?”
“No, I guess I’ll see him at the courthouse. That’s the rape case?”
This was an educated guess based on Ruiz working the Jane Doe/Orton case.
“Yes, Isaiah Gamble. Who can I tell him called?”
“That’s okay. I’ll see him there tomorrow. Thank you.”
After disconnecting, I pulled up the Orange County District Attorney’s Office website and plugged the name Isaiah Gamble into the search window. This led me to an extract on the case — abduction and forcible rape — and the courtroom it was assigned to in the courthouse in Santa Ana. I would be good to go in the morning.
I was writing the information down in a notebook when I was interrupted by a text from Rachel Walling.
You want to get a drink tonight?
It came out of the blue. I drop in on her unannounced for the first time in more than a year and the next day she wants to have a drink. I didn’t wait long to reply.
Sure. Where? What time?
I waited but there was no immediate reply. I started packing up for the day, shoving into my backpack everything I might need in Orange County the next day. I was about to get up and leave when I got the return message from Rachel.
I’m in the Valley. I could meet now or later. How about that place you met Christina? I want to see it.
I stared at my phone’s screen. I knew that she meant Mistral. That seemed a bit weird but maybe there was going to be more to the meeting than a drink. Maybe Rachel had changed her mind about my proposal to her. I texted back with the name and address and told her I was on my way.
I went by Emily Atwater’s cubicle on my way out. She looked up from her screen.
“I located Dig,” I said. “His last name is Ruiz. He’s going to be in court tomorrow on another case.”
“That’s perfect,” Emily said. “You should be able to get to him there.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. And also, I wanted to say sorry if it seems like I’m being a dick.”
“No, you aren’t. It was your story. I get it.”
I nodded.