Elementary, My Dear Watkins (33 page)

“I can imagine.”

“In the beginning, I really didn’t expect to have Alexa here for very long, perhaps a month at the most and then we would make more long-term arrangements. But she was very little trouble and really quite pleasant to have around. One month turned into two, which turned into three and, well, you know the rest. Given her age, living in a mansion with an old lady probably isn’t the best situation for her, but it’s certainly better than what she had at home.”

Much to Danny’s surprise, Georgette wasn’t as upset as he thought she’d be about the change of plans. Apparently, Luc had been her first choice for making the trip anyway because of his language skills.

“Let us be honest, Dah-nee. You may be a hard worker and a very likeable person besides, but you have been living in France for more than a month and your French still sounds like something you learned from a book. Yesterday.”

While she didn’t mind that the Africa trip had turned out as it did, she was not as happy about the fact that Danny might not be at his desk first thing Monday morning.

“I do not care which one of you comes back here to Paris and which one goes down to the Congo, but if I am not getting Luc back on Monday, then I need Dah-nee instead. It is that simple.”

“I’ll try, Georgette,” he said, knowing that it would be difficult, if not impossible, especially considering the time difference. That would give him only about 24 hours in the States before he’d have to turn around and get on an airplane to return. Considering that he wasn’t sure why he was going home or what he might find when he got there, he wasn’t going to make any promises. “Again, this is a family emergency. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Well, I tell you what is going to happen here. Wednesday, at the latest. You have until Wednesday. If you are not back by then, you do not need to come back.”

“That seems a little harsh.”

“It is a harsh business. I am not trying to be mean. I get dozens of internship applications every month. If you will not take advantage of this opportunity, then there are plenty of other people waiting in line who gladly will. An internship is not like a regular nine to five job, Dah-nee, where you can take personal time if you need it. By design, it is an intensive, three-month commitment that must be an absolute priority.”

Danny closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache just starting behind his eyes.

“I understand,” he said, feeling that same helpless urgency he’d felt when they offered him the internship in the first place—and then gave him only one week to wrap up his affairs, move to Paris, and begin. If the job hadn’t come with an apartment, measley as it was, he never could have made it work. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Please do,” she said, and then she said goodbye.

Sighing heavily, Danny hung up and tried to focus on his next call.

It was time to speak with Jo.

As he dialed her cell phone number, he decided that, unlike in last night’s conversation, she would have to be honest with him this time and tell him if anything strange was going on. The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he became about that whole interchange. Pumped about his trip and excited to hear her voice, he had done almost all of the talking. But now that he thought back on it, he realized that when he had asked her how she was or what she was doing, she would turn the conversation back to him. Even her brief mention that she was on her way to stay at her grandmother’s house seemed very odd in retrospect. Jo’s grandmother made her crazy. When had she ever willingly gone just to stay with her?

Was Jo hiding something from him? Just trying not to burden him? Or was he jumping to conclusions?

All he knew was that he had 30 minutes before they would begin boarding his next flight. Using the calling card, he dialed Jo’s cell and listened to it ring.

Jo could feel her cell phone vibrating from her pocket, but she decided to ignore it and call whoever it was back later. At least the volume was turned off, so that there was no ring tone to interrupt what her grandmother was saying. Eleanor was just getting to the part where she was explaining how Alexa’s situation had some bearing on Jo’s situation. Other than the Bradford connection, Jo still didn’t see how it related at all.

“Do you remember in the meeting here yesterday,” Eleanor said, “when Kent told you that one of our subsidiaries is at a major crossroads, and he and Neil have taken opposing views on the matter?”

“Yes.”

“The subsidiary in question is the pharmaceutical company. The argument between your father and your uncle has to do with the release of the information about Fibrin-X and its ADHD connection at next month’s symposium.”

Jo sat back and exhaled slowly as the phone finally stopped vibrating. That certainly wasn’t where she thought her grandmother was going with this.

“For very good reasons, Neil is eager to support Dr. Stebbins’ efforts, and he is doing everything he can to facilitate the development of the drug and prepare to get the word out about the findings. Your father, on the other hand, for equally good reasons, is opposing the release of data at this time. He thinks it’s extremely premature and wants to push the matter back by several years at least.”

“Several
years?
”

Jo’s phone began vibrating again, so this time she reached her hand into her pocket and simply turned it off.

“That’s not unusual,” Eleanor said. “The average drug takes twelve years to go from conception to completion. As it is, for every five thousand new substances developed, only five will make it to human trials, and of those only one will ever end up on the market. Drug development is a phenomenally costly endeavor.”

“Gran, while I appreciate having a little background here, I don’t really understand the implications. Your theory—and my father’s—is that someone is trying to kill me to gain control of my shares so that they can take this particular decision in one direction or the other. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Why on earth is this worth
killing
over? It sounds like any one of a dozen similar business decisions that these folks have to make every month. I just don’t see why it’s that big of a deal.”

“I’ll tell you why,” her grandmother said, folding her hands and putting them in her lap. “Because the average cost of bringing one new drug to market is one
billion
dollars. It’s an astonishing amount of money, but the return profits on successful drugs, if the process is handled correctly, are well worth it.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning the right decision here, on this particular drug, could mean a multibillion-dollar windfall for everyone involved. The wrong decision could bankrupt the pharmaceutical company.”

“Wow.”

“There is no room for error. Someone, it seems, wants to make certain this decision goes their way, even if it means they have to kill for it.”

Alexa woke up and glanced at the clock, trying to figure out how many hours she had slept. Not the full eight, but it would have to do.

She sat up on the edge of the bed and thought about how nice it was to have a day off, with no tutors or teachers or therapy or anything. She had a feeling she should play sick more often.

But now she needed a shower and then she thought she would go down and look for something to eat. She had to play this just right, because if she acted too sick the old lady might call in a doctor, but if she acted too well she might get mad that Alexa had asked them to cancel her lessons. Maybe later she would do some homework anyway, just to keep up. She needed to practice her piano too.

Most important on the agenda, though, was trying to figure out what Winnie had been doing last night in the old lady’s bathroom. When Alexa thought about what she had seen—Winnie crossing the lawn in the darkness, climbing into the house through the window, and messing with the old lady’s medicine cabinet—she couldn’t make any sense of it at all. But if she told the old lady or anybody else about it, she’d have to admit that she had snuck out herself, and that she couldn’t do.

As her tutor was fond of saying, it was a real catch-22.

Jo stepped outside, chilled to the bone despite the bright morning sunshine. Walking slowly toward the guest house, her mind was spinning with what her grandmother had told her, trying to make sense of it all. At least now she understood why someone was after her. When billions of dollars were involved, life suddenly grew a bit cheaper. Like the Bible said, the love of money was a root of all kinds of evil. And how.

Trying to put the conversation with her grandmother out of her mind for now, Jo continued toward the guest house, bodyguard in tow, eager to collect one last toaster so that she could get down to work. That would take her mind off of things, at least for a while.

Of course
, Jo thought as she walked up the stone path toward the small but elegant building,
getting this last toaster means facing the wrath of Winnie. I hope she’s calmed down by now
.

Jo reached the door and knocked but got no answer. She decided to try the greenhouse instead. As she went, she thought about Alexa, her heart going out to the girl. She seemed incredibly well adjusted, considering how much her life had changed in the past year. “The resilience of youth” was the phrase that came to mind.

Some kids could withstand so much and still come out shining in the end.