my dedication is the issue here,” she said evenly. “Don’t you understand? I’m too stunned to even comprehend what all this means. I need time, information and the insight to make some decisions. I really don’t know what you expect from me.”
“You will, if you’ll give me a chance to explain. Please, Carolyn. Just hear me out. Then I’ll give you the time you need to come to terms with what I’m asking.”
His gray eyes were like grappling hooks locking her gaze with his. An undefined warning stirred deep within her. She wanted to turn away, but couldn’t. Whether she wanted to or not, she was going to have to deal with this.
She moistened her lips. “All right. But not here in the car. We can talk better inside.”
He nodded, and quickly got out and came around the car to open her door. Without talking, they walked around the house to the outside staircase that led to her apartment. She could feel his warm breath on her neck as she secured her key in the lock and opened the door.
The tiny kitchen was a mess. She’d slept in late and barely made it to her ten o’clock appointment with Bancroft. The tiny living room wasn’t much better, and Carolyn wished she’d shut the bedroom door so he couldn’t see the discarded clothes on her bed. She’d tried on several outfits before deciding on the summer skirt and blouse.
She swallowed back any apologies or explanation. The apartment was sparsely furnished with the land-lady’s cast-off furniture. Most of it would have gone begging at a garage sale. An old, scarred desk was loaded down with medical books, papers and a small computer.
In an effort to add some color and personal touches, Carolyn had hung some framed calendar prints and bought a small plant stand. She rarely had any kind of company, and the place looked exactly what it was—rented space.
She avoided looking at Adam as he sat down on the lumpy couch and she took a nearby faded chair. What was he thinking? Why had he intruded on her privacy like this? She was suddenly aware of his masculine presence and the way it filled up the room. He’d left his summer sports jacket in the car and had loosened the matching tie. His short dark hair set off his black eyebrows and arresting gray eyes. His well-built, six-foot frame revealed strong shoulder and arm muscles, and as he casually settled himself into a comfortable position, she resented that he was sending her thoughts into places where she’d placed permanent Keep Out signs.
Her tone was brisker than she’d intended when she said, “All right, I’m listening. Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”
A flicker of expressions like shadows played across his face as he studied her without answering. Then, to her surprise, instead of speaking, he rose abruptly to his feet and walked over to the window. The way he stood there, staring out, she realized that he was experiencing some kind of emotional turmoil of his own. She’d seen patients caught in that same kind of mental maze, and she remained silent, waiting for him to respond.
He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before he turned around and repeated, “What is this all about?”
He walked back to the couch and sat down again. “This is about Marietta.”
“Marietta?” Carolyn echoed.
“My late wife. I lost her. She suffered a cruel and painful death.”
During her internship at the hospital, she’d seen grief of many kinds. Some people wore the loss of a loved one on the outside, like a mourning cloak, while others held their grief inside, deep and private. It was clear to her that this man’s filled the very breath and soul of his being. Until that moment she hadn’t really connected with him, but now she saw him from a different perspective, and she felt drawn to him on a level she didn’t understand.
“I’m so very sorry,” she said, and moved over to the couch beside him.
He searched her face as if to judge the sincerity of her words as he began to talk about himself. “After I graduated from law school, I took a position as judicial attaché at the United States Embassy in Brazil. I coordinated evidence and information on illegal-substance traffic between the U.S. and Brazil.” He paused. “Marietta worked as a translator at the embassy. We’d only been married a few months when she suffered an infection and died from liver failure after a doctor unknowingly gave her an unapproved drug that had found its way into the country through the black market.” Carolyn saw the hard set of his jaw and the way his gray eyes glittered like honed steel. “That pharmaceutical drug came from Horizon.”
Her stomach took a sickening plunge. “How can you be sure?”
“Drugs are produced in batches,” he explained. “Each bottle has the batch number on it, along with the name of the company that manufactured it. The bottle of bad pills that killed Marietta came from Horizon Pharmaceuticals, but when the FDA tried to verify it, the company records showed that a batch with that number had never been produced by the company.”
“Then the drug your wife took was a counterfeit,” Carolyn said, frowning.
“That’s what the authorities believed. I came back to the U.S. a few months ago and found the investigation at a standstill. It’s true that illegal organizations that produce counterfeit drugs do their best to duplicate the appearance of the drug by using bottles of the same size, shape and the same kind of labeling.”
“So Horizon is telling the truth?”
“I don’t think so, and this is why. It’s almost impossible to produce an exact match in every detail to an authentic bottle of pills. The size of the lettering may be wrong, the color of the label slightly off, the plastic bottle lighter or heavier, the pills flatter or more rounded. But in this instance, everything in the bottle of pills that killed Marietta is an exact duplicate to one produced by Horizon.”
“How could that be if the company has no record?”
“For the past year products from Horizon have shown up illegally on various foreign black markets, and until now there hasn’t been a way for me to penetrate company operations and conduct an on-the-spot investigation.”
Until now. The way he was looking at her left no doubt in her mind what those words meant. She stiffened. He was here with an agenda of his own, and his next words verified it.
“You can provide me with a legitimate cover for my investigation. If I can get in a position to examine the workings of the company from the inside, I’m confident I can find out how black-market drugs that don’t meet FDA standards are being illegally circulated in other countries.” He reached over and took her hand. “That’s why I need your help. You can provide me with a legitimate cover for my investigation.”
“How can I do that?” she protested. “I’m totally inexperienced, and it will take time for me to make any changes. You would stick out like a sore thumb if I tried right off to put you in any kind of position at Horizon.”
“I know. That’s why we’d have to arrange something different. I’ll need a cover that will give me intimate access to the workings of the company.”
The steadiness of his gaze told Carolyn that he had already decided what that cover should be. She felt a strange quiver in her stomach, like someone about to take a plunge off a cliff with a bungee cord tied around her ankle.
“When you arrive at Horizon for the first time, Carolyn, I need to be there with you—as your husband.”
She
