“Right, he did mention you before. Thanks, Marla.” I had no idea why I was thanking her. “You know, I wanted to ask—did Ryan ever seem strange or distant? Did you notice anything before . . . you know . . .”
She breathed out, long and slow. “When wasn’t he distant? We’d only been living together for about three weeks when I realized it wasn’t going to work. All he wanted to do was hit the bars and talk about money. How much cash he had, how much he was going to make. It was a nightmare, glad I left when I did. Gives me the creeps because he called me a day or two before he died. Probably wanted to hook up. Who knows? Maybe he would’ve offed me along with himself if I would’ve still been living there.”
“Yeah, well, who knows? Uh, did he say anything to you specifically about money, because when we talked, he seemed especially stressed when that came up.”
“Probably, I don’t know. When we first got together, he was always flashing cash, and later we were splitting the bills. Guessing his get-rich-quick scheme didn’t pay off. He said it was a long-term investment, but Ryan wasn’t a long-term guy. In any respect, I can tell you that.”
“Do you know what that was? The investment thing? Because he mentioned it once and never told me anything more.”
Long pause. “Doesn’t sound like you guys were very good friends.”
I laughed nervously. “Like you said, he was always distant.”
“Mm-hmm. Some biotech thing. I don’t know. Then he quit talking about it. Listen, I gotta go. I don’t have anything at his place, and if I do, throw it away—I don’t need it.”
“Okay, sounds good—” But she was already gone.
I looked at the phone, then set it down. Long-term investment. Biotech.
What the hell?
Scenarios and rickety conclusions formed in my head, and I shook it to clear them away. It was important not to assume anything. Just label the layer and move on.
The next number down the list rang four times, then went to voice mail.
“You have reached Collin Dressler with Westex Therapeutics. I can’t come to the phone right now, but—”
I hung up and tapped out the company’s name on my laptop and searched. Lots of hits.
Westex Therapeutics was a biotech start-up company out of Texas specializing in immune system therapy. It was started by one Collin Dressler, CEO, and his business partner, Steven Fairchild, CFO. The first article I read stated Westex had formed early last year with several private investors and a healthy portfolio of both technology innovations and cash depth.
The latest article, dated a month back, was only three paragraphs long, though they could’ve shortened it into one.
Westex was bankrupt and shutting down. Their offices and labs would be shuttered in the coming weeks, and plans of going public with stock options were obviously off the table.
I closed my laptop and looked out the window.
If I were writing this scene, it would go something like this: Ryan Vallance, wannabe big shot—large fish, little pond kind of thing—hears about a neato start-up on the frontlines of medicine. Maybe he got a hot tip somewhere, maybe the “CEO” of the company took him for a ride while they both sat at a bar after meeting by chance—who knows. Ryan then goes to David for a loan, but David says no or won’t give him the full amount. Ryan takes a trip to the big city and asks around, eventually ending up at HerringBone. Speranza. Hope. Loan goes through, and presto—he’s an investor.
Then disaster strikes.
Westex has setbacks in funding. Setbacks in research. Employees start leaving in droves like rats from a sinking ship. The shades lower, and away goes Ryan’s money, which he owes to serious individuals. Perhaps he starts skimming a little off the lending agency to make the payments on time. Maybe one month he doesn’t come up with all the cash and he gets a visit from the Visitor, along with an all-expenses-paid ride down to New York for a weekend of bleeding, cowering, and pleading for his life. Then a phone call to David and the truth comes out. David bargains with HerringBone to get his business partner back in one piece. And then?
“Then they fall short on money again and they’re both dead,” I said to the empty room. Only problem there is the needle pointed back to HerringBone and the Visitor as the culprits. Why wouldn’t they have asked for a ransom by now? Why would the Visitor still be hanging around the Loop?
The other option was the Visitor was telling the truth. They didn’t kill Ryan or David, didn’t have Rachel and the boys, and there was another party involved.