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Authors: Kim McMahill

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BOOK: A Taste of Tragedy
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
 

Morgan dried the last dish and placed it in the cupboard. She had a dishwasher but hated to run the machine for the few meager dishes she generated. By the time she could actually fill it, food would be so crusted on she doubted anything could scrub them clean.

Pulling her cell phone out of her back shorts pocket, she stared at the sleeping screen, willing it to ring. She wasn’t sure if she was more interested in finding Stan Jacobson or hearing her ex’s voice.

When he said he would look into her issue, she had no doubt he would find the answer she sought, despite how things ended between them. His job was important and he was very good at what he did. She realized too late that she should have understood how much it meant to him and considered the compromises he had laid out. People like him were needed, and they didn’t make nearly enough money for the sacrifices they made and the risks they took.

What do I contribute to society, besides healthy donations to a couple charities?
Morgan considered the question as she wandered into the living room.

She had spent her adult life scrambling up the corporate ladder. She didn’t need the money. Her parents had left her plenty, but she toiled out of fear of being the first in the family to fail. She had broken up her marriage, stepped on plenty of toes, pushed ahead of those who probably needed the money to raise a family, and turned marginal products into huge successes. This time, she may have found her limit of what she was willing to do to succeed. If the claims about MFHG3 had merit, she couldn’t look the other way.

The phone rang and she picked it up on the first ring, chastising herself for appearing too eager.

“Morgan,
it’s
Nick.”

“Thanks for calling back.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have good news. The man in the obituary is the Stan Jacobson you replaced. His death was a drug overdose. There was no evidence indicating foul play.”

“Was it accidental or suicide?”

“There was no note left behind, if that’s what you’re asking, so there’s really no way to be sure. He had no family, had gotten fired from a huge job and hadn’t located another, and was starting to accumulate a lot of debt, so suicide seems the most likely scenario.”

Even though Morgan had suspected the outcome, she had hoped for different news. At least his death was at his own hand, or so it seemed. If his death was under questionable circumstances, it would have freaked her out.

“Thanks for checking. I really hated to ask, but I felt it might be important.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“There’s a lot. Most of it has to do with confidential work stuff concerning one of our products, and some is probably just an overactive imagination. I know you’re busy. I’m sorry to waste your time.”

“Morgan, you haven’t called me in nearly a year. Are you in trouble?”

“I don’t think so. Well, maybe I’ll get fired for asking too many questions.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that prospect.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think since the divorce. I’ve come to the realization I may have had some misguided priorities. If my boss wants to get rid of me for trying to make sure we’re putting out a safe quality product, then so be it. I’ve made some marginal decisions along the road to get where I am that I can’t say I’m entirely proud of.”

“Do you want me to come down for a long weekend? We can talk, and maybe I can help.”

Morgan was afraid she might cry, and she desperately wanted to say yes. She knew Nick seldom got a weekend off, and after not speaking for so long, he was still willing to drop everything and fly down to
Phoenix
to listen to her problems. She had been such a fool to let him go.

“I can’t ask you to do that. I know you hardly ever get a weekend off, but I appreciate the offer.”

“You’re not asking, I’m volunteering. Maybe I should have tried a little harder to take a few more weekends off.”

She had to end the call quickly. Even though she loved hearing his voice, if she broke down and sobbed, he’d probably jump on a plane tonight. She didn’t feel worthy of such a selfless act after her selfish decisions in their relationship. He hated to see her cry and had always tried so hard to make things better.

“I’ll think about it. I had hoped I’d have some answers today that would help me decide what to do about the job, but surely by tomorrow, I’ll know more. I took the job because it sounded like a challenge, but also to spend more time in Sedona. I may just spend a lot more time in Sedona than originally planned,” she said with a chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Will you call me tomorrow night? I can tell whatever you’re going through at work is really bothering you, and I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She doubted it was a good idea to continue contact with Nick, but it felt good to talk to him. She knew that despite everything that happened, he would be there for her if she needed him. He was just that kind of guy.

