Page 8 of A Man of Prestige

“I thought the same thing. Vivienne had Alexis researching to confirm it. It’s true, which makes me think that maybe one of the first victims was actually…” Sebastian trails off as we all think the same thing.

“Tina,” I whisper.

“Yeah, Tina,” Conner agrees.

“Can we talk to her?” I ask.

“I think we have to,” Sebastian says slowly. “Conner, can you get Bryce to track her down for us? I’m not sure where she lives now.”

“Will do,” he replies. “Have Alexis research the other missing women around that time. I want to know if they had attended a party as well.”

“Already on it,” he says.

“Stay safe, shit is about to get real. Also, I’m having Bryce watch our dads. Apparently, they are quite pissed about the missing vial. My dad tore apart his office that night. And your dad, Aiden, was spotted having a heated discussion with our good friend Jared,” Conner says.

“I want to know what role he’s playing in this,” I state.

“We’ll figure it out; we’ll figure it all out,” Sebastian assures.

We disconnect, and I look back at Ella’s message and then hit call.

“I need to know what this all means,” she says when she answers.

“Ella…” I trail off because I don’t want her to know.

“I’m already involved if that’s what you’re thinking. And…I might have information that you need,” she says quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Just…can we meet?”

I groan. “Meet me at the Falls Church metro stop at six,” I say.

“I’ll see you then,” she adds as she hangs up and I stare at my phone. What am I doing? No matter how badly she hurt me, she doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this dangerous situation, yet I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s as if I’m bringing her down with the ship, just so I can spend one more day with her. It’s selfish. I try to tell myself that it’s my curiosity about her alleged information, but I’m a lying piece of shit if I believe myself on that one.

My phone pings with a message from Charles Richards. Chuck. We all get assigned a liaison when we take the vow to join the brotherhood. Chuck is mine. He was also our pledge class mentor. He’s older now, and I swear at times senile.

Chuck: How are you? I hear a promotion is in the works?

I laugh and call him. He’s a much-needed distraction.

“Hello, Aiden,” he answers. His voice is the grandfatherly one I always wanted as a child. I barely remember my own grandparents. My mom’s parents died when I was a kid and my dad and his father didn’t along. His mother died years before I was born. So having Chuck as a mentor has meant a lot to me.

“Hey. I can’t believe I could be running the whole program. I’m the youngest physