slutty treachery had temporarily weakened him, and it was difficult to do battle with a bruised heart and ego. Now he was determined to ignore his emotions and put an end to Sula’s campaign to ruin him. She was a self-involved reactionary, a do-gooder who had no idea of the scientific expertise and dedication that had gone into developing Nexapra. It was a miracle drug that would help thousands more people than it would harm.
Jimmy pulled up behind him at 12:07. Rudker took off without getting out of the car and speaking to the PI. People were paranoid about strangers these days. There was no point in attracting attention.
Chapter 29
Saturday, April 24, 8:17 a. m
“I’ve got your stash, if that’s what you’re looking for.” Jason yawned as he passed by on his way to the kitchen. His roommate had bed hair and was wearing yesterday’s clothes. Robbie abandoned his search under the table.
“I need to know how many I took.”
“There’s about five pills left in the bottle.”
“That means I only took about half.”
“Only?” Jason gave him angry glance.
“Hey, I’m sorry to put you through that. Thanks for taking care of me.”
Jason stopped rummaging through the cupboards and turned to face him. “I want you to get some help. Go see a counselor.”
“I will.”
“I mean it. Make an appointment today.”
“Shrinks aren’t open on weekends.”
“So call the UO hotline.”
“Okay.” Robbie moved into the kitchen and helped himself to a tall glass of water and two aspirin. Physically, he had never felt worse in his life, but emotionally he was recovering. “Hey, I’m all right. I have a plan.”
“What’s that?” Jason’s voice was thick with skepticism.
“Monday, I’m going back to Prolabs with the hope I still have a job. Then I’ll contact Food for Lane County and start volunteering.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know. Serving meals. Calling donors. Whatever they need me to do. I think it will be good for me to help others, to have a purpose.”
“Hmm. I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Jason poured himself a bowl of Captain Crunch. “But call the university’s crisis hotline today anyway.”
“Chill. I will.”
Jason offered him the box of cereal.
“No thanks. I’m not hungry.”
Robbie poured himself a cup of coffee, took one of his trial meds, then went out to the deck. He dug through the junk box until he found a partial pack of cigarettes he’d stashed a few weeks back. They were stale and slightly crushed, but he didn’t care. He needed the nicotine to stimulate his brain. His life was still shit but he wasn’t ready to give it up.
Sula woke up feeling better than she had in weeks. She would see Tate this morning-that always made her world seem right again. Then she would put the envelope in the mail and be done with the Nexapra business. She had no regrets about her involvement. She would sleep better at night knowing she had done everything she could to ensure the drug was brought to market in a responsible way. It was also a huge relief to have it behind her. Rudker gave her the creeps, and she was eager to move forward with her life and away from any involvement with him. She would take the first steps tomorrow: apply for jobs in the morning, followed by coffee with Aaron.
She scooted into the kitchen, made a small pot of coffee, then stepped out to get the paper. A bright blue sky boosted her spirits even more. She and Tate could play in the park again today. May was coming, followed soon by June and July. If she got custody, they could go camping this summer. And to the water park in Springfield. And to baseball games. Sula couldn’t wait.
As she turned to go back in, a tall male figure across the street caught her attention. The guy wore a black baseball cap, which didn’t seem to go with his khakis and leather jacket. But this was Eugene; there were no dress codes. The man disappeared from view behind a van, and Sula entered the house.
She cruised though the paper in twenty minutes. Normally she devoured every word of the political stories and commentaries, but not today. The oil was still pouring into the gulf, the wars were still raging in the Middle East, and she couldn’t change any of it. She wouldn’t let it get her down.
Sula checked her watch: 7:42. She still had two and a half hours before meeting Tate. She put on Quad City DJs, danced for forty minutes, then showered and made eggs and toast.
It was still only 8:45 and she didn’t need to be at Westmoreland Center until ten. Saturday morning before nine o’clock was not the best time to call one’s lawyer, but at the moment, she had the time and the nerve.
Barbara picked up on second ring and spoke in a bright voice. “Good morning, Sula.” Her lawyer was wide awake and checking caller ID.
“I’ve been meaning to call you.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“I lost my job. I thought you should know before the hearing.”
“Oh no. What happened?” She could hear a chair scoot in the background. Barbara was sitting down for the bad news.
“It’s a strange story.” Sula decided to give her the short version. Barbara didn’t need to be distracted with all the Nexapra stuff. “A scientist at Prolabs didn’t come to work for a few days. I got worried about her, so I went to her office.” Sula began to pace. “The company’s CEO-who’s a little crazy, by the way-saw me outside Dr. Warner’s office with some papers in my hand. He yelled my name and started running at me. It freaked me out, so I ran from him. Then he accused me of stealing and fired me.”
“That’s bizarre.” Barbara hesitated. “Running from him was a little weird too. Why do you think that happened?” Her voice was gentle. She knew Sula’s history.
“I was having a stressful day. You know the scientist who was missing? She was murdered. I had to identify her body at the morgue that morning. I was feeling a little jumpy.”
“I can see why.”
“How bad do you think this will hurt my custody case?”
“I don’t know.” Barbara hesitated again. Sula stomach knotted up. Finally, her lawyer spoke. “Last week, I wouldn’t have been worried. But on Friday, I got a call from Adam Bianchi, the attorney who represents Emily and John Chapman. He offered a settlement deal.”
“What deal? What are you talking about?”
“The Chapmans plan to bring up your family history at the hearing. Bianchi already prepared the brief. They argue that a history of mental illness could and should be a deciding factor in who raises Tate.”
“Oh God.” Sula collapsed on the couch. “That’s so unfair.”
“They’ve offered a deal. If you’ll drop your custody petition and terminate your parental rights, they’ll agree to bi-weekly, unsupervised visitation.”
Sula sucked in a sharp breath. She’d been pushing for more frequent visitation for a year. Now they were offering it to her, but she had to give up-forever-her dream of having Tate live with her. “You think I should take the deal, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily. The courts traditionally like to return children to their biological parents whenever they can. And you are a fit parent by any court standard. Even if we lose the custody hearing, we can still petition for more visitation.”
Stress flooded her system. To get Tate back, she would have to listen to lawyers discuss that tragic day when her father, mother, and sister all died. She might even have to talk about it. “They’re trying to scare me off.”
