danced in Jess’s stomach. “I really can’t leave the group.” Not exactly true yet not exactly false. No matter—she had zero intention of putting herself into an isolated position with this man.
There was something in his expression that wasn’t quite right. Something that went far deeper than a competitor or reporter’s interest into how New Horizon was run and how HC0815 worked. For lack of a better term, she’d have to call the look in his gaze one of danger. A looming threat. It was as if he’d erected a wall of emotional control that could give way at any time.
“You can ask me any questions right here.” She straightened. “Though I was quite forthcoming in my comments.”
A muscle in his jaw pulsed.
Jess had a momentary vision of a coiled spring about to come apart.
“I’d like to hear the facts you kept out of your tidy remarks.” His dark brows lifted toward his hairline.
Did the man think her a fool? “Who do you really work for, Mr. Levenson?”
He tapped the ID badge dangling from his neck. “Times Herald.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Well, then, if you’re not out to steal company secrets, you must be looking for a sensational story where there is none.”
He pursed his lips, an expression of pure confidence painting his features. “That so?”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “HC0815 is a groundbreaking drug, and the testing here at New Horizon leaves no room for sensationalism of any kind.”
His dark eyes widened. “You sure about that?”
Jess stole a glance at the departing group, now out of earshot and very soon to be completely out of sight. Anxiousness edged through her system.
She pointed to the folder of media materials with which Levenson and every other media showcase attendee had been provided.
“Every bit of information you need is in the packet.” She turned, fully intending to walk away. “I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to rejoin the group now.”
The man was obviously out to blast New Horizon in his paper. The less one-on-one time she provided him with, the better.
“So you know all there is to know about your clinical trial participants?”
Jess nodded, turning to face him. “What I don’t know, I have access to. Their participation is randomized and coded for anonymity. Similarly, they’re paid in cash. But I’m well versed with our results to date.”
“Which are?”
“Stellar.” She beamed. “This drug is going to save millions of lives.”
“Even if it kills a few trial participants along the way?”
Every ounce of enthusiasm drained from Jess’s body. Van Cleef had warned her about media reps being out for a sensational story. How sad that this man had chosen that tack and not a focus on how revolutionary the drug would be.
“I’m afraid I’m not interested in providing you with tomorrow’s headline, Mr. Levenson.” She turned back toward the group, now moving out of sight.
But Levenson’s fingers brushed against her elbow as she moved away. The momentary touch sent a jolt rocketing through her system.
“I’m not out for a headline.”
When Jess spun to face the man again, the intensity of his expression stopped her cold.
“Are you aware of how many trial participants have died?” he asked.
Jess squinted at him. Was he insane?
“None. The safety results are spectacular.” She jerked her head toward the group. “Shall we?”
“What about Jim Thomas, Ms. Parker? He jumped from a balcony after taking Whitman’s drug. Did you log that side effect?”
Suicide?
Ice raced through Jess’s veins, a sense of dread suddenly enveloping her and squeezing tight.
She’d heard of suicides during the trial periods for existing Hepatitis C medications, but HC0815? No. She’d certainly remember that detail.
“You must be mistaken. I don’t remember a participant by that name—and I’ve reviewed every application and case report form completed to date.”
Levenson stepped close. So close Jess was afraid he might hear how rapidly her heart beat in response to his allegation.
“I’d suggest you do a little digging.” He dropped his voice so low she had to strain to hear him. “You might want to go back to the first trial for HC0815.”
She frowned, shaking her head. “This is the first.”
Levenson pursed his lips and gave her a wry grin. “For Hepatitis C, but rumor has it the same drug failed to gain approval for another usage.”
Myriad thoughts whirled through Jess’s brain. Surely Van Cleef would have told her if there had been an earlier failed attempt for FDA approval. He certainly would have brought her up to speed on any suicide during the current trial.
She shook her head. “You’ve gotten bad information from somewhere, Mr. Levenson. You might want to check your source.”
He hesitated momentarily, and Jess thought she might finally have him backed into a corner. His next words shattered that illusion into countless pieces.
“I buried my brother last month, Ms. Parker. That particular suicide I can vouch for firsthand.”
She shook her head again. “I don’t remember a candidate with your surname.”
“Thomas.” The emotional strain in his voice had become evident. “Jim Thomas.”
“I thought your name was Levenson?” Jess frowned.
The man pulled a business card from his pocket, handed it to her, then turned toward the exit. “I lied. Use the cell number when you’re ready to talk.”
Chapter Two
Zach headed across the New Horizon parking lot toward his restored Karmann Ghia, mentally berating himself as he walked. So much for keeping his cover intact. He’d told the blonde his true identity five minutes into their conversation—and he used the term conversation loosely.
He’d expected her to be more open to what he had to say, but she’d done nothing except tout the company lines about HC0815.
Revolutionary.
Lifesaving.
Risk-free.
He knew she was wrong, knew it just as strongly as he knew he needed air to breathe. No clinical trial company should be allowed to get away with changing study results, and apparently that was exactly what New Horizon had become involved with. If the company was doing whatever it took to keep their multimillion-dollar-accounts and keep their pharmaceutical company clients happy, they had to be stopped.
And Zach was just the man to do so.
The Little Brother consumer watchdog group had contacted him at Jim’s funeral. Zach had thought their timing left a lot to be desired, but everything they’d said jibed with what his gut had been screaming.
HC0815 was the reason his brother was dead. The drug caused psychosis in a number of otherwise healthy clinical trial participants, and now one had died. Jim.
Zach’s heart squeezed as he dropped into the driver’s seat.
His brother deserved better than what he’d gotten. Far better.
Their parents had been killed in a multivehicle car accident when Jim was only thirteen and Zach twenty-six. Zach had spent the past seven years trying to be the mother and father