Page 31 of Defending Love

Chapter Thirty

Dani

“ W ill Grace be back by tomorrow?” I asked.

Damien nodded, his dark blue eyes still on Eli.

“Hey. Eli is just doing his job. Talk to me about Preston.”

Damien’s stance relaxed. He pulled the latex gloves from his hands and dropped them in the trash can. “If we’re all going to discuss this, let’s go back out to the living room. It’s a little close in here.”

Damien led the way. When I looked up at Eli, I had the feeling he was still suspicious of my brother.

If anything, what was just said made me feel less suspect.

Damien admitted to touching everything in the safe.

He remembered the photo album, and he never mentioned the letter. That meant he didn’t know about it.

The letter was hidden under the felt at the bottom of the safe. When he and Stephen cleared it out, they probably didn’t look beneath the felt.

Back in the living room, we retook our seats.

Damien inhaled and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “Stephen thinks Ayers is a good fit. He’ll bring a new level of prestige to the executive board, and he has some thoughts on future endeavors. Stephen also thinks we should encourage Mom to retire from the board.”

What?

I sat taller. “And replace her with who?”

“You.”

“Me.” I blinked. “I…” I didn’t know what to say.

Damien sat taller. “Think about it, Dani. You should have been on the board years ago. With Dad gone, Mom doesn’t want or need the pressure of Sinclair Pharmaceuticals. You on the other hand are part of the everyday workings. You know more than anyone on the board about how Sinclair operates.”

My gaze went to Eli and back to my brother. “I know a hell of a lot more than Preston Ayers.”

Damien scoffed. “You do.”

“If Preston is such a good fit, why didn’t his name come up when Gloria Wilmott stepped down?” I asked.

“Dad and Preston didn’t see eye to eye on a litany of subjects.”

I furrowed my brow. “Like what?”

Damien’s eyes went to Eli and back to me.

“Everyone from Guardian signs an NDA,” I said. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of Eli.”

“It’s old hat,” Damien said. “It doesn’t matter now.

What matters is that we walk into the meeting tomorrow ready to put this dark chapter behind us and move forward.

Our stockholders need to see that we’re progressing.

What I’m about to say makes me sound like an ass, but I’m going to say it.

If we go in there and propose adding you to Dad’s seat, despite your overqualifications, there are people who will scream nepotism. ”

He did sound like an ass, but he was right.

“Preston Ayers in Dad’s seat will show our willingness to grow. You in Mom’s seat will then be better accepted.”

“Have you talked to the other members of the board,” I asked.

“Art Hatfield and Lynwood Sharp are on board.”

“Grace, Rachel, and Phillip McGee?”

Damien responded, “Grace is getting up to speed. Rachel is a probably, and Phillip has only been on the board since Gloria retired. I don’t think he’ll put up too much resistance.”

“Have you discussed this with Darius?”

Damien stood. “Fuck no. He owns shares of Sinclair stock. That’s where his involvement ends.”

“You know he’d like to be on the board.”

“Not fucking going to happen.” He turned toward the tall windows.

I remembered something Damien said before dropping the bomb of putting me on the board. “What ideas does Ayers have for the future of Sinclair?”

Damien turned around. “The pharma coalition Ella heads has helped. The prescription rate of Propanolol has increased significantly. Ayers believes it could do better. He wants to create a PR campaign aimed at veterans. I see the potential.”

“I thought your plan was to spend more money on R&D, fewer payouts to stockholders, and less money on advertising.”

“It was. The bottom line could use some help.”

“So you’re going to spend money to make it?”

He nodded. “That’s the way it works.”

I pressed my lips together. “Ayers wants Sinclair to do a PR campaign aimed at veterans. I can see that as a way to aid his campaign for governor.”

Damien exhaled. “It could be mutually beneficial.”

“Problems? You never said there were problems.”

“Not problems, Dani. Forks in the road. And now with Dad gone, I’m willing to try something new.”

I stood, meeting my brother. “Why did you cash out your crypto?”

His gaze narrowed. “The fuck?”

“Why?”

