The Suicide Effect
Novels by L.J. Sellers
Detective Jackson Series
Secrets to Die For
Thrilled to Death
Passions of the Dead
Dying for Justice
Liars, Cheaters & Thieves
Standalone Thrillers
The Sex Club
The Baby Thief
The Arranger
The Suicide Effect
Nonfiction
Write First, Clean Later:
Blogs, Essays, & Writing Advice
THE SUICIDE EFFECT
Copyright © 2010 by L.J. Sellers
All rights reserved. Except for text references by reviewers, the reproduction of this work in any form is forbidden without permission from the author.
ISBN 978-0-9795182-2-5
eBook ISBN: 978-0-9795182-3-2
Published in the United States of America
Spellbinder Press
Eugene, OR 97402
ljsellers.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, locations, or events is coincidental or fictionalized.
Cover art by Gwen Thomsen Rhoads.
www.gwenrhoads.com.
Digital Editions by:
booknook.biz
Contents
Novels by L.J. Sellers
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
About the Author
An Excerpt from… The Baby Thief
Chapter 1
Monday, April 12th, 2:35 p.m.
Sula started to walk away, but the conversation in the conference room grew loud and pulled her back. Karl Rudker’s salesman-smooth voice was stretched thin with stress. As CEO, he rarely made a point to speak with her—or anyone without a VP in front of their title—but Sula avoided him anyway. The other frustrated voice behind the door belonged to Diane Warner, the head of research and development. She was a petite woman with a surprisingly big sound. The two most powerful people in the company were arguing about Nexapra, an antidepressant Prolabs had been working on for years but now everyone was suddenly excited about.
A mention of “JB Pharma” made Sula step closer to the door. She glanced down the short hallway to see if anyone had noticed her. The door to the human resource department was closed, and the elevator was silent.
Not that it made a difference. She had a right to be here. Rudker and Dr. Warner had agreed to meet her in the conference room to give statements for the press release Sula was working on. JB Pharma, based in Seattle, was acquiring their company and as a public relations assistant, it was her job to write up the announcements. She had cranked out quite a few high impact press releases lately. First, Nexapra’s amazing clinical trial results had set the research and investor community buzzing. Then the big drug companies had come calling. JB’s $2.5 billion dollar offer had won the bidding.
The voice was a little muffled, but Sula was certain she heard Diane Warner say, “We have to tell them about the first set of data. It could change everything.”
The declaration sent a tingle up her neck. What could change everything? Was something wrong with the data? She had been sending out glowing press releases about the drug for weeks. Were they all wrong? She needed to know what they were talking about. Sula remembered the conference room opened onto a smoker’s balcony on the other side and the exterior door was almost always open this time of year. She moved quickly, afraid the argument would be over before she got there.
Serves you right, she heard her mother’s voice say in her head.
Sula kept moving. She had a right to hear the conversation. She had created the promotional material that encouraged doctors to enlist their patients in the Nexapra trials. If there was a problem with the drug, she needed to know.
Down the hall and through the executive lunchroom, the steady click of her low-heeled pumps echoed in the empty rooms. Sula slipped out onto the balcony and glanced at her watch. Fifty-two seconds. A weak April sun filtered though the clouds and warmed the rain-soaked cement. Staying close to the building, she moved toward the conference room doors. She wished she had a cigarette to explain her presence in case anyone came out while she was lurking around, but she had quit smoking six months ago. Mostly.
The argument was still in full swing. From her new position next to the partially open door, Sula caught glimpses of Warner as she paced back and forth in front of the window. Middle-aged with close-cropped silver hair, the doctor gestured with both hands.
“The new owners have a right to know about the deaths in the early trials,” Warner insisted. She held out her hands and used her fingers to tick off her points. “The two patients who committed suicide in the Puerto Rico study were cousins, and I think I found a genetic marker that made them susceptible. Two: Developing a screening test can be accomplished in less than two years.”
Warner paused, and Sula was grateful. She was still reeling from hearing that people taking Nexapra had killed themselves. Warner seemed to think it was the drug’s fault. How could that be? The medication was supposed to help people who were depressed. She thought of the patients’ families, the grief they had experienced and were still feeling. The
why?
questions that would never be answered. She knew first hand what they had gone through. Those questions still haunted her.
Then the guilt hit her. She had helped bring those patients in!
Sula noticed the notepad still in her hand. She reached into her jacket pocket for a pen and instead found the tape recorder she’d brought for her session with the two executives. She pressed the record button as Warner continued, “If we get the 3,000 patients we need for the Phase III trials, the incident rate could be high enough to cause FDA to reject our application anyway.”
“Horseshit,” Rudker thundered.
Sula aimed the microphone toward the open door.
“The percentage of suicides in the Puerto Rico trial was lower than the national average. You cannot conclude that Nexapra caused those deaths.”
Warner stopped pacing for a moment and drew in a long breath. “Goddamn it, Karl. They killed themselves within a month of starting on the drug. We have an ethical responsibility to find out why.” Under the anger, the doctor sounded tired. Sula wondered if the recorder had picked up her counter argument.
Rudker suddenly moved into view. He had thinning blond hair and sharp Nordic features, and at six-foot-two he towered over Warner. “JB Pharma might not see it that way,” he said, his voice nasty with sarcasm. “As far as they’re concerned, Nexapra is a potential blockbuster with a very good side-effect profile. If we tell them differently, they’ll withdraw their offer. We don’t have the cash to continue on our own. Do you want to bring this company down?”
“But we’ve only–”
Rudker cut her off. “If we develop a screening test, we’re obligated to use it. And that jacks up the cost of R&D, slows down the FDA approval process, complicates marketing and prescribing, and in the end, substantially limits the market. And for what? A statistically insignificant risk for people who are prone to kill themselves anyway.”
Sula sucked in her breath, stunned by the man’s coldness. The room was silent, and she wondered if Dr. Warner had walked out. Unbelievable. Prolabs’ tag line was “Putting Patients First.” Sula had bought into that motto. She had felt like she was part of something bigger and better than herself. Clearly, the slogan was just corporate branding, a pretty package wrapped around a pile of deceit and greed. At least for Rudker, anyway.
“We’re going ahead with Phase III clinicals,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’d better not tell anyone else about your theory.”
Warner didn’t respond.
“The merged company doesn’t need two heads of R&D.”
Warner stiffened. “So? I’m good at what I do and I get job offers all the time.”
“That could change.” Rudker lowered his voice to a mean whisper. “Too much is at stake here. Don’t cross me on this.”
After a long silence, Warner spun around and headed into the interior hallway.