Hypocrisy (31 page)

T.J. thought long and hard. “I see your point.”

“Great. Glad you’re finally realizing that my instincts are usually right.” She winked.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Dupree had one more piece of unfinished business, but decided to address it without T.J. She found him standing in front of the water cooler eating a Snicker’s bar.

“Early dinner?” Dupree asked.

“Something to tide me over.”

She noticed that he glanced at the handbag hanging from her shoulder.

“Where you headed?” he asked.

“Just have to run a few errands.”

“Need my assistance?”

“Everything’s under control,” Dupree said. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

“I may already be gone, so give me a holler on my cell if I’m not here when you get back.”

“Sure thing.”

Through crawling traffic Dupree drove over the Brooklyn Bridge and headed for Mrs. Crawford’s home. When she got there, the street was congested with parked cars, so Dupree found a spot two blocks away.

As in the past, roaming the streets of Brooklyn gave Dupree a feeling of nostalgia.

Making her way to Mrs. Crawford’s, she passed home after home, one more magnificent than the other. One in particular caught her eye.

She’d once lived in such a place. She remembered sitting on the front steps of her mom’s home without a care in the world, eating freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, washing them down with a glass of ice-cold milk. She could still smell the chocolaty scent coming from the oven as her mom baked the cookies to perfection. To this day, she’d never tasted a cookie quite as delicious as her mom’s.

As Dupree climbed up the front steps of Leona Crawford’s home, she remembered her first meeting with the woman—the day she had crushed her heart when she’d told Mrs. Crawford that her daughter had been murdered. Nothing Dupree could say or do could ever begin to erase Mrs. Crawford’s unimaginable pain, but Dupree hoped she could at least give her a breath of relief today.

Dupree knocked softly. Mrs. Crawford opened the door almost immediately. Quite to Dupree’s delight, the woman greeted her with a cordial smile. Her face revealed no obvious signs of distress.

Mrs. Crawford stepped to the side and motioned with her arm. “Please come in, Detective. It’s so nice to see you again.” Mrs. Crawford extended her arm and held Dupree’s hand.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Mrs. Crawford said. “Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, a soda?”

“No thank you, Mrs. Crawford.”

“What brings you to Williamsburg?” Crawford asked. “I hope you came to deliver good news.”

“I just wanted to let you know that we have arrested four people in connection with your daughter’s murder.”

Crawford’s eyes opened wide. She looked up at the ceiling. “Praise be to God.”

She grabbed a tissue, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose. “That’s…that’s fantastic news, Detective.” Mrs. Crawford inhaled deeply. “I can’t even imagine one person wanting to harm my
Lauren. But
four
? That’s unthinkable. Would it breach police policy if you told me who they are?”

The police department hadn’t yet disclosed the names of the three people charged with conspiracy to commit murder, or the name of the actual killer, so technically, Dupree really wasn’t supposed to share the arrest information with anyone. But at this particular point in time, she didn’t care about protocol. All she cared about was trying to ease some of Mrs. Crawford’s anguish. Besides, what would Mrs. Crawford do with this information, call
CNN
?

“I don’t know if this will shock you or not,” Dupree said, “but an ex-research scientist from Horizon, the CEO of a major pharmaceutical company, and a member of the FDA were all involved in the conspiracy. But the man who actually committed the crime was basically a hired gun.

“Nothing you’re saying is shocking me, Detective. I am surprised that neither Dr. Mason nor Jonathan Lentz’s names came up. I never really trusted Dr. Mason. And I would suspect you know how I feel about Jonathan Lentz.”

“We have no evidence to support the theory that Dr. Mason was involved. Lentz did play a small role, but really wasn’t part of the conspiracy. Unfortunately, he got caught in the middle of a tangled web and ended up a murder victim himself.”

“That’s very sad.” Crawford wiped her eyes again. “I’m glad you found the monsters who took my Lauren. Nothing will bring her back. But at least I can sleep at night knowing that justice will be served.”