“Yes, I’ll call, but I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

Morgan disconnected. She sat for a moment in silence, hoping that there truly was nothing to worry about and that everything would be fine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
 

“Hey, Devyn, everything’s ready for the stakeout tonight. It’ll be great. Mom made cinnamon rolls this morning for breakfast and sent all the leftovers for tonight,” Gordo stated as he caught her as she exited the elevator.

“Great. Unless something else comes up, I guess we’ll meet back here at eight.”

“Fitz and I will be here with the van, ready to roll,” he replied, nearly skipping alongside her as she strode toward her desk.

“Is there anything else you want me to bring? Do you still drink your coffee black?”

“Yep, black’s good. In fact, I wouldn’t mind a cup now if you’re heading to the break room. I’m still not quite awake.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Devyn didn’t appreciate Gordo’s enthusiasm. The people who really knew her avoided chipper chitchat until at least after her first cup of coffee, but she didn’t have the heart to snap at him. With most people, she didn’t really care, but she hated seeing the hurt look in his innocent, if not a little too over-eager, eyes.

“Please tell me something else has come up,” Devyn stated while glaring at the satisfied expression on Nick’s face.

“Actually, I made good progress on the Risky Research case while you were on your date with Sheriff Harris. Unfortunately, though, nothing that should interrupt tonight’s stakeout.”

Devyn opened her mouth to argue about Nick’s “date” comment, but then her mind flashed back to the steamy kiss they had shared and the flirtatious teasing over lunch, and she decided to let it go. She forced her mind back to the issue at hand and listened as Nick filled her in on Frank’s identity, the small amount of history he’d uncovered on the man’s life, and the link of large bank deposits coinciding with the timing of all the known pharmaceutical incidents.

“Interesting that Frank hails from one of the most important biopharmaceutical manufacturing areas in the world,” Devyn stated.

Nick’s fingers flew across the keyboard and he quickly scanned several articles his search turned up.

“Hmm, about fifty of the eighty pharmaceutical plants scattered across
Puerto Rico
are FDA approved. The industry accounts for over a quarter of the country’s gross domestic product. It’s the fifth largest pharmaceutical manufacturing area in the world and the third largest biotechnology manufacturer.”

“Coincidence? I think not.”

Nick smiled. “I agree. I’m trying to track where Frank’s deposits came from, and I’m still working on picking Janice Green’s trail back up, but this gives us another angle to pursue.”

“Stay on those. I’ll start digging into the pharmaceutical and biotechnology companies in
Puerto Rico
. I’ll make a list of all of the manufacturers on the island and see how many have a large stake in diet products.”

“So, how did things go with the sheriff?”

“We had a nice lunch at a great little Mexican restaurant. He just sold his old place and bought a small horse property a few miles east of town. He said he has some business here in
Salt
Lake
later this month.”

Nick struggled to hold back the laughter. “I meant with the hearing. I assume we got indictments on the two guys.”

“Oh, yes, the two guys were indicted.”

Devyn was so embarrassed she couldn’t look Nick in the eye. She had no doubt he was deriving great pleasure from further confirmation of her feelings for Gage.

“I shouldn’t take advantage of Gordo. I’ll go grab my own coffee. You need a refill?”

“Nope, I couldn’t be better.” He grinned as Devyn struggled to get away from him as quickly as possible.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
 

Morgan swung by the plant before heading up to her office for the morning. She had promised Wiley that she wouldn’t ask about Stan ever again, but she thought Wiley might want to know the man was dead.

“Good morning, Ms. Hunter. What can I do for you?”

She stood next to him at the rail, overlooking the conveyor belt as entrees were already rolling toward the quick-freeze freezer. The knowledge that the products might contain a dangerous substance made her shudder and made her more determined than ever to get answers. Today.