“Stephen advised that the crypto market is too unstable and uncertain. I’d made some decent profits and with the way the economy is going, I decided to put that money into a more secure venture.”

“You reinvested it?”

“I did.”

“In what?”

“Sinclair Pharmaceuticals.”

I blinked. “You put five million of your own money in Sinclair Pharmaceuticals?”

Damien looked at Eli and back to me. “I’m not sure how you know that, but yes.”

Eli stood. “Can you produce the receipts?”

My brother squared his shoulders. “I can. I don’t need to. What the actual fuck?”

I stepped between the two men. “Those fake FBI agents, Damien. They were hired by someone. We hypothesize that they were hired by the same person who paid for Dad’s murder.”

“Do you have proof that someone paid for his murder?”

“No,” I admitted.

“When you get it, take it to the fucking police. Let them do their job.” He turned on Eli. “Your job was to keep my sister safe and defend her from danger, not fill her head with unfounded ideas.” His blue eyes were back on me. “Do you think I could or would have anything to do with Dad’s murder?”

Tears prickled the back of my eyes. “I don’t want to.”

“I loved Dad. I fucking respected him. It’s one of the reasons I wouldn’t bring up Preston Ayers to him. I knew he’d freak out.”

“Why would he freak out?”

Damien took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

My brother ran his hand over his dark-blond hair. “I didn’t ask questions. Dad said it was better that way.”

“Shit, Damien. What are you talking about? This could be why Dad is dead.”

“No,” he said adamantly. “What I’m referring to happened too long ago.

Johnathon and Ella are working on the connection to our products.

There’s a pending wrongful death case in Georgia.

The family claims their 82-year-old father died from an allergic reaction to Sinclair Pharmaceuticals’ saline during surgery. ”

“Saline allergies are rare.”

Damien nodded. “I called the Sumter County Sheriff’s Department yesterday with the information. They’re going to look into it.”

“If the patient had an allergy, it was up to them to disclose it. The anesthesiologist would be responsible, not Sinclair.”

“I know that,” Damien said. “Stephen said the same thing. People want to turn tragedy into a payday.”

“What didn’t you ask questions about?” Eli asked, stepping into the conversation.

My brother’s shoulders slouched. “Fine. I was the one who discovered the research for Propanolol. The dean of the university wanted to raise money to fund the ongoing research.”

“Eric Olsen?” I asked.

“No, his name was Oaks. Olsen was the dean of the research department. There were positive early results. I offered to buy their research, and my offer was turned down. I even tried to hire their scientists. When that didn’t work, I told Dad about it.

It was when Darius was busy shitting all over Sinclair.

Dad was intrigued with the uniqueness of the formula.

Things got complicated after the university shut down the research. ”

“Eric Olsen was killed, shot in broad daylight like Dad,” I said.

Damien nodded. “The university wasn’t giving up their results or even the formulas. The two main scientists disappeared. That’s when I found David Carpenter. He knew about the research because he was Eric Olsen’s son-in-law and had access to his personal notes.”

My voice quivered with trepidation. “Did Dad do something illegal to encourage David to work for Sinclair?”

“Dani, this was over five years ago, hell, eight at this point. I don’t know exactly what Dad did, but David recreated the formula. Our research was fast-tracked, and now Sinclair is a world competitor in the pharmaceutical world.”

The pieces were falling into place. “Preston Ayers was the dean of research in ’18. He’s who made a deal with Dad, and you say Dad didn’t like him. Why are we even considering adding him to the board?”

“Dad didn’t include me in on the agreement for the research. I don’t know what Dad’s beef was with him.”

“Stephen would know,” I said. “Wouldn’t he?”

“I don’t think we should rehash any of this. If anything came out, it could reflect poorly on Sinclair.”

I raised my voice. “It could find Dad’s killer.”

“Or,” Eli said, “it could get the two of you killed.” He looked at Damien. “Why haven’t you hired yourself a bodyguard?”

Damien stood taller. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“But you hired one for Dani, your parents, and your wife.”

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to any of them.”

“You’re not worried about yourself?” Eli asked.

“I wasn’t,” Damien replied with a tilt of his head. “Now you have me concerned.”