I’m weak, but here’s the thing. I’ve got PTSD. You don’t know how much it pains me to admit that, but I’m telling you so you understand where I’m coming from. I’m involved in a trial drug program. I signed up for it willingly because I suspect that it’s not all on the up-and-up, but I can’t figure out why. So, you might say I’ve signed up to be a guinea pig to get some answers. Although, I’ll admit my surprise that the drug is an amazing thing. The nightmares have stopped, the constant anxiety and jumpiness is gone. I haven’t had a flashback in weeks. I can sleep again. I honestly don’t know how to describe the relief.’”
A choking sound came from the man still standing just inside the door, and Sarah paused but didn’t look up. She drew in a shaky breath and blew it out slowly. The general scrubbed a hand down his cheek, and Gavin couldn’t decipher the look on his face.
“‘And yet,’” Sarah continued, “‘something’s going on. People are dying by suicide. I’ve done some research into those involved and some things aren’t adding up. There’s a psychiatrist in Kabul who’s working with several doctors in the States. Her name is Emily Winslow. Any patients who exhibit PTSD symptoms are sent to her hospital. She makes the diagnoses and prescribes the medication. She then writes the discharge order and sends the patients home to be treated at their local VA hospital.’”
The general gasped and Sarah finally looked at him. “Did you know?”
“No.”
“But you were the one who asked her to discharge me with the diagnosis.”
“I did, but not because I knew anything about this trial.”
“Was Dustin officially discharged?”
Her father shook his head. “I found out he got out the day he . . . died, but I never asked whether his tour was up or if he was discharged. I’m guessing since he was in the VA psychiatric ward for close to three months, Winslow discharged him like she did you.”
“Might want to find that out.”
He nodded. “Keep reading, please.”
“‘Anyway, I saw the piece you did on the bombing of the orphanage in Kabul. That was truly great work. I could feel the pain. Your article wept with those suffering and I was so proud—’”
Her voice cracked and she swiped a stray tear. Gavin wanted to gather her in a hug and take away her pain but didn’t think it was the right moment. Another shuddering breath and she read on.
“‘—so proud to tell everyone you were my sister. You’ve got a real gift for words and I hope you’ll continue to use that gift to keep impacting lives.’” She paused. “‘I don’t think I’ve ever told you anything like that before and I just felt like I should. Okay, back to the issue at hand.’” Sarah focused on Dustin’s final words. “‘I’ve included a list of all of the vets who were a part of the program. I had to get a friend to help me hack into Winslow’s computer, but I found what I was looking for. I don’t know that she’s actually hurting people, but not sure she isn’t either, because people are dying. It took me a little bit to figure out the names on the list are people who were a part of the program. When I came across my name, the drug they’re testing, and the dosage amount, it was pretty easy to deduce the rest of it. But then there was a second list. Twenty-six names, also with the name of the drug and the dosage. I tried to get ahold of a few of them to ask if they were part of the trial and I couldn’t get one person on the phone. I found obituaries for six of them. They’re from different parts of the country, but that can’t be a coincidence. Since I’m not sure someone isn’t trying to kill me, I figured with your bloodhound nose and bulldog tenacity, I’d send this to you and you’d figure it out. Please be careful. Ask Caden for help if you need it, but don’t let anyone else know I sent you this stuff. The journal is just for you to put in my safe-deposit box. You know where the key is. Don’t read it. It’s not your business. I just want it someplace safe in case the worst happens. And now that I’ve said that, you’re the only one I trust to do the right thing