“I know I promised to stay away from the subject of Stan, but I learned something last night that I thought you might want to know.” She waited, hoping he would ask what, but he just stared straight ahead, so she forged on. “I was searching the Internet, trying to locate him, and came across his obituary. Apparently he died of a drug overdose.”

Wiley didn’t flinch. The man gave no indication as to what he was feeling. She couldn’t tell if he was surprised, shocked, or sad. He just stood for several more minutes in complete silence.

When the silence became too uncomfortable, Morgan lightly touched his arm. “I’m sorry I broke my word, but I thought you might want to know. You indicated he was an okay guy and you worked together for a long time.”

She lowered her hand and turned to leave. She’d taken one step before Wiley’s voice stopped her, though it was barely above a whisper.

“He was a deeply religious man. He would have turned to God for comfort, not drugs.”

Morgan nodded that she had heard. As she glanced back down at the production line, she spotted Aaron standing in the shadows, watching her. Their eyes met. She quickly descended the stairs to catch Aaron in case he hustled off again and tried to claim he wasn’t there. The effort was unnecessary. He waited for her at the bottom of the steps.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he replied.

“You could have called or had me paged.”

“I was just trying to save you a trip. Here,
Preston
wants you to drive him to the airport so you can talk. He’s waiting in the lobby.”

Morgan snatched the keys off Aaron’s outstretched palm and exited the plant. As she neared the end of the hallway, she spotted
Preston
looking at his watch.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said as she punched the down button on the elevator.

“We’ll be cutting it a little close, but Aaron indicated you were anxious to talk. I do have news for you. Aaron said he would rearrange your meetings. If we don’t chat now, it’ll be a while. I won’t be back for two days. I’ve got a business meeting in
Miami
. It came up at the last minute and I can’t get out of it.”

Morgan settled behind the wheel of the company town car while
Preston
stowed his carry-on in the trunk. Once he was belted in, she pulled out of the dark garage, feeling less vulnerable in the sun.

“When I got in this morning, the lab results on MFHG3 were on my desk. The tests confirmed there are no safety issues with the product. As you know, the sweetener is derived from all-natural ingredients deemed safe for human consumption. Dr. Chen suggested that possibly Stan provided this third-party analyst with a different product or a tainted sample. He also suggested the possibility of human error or inappropriate tests, like injecting high concentrations into a mouse. You inject high enough concentrations of anything into a small body and you’re likely to get negative results.”

“That’s a huge relief,” Morgan responded as she took the exit off the interstate leading to the airport. “I appreciate you taking my concerns seriously and looking into the situation. I always say, ‘better safe than sorry,’ especially in our field. If any of the allegations were true, taking a proactive approach to damage control is essential, as you well know.”

Morgan pulled up to the unloading zone, put the car in park, and popped the trunk. She hoped he would just get out, but he sat there, staring at her for a moment.

“I need you to put this behind us and focus on what I hired you to do. You came with a reputation of doing whatever it took to get the job done, and every product or division you have taken over has become very profitable. You’re known as a bit of a shark, and I need to see some teeth. Can you do that?”

Morgan wasn’t sure. She doubted she could just take his word on the product’s safety without an impartial review, or at least more information on the quality of Dexter Fowler’s work. If she followed up on Dexter and found out that he wasn’t qualified or had a poor track record, maybe then. For now, she needed proof.

“Can you?”
Preston
demanded, interrupting her thoughts.

She smiled and nodded an affirmative. “Now, go before you miss your plane. Have a good trip.”

“Okay, we’re good? Trust me on this. Safety is always my number one priority. When I get back, I’ll take you out to dinner and give you that orientation to the city I should have done a couple weeks ago. I really would like to get to know you better outside the confines of the office,” he said as he squeezed her knee and exited the car.

With that chilling thought, the door slammed. Morgan waved and waited until he disappeared into the terminal before pulling away from the curb, even more confused than ever about what she should do.

BOOK: A Taste of Tragedy
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