“Have you found anyone to escort you to Tijuana for your next treatment?”

“I talked my nephew into accompanying me. It took some convincing, but he’s really a good boy.”

“When are you leaving?”

“In two days.”

“I hope you have a safe trip and that your treatment goes well.”

Mrs. Crawford’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you for…everything.”

They were both silent for a long time.

“I would like to share something with you, Detective. Something highly confidential. Do you have a little free time?”

Dupree didn’t, but sensed urgency in her voice. “Of course.”

“I can’t remember exactly when it all began, but it was about two years ago. For whatever reason, my level-headed daughter became paranoid and feared that if something ever happened to her, no one would finish her research, or it would end up in the wrong hands. You see, Lauren, more than anyone, knew that not everyone in healthcare wanted to see a more effective, affordable treatment for cancer. Or even a cure. Greed is a powerful force.

“Lauren’s biggest fear—perhaps the most significant reason why she was so concerned about her welfare—was that upon her death, Dr. Mason would likely partner with a major pharmaceutical company, one that would stand to gain unimaginable profits. She refused to allow any pharmaceutical company the right to charge an obscene amount of money for the cancer-fighting drugs Horizon researchers developed. So, she devised a contingency plan—a plan to ensure that not a single cancer patient in the world would be denied treatment because they couldn’t afford it.”

“Was there conflict between Lauren and Dr. Mason?” Dupree asked.

“I don’t know if I’d call it conflict. But there were many issues upon which they disagreed. Particularly, Lauren had frequent discussions with Dr. Mason about his desire to partner with a major pharmaceutical company. Her concern escalated a few months ago when she noted Mason’s unusual behavior. In fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Lauren had asked Dr. Mason for
a letter of resignation. To coin a phrase, they just weren’t reading off the same page of music.”

Mrs. Crawford paused for a minute and stared off into the distance. “I know that you’re a very competent detective. And I’m sure you’ve completed a thorough investigation. Still, I’m not convinced that Dr. Mason wasn’t part of the conspiracy.”

“Sorry you feel that way. But at this point, we really don’t have any evidence that implicates him.” Dupree could see Mrs. Crawford’s eyes tear up. “If you don’t want to continue—”

“I do, Detective. I do.”

Dupree watched a tear trail down the broken woman’s cheek. She wiped it away with the palm of her hand.

“Remember Lauren’s work with Hulda Clark and Dr. Orlando Garcia at the Century Nutrition Clinic in Tijuana? If you recall, Dr. Clark died in two-thousand-nine and Lauren stayed in close contact with Clark’s successor, Dr. Garcia. He is a brilliant medical doctor and research scientist whom my daughter implicitly trusted and respected. Well, quite a while ago, Sidney Goldman, the gentleman funding Horizon, Dr. Garcia, and Lauren met at the Tijuana clinic and worked out a strategic plan. Mr. Goldman is very influential with the pharmaceutical industry. He knows most of their CEOs on a first name basis. And he also carries a great deal of clout with the FDA. Not that Lauren would ever want him to ask the FDA to cut corners or compromise their thorough evaluation, but Mr. Goldman is a good guy to have in your corner. They agreed that if anything ever happened to Lauren to prevent her from completing the research, Mr. Goldman would stop funding Horizon and instead, fund Century Nutrition Clinic under the direction of Dr. Garcia. As a matter of fact, the ultimate plan was to expand the facility in Tijuana, hire more researchers, and update all of the laboratories with the latest state of the art equipment.

“Although Dr. Garcia is an American citizen, because of his prior relationship with Dr. Clark, he is prohibited from dealing
directly with the FDA or marketing any prescription drugs in the United States. However, if he partners with a well-respected American pharmaceutical company, which Sidney Goldman would coordinate, they can submit the application to the FDA for approval. Once approved, Dr. Garcia would work directly with the pharmaceutical company to manufacture and distribute the cancer medications in the United States and worldwide, ensuring that they are affordable, comply with the strict FDA guidelines, and are available to anyone who needs them.

