Free The Suicide Effect by L. J. Sellers Page A

river and being attacked by a crazed man swarmed in her head as she drove back to Prolabs. The tranquilizer kicked in about the time she reached the parking lot and she was able to focus her thoughts. Although she felt entitled to take the afternoon off, this was her best opportunity to search Warner’s office and she was more determined than ever to do it. Warner’s work was too important to let it die with her. Too many lives were at stake.

Chapter 11
     
    Rudker’s first meeting Thursday morning didn’t wrap up until nearly ten a.m., and his jaws tensed with irritability. JB’s marketing people had been unprepared to discuss Nexapra’s market position, so they had talked about other products with little growth potential. What a colossal waste of time.
    With a growing sense of urgency to get back to Prolabs, he called JB’s head of R&D and left him a brief message, canceling their 10:30 meeting. Without notifying anyone that he was leaving, he took a cab to his hotel and asked the driver to wait. Fifteen minutes later, he was back in the taxi, overnight bag in hand. He hoped to make an afternoon flight and be at Prolabs before Peterson and the others went home for the day.
    Unlike the quiet of his arrival, SeaTac airport was a swarm of people mid-day. Rudker aggressively cut through the crowds with barely an “excuse me.” He needed to be first on the standby list.
    This time he was pulled out for a personal search. “Remove your socks, please.” The giant lesbian looked like a prison warden.
    “Why the socks?” Rudker made no attempt to be pleasant.
    “It’s part of the process, sir. Please just do it.”
    God damn, he hated showing his feet in public. His toenails were hideous. “This is ridiculous.”
    Rudker pulled off his socks, then stood still while the bitch ran her wand up between his legs and over his shoulders. He barely contained his urge to kidney punch her.
    The fat bitch behind the table took her time too, probing into every pocket and pouch of his bag. He had nothing to hide, but the invasion of privacy galled him anyway.
    “Do you have a prescription for this medicine?” The toad spoke loudly and held out his Zyprexa.
    “Of course.”
    “May I see it?”
    “You’re looking at it. Read the label. That’s my name.”
    “May I see your ID?”
    “I just showed it to you.”
    “Show it to me again.”
    They were fucking with him. It was clear to anyone. Rudker could hear the air whistling in and out of his nose. He pulled out his driver’s license again and held it up to her.
    “Let go of it, please.”
    The taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit down on the inside of his cheek. He reminded himself of what was important. Nexapra’s development. The merger. His career. He let her have the license.
    She looked at it closely, comparing the spelling of his name with that on the prescription. He wanted to smash her face. After a long minute she handed it back. “Have a nice flight.”
    “Unlikely.” Rudker grabbed his bag and bolted before they could humiliate him further.
    After a twenty-minute delay on the tarmac, his flight was short and uneventful. Halfway through it, he realized he’d forgotten to take his medication that morning. He pulled his bag down from the overhead compartment, dug out his meds, and popped one. He landed in Eugene just after four, grabbed a cab and headed for Prolabs.
    Sula entered the R&D building and walked briskly toward Warner’s office. Her plan was to be bold, so that no one would question her. If they did, she’d say the police had asked her to look in the office for family contact information. She had planned to do the search right after lunch, but the HR director had called Sula up to her office and spent an hour going over a list of things she wanted done immediately. Sula had completed most of them, while getting up every five minutes to look out the window to see if Marcy’s Scion had left the parking lot.
    Once she was in the R&D