Acceptable Risk - Lynette Eason Page 0,83

you’re here and I’ll tell you where to meet.”

She hung up and Gavin raised a brow. “What was that about?”

“Caden said Max might be living at the hospital and they’re going looking for him. And . . . we’re heading to the hospital to meet Caden to fill him in, because he’s going to be a while. But I really think he needs to see this stuff from Dustin.”

“I agree.”

Sarah studied the paper with the red dots one more time. “Look,” she said. “Those dots match up with the states these people are from.”

“The people not on the list for the trial?”

“Yeah, they’re on the second list.”

Gavin pulled his laptop toward him and soon the sound of clicking keys filled the room while she pondered what it could all mean.

Heather had been so quiet, Caden had almost forgotten she was there, but when they headed out of Wilmont’s room, following the detectives and one of the members of hospital security down the hall, she stayed with him. “Can I see that?” she asked.

Elliott raised a brow but handed her the directions.

“I know where this is,” she said. “It’s actually a room used as storage.”

“You want to lead? It’ll be easier than trying to read that chicken scratch.”

“Sure.”

The CID agent brought up the rear.

When they arrived at the storage closet, the security officer swiped his key card, opened the door, and flipped on the light.

Caroline took the lead, weaving her way toward the back of the room. Metal shelves lined the walls, and more were placed in the center of the room, effectively creating a hidden area in the back, not visible from the door. Caden walked toward a bathroom while Elliott headed toward a pile of blankets against the back wall.

“Found the backpack,” Elliott called.

“And I found Mr. Xia,” Caden said.

After ten minutes of research, Gavin leaned back into the sofa cushion. “They’re all vets, obviously. A lot of them are dead. Suicides. Several survived suicide attempts.”

She frowned. “It’s the drug,” she said. She shivered and grabbed a sweatshirt from the back of the sofa and pulled it over her head. “Whatever that drug is, it’s not working and they’re covering it up.” She paused. “I wonder how close it is to being approved by the FDA?”

“That’s a good theory,” he said, “but Dustin said it was working, remember?”

She sighed. “Right. That doesn’t make sense. Then again, if you think about it, everyone we talked to said their relatives’ mood changed almost lightning quick. Brianne’s friend even said she was gone for less than an hour. When she left, Brianne was fine and planning a trip to Hawaii. When she got back, she was in the pit of despair.” She stilled as part of a conversation floated to the forefront of her mind. “Wait a minute.”

“What?”

“Dr. Kilgore and the other man I heard in the hallway of the hospital were talking about a drug. One asked if Brianne was on it, and when Dr. Kilgore said yes, the other guy told him to take her off of it.”

Gavin blinked. “Okay. What if it’s not the drug itself that causes suicidal thoughts . . . er . . . actions, but the withdrawal from it?”

She nodded. Then frowned and shook her head. “But Wilmont took the drug too, remember? Has he displayed any suicidal symptoms?”

Gavin pursed his lips. “No, but maybe two pills simply weren’t enough. He wouldn’t have withdrawals from that, would he?”

“I wouldn’t think so.”

“Then why was Max sending those pills to Brianne? To keep her from having withdrawals?”

“Has to be. Hopefully, Caden will have some answers by the time we get there.” She gathered the papers from the table and stuffed them into the manila envelope. She’d set the journal aside, convinced there was nothing in there but Dustin’s private thoughts. One day, she might read them—and share them with Caden—but for now, she knew there was no way she could read Dustin’s words and be privy to his most intimate thoughts without losing control of her emotions. Later, once the violent sting of his sudden passing had eased, she might be able to handle it.

Gavin took her plate to the sink, rinsed it, and stuck it in the dishwasher. Her jaw dropped. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

He turned and frowned. “Do what?”

“Load a dishwasher.”

He laughed. “It’s not rocket science.”

“Might as well be. Neither Dustin nor Caden ever learned how to do that.”

A knowing smile slid across his lips. “I guarantee you Caden knows how to

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