“But how is Dr. Garcia going to complete the research when he doesn’t have access to Horizon’s computers or main server?”

Mrs. Crawford excused herself, walked over to a small desk, and opened the center drawer. She removed a black rectangular object about the size of a brick and held it up for Dupree to see.

“I removed this from a safety deposit box yesterday. Know what it is?” Mrs. Crawford asked.

“Looks like an external hard drive.”

“Exactly. And guess what it contains.”

Dupree shrugged. “Not sure.”

“It contains all the data and every clinical trial that Lauren compiled since day one of her research. And she updated it daily. Every afternoon, she’d take what she called her ‘sanity break’. She’d go to the bank, which was only a few blocks away from Horizon, remove the hard drive, and bring it to Starbucks where she could plug it into a wall socket and use her iPad to download the latest data.

“The obvious question that Lauren faced was how she could be sure that Dr. Mason and his new partners wouldn’t complete the research and apply to the FDA before Dr. Garcia and his pharmaceutical partners. I could bore you with the details but at this point, it really doesn’t make any difference because of the latest developments and the arrests you made, so the entire scenario has changed. Dr. Garcia, with the help of Sidney Goldman,
will undoubtedly prove Lauren’s theories, apply to the FDA, and change the world. I don’t think that Lauren ever truly believed that her life was in danger. She just wanted to be sure that all the bases were covered and that her research would continue.”

Stunned by the amazing story, Dupree was speechless.

“So there you have it,” Mrs. Crawford said.

Dupree’s head was spinning and she had a million questions. She decided to let it rest for the time being. “That’s incredibly ingenious.”

“I told you my daughter was a brainiac.”

Dupree looked at her watch. “I really have to get moving. Mind if I give you a hug?”

The corners of Crawford’s mouth turned up. “I’d really like that.”

They held each other tightly for a long time. Dupree’s eyes were misty. As she reached for the doorknob, Mrs. Crawford stopped her.

“Just a thought. Don’t you think we now know each other well enough to be on a first name basis?”

“You’re absolutely right…Leona.”

“I hope that I see you again, Amaris.”

“Likewise.” Dupree could tell that Leona was getting choked up. “I promise to keep in touch. As a matter of fact, once I get back in the swing of things, why don’t you join me for dinner some evening at my place? You can see the place I call home and meet Ben and Alex, my kitties. I must warn you though that I’m not the best cook, so don’t set your expectations too high.”

“I’d be happy with a grilled cheese sandwich. It’s not about the food, my dear, it’s about the company.”

Dupree felt a strong mother-daughter connection to Leona. She could not deny that Leona could easily become a mother figure in her life. Not a replacement for her mother—no one
could assume that role. And who knows, maybe in some small way Dupree could fill the emptiness Leona felt for her daughter. Whatever the case, Dupree felt certain that Leona and she would cultivate a meaningful friendship.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“Hey you,” T.J. said.
Dupree had just stepped in the door of her apartment, balancing her cell phone between her ear and shoulder.

“Did you do everything you had to do?” T.J. asked.

“I did.”

“Great. I know tomorrow is Saturday, but any chance I can see you in the afternoon?” T.J. asked.

His request caught her completely off guard. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about a casual stroll around Central Park? It’s supposed to be seventy-five and sunny tomorrow.”

“I’d like that,” Dupree said. “What time did you want to meet?”

“How about two o clock?”

“That works.”

“Let’s meet at the fountain in the Conservatory Garden.” T.J. suggested.

“Perfect.”

“Sleep well. Looking forward to seeing you, Amaris.”

Something in his voice sounded different than normal. Not bad-different. But different. “Have a good night, T.J.”

Moments after ending the call, Dupree’s mind kicked into warp speed. Why did T.J. want to meet her—on a Saturday afternoon no less? The only other time they had spent personal time together was when they went for drinks and she poured out her
heart and told her story. Something was up. And she didn’t have a clue what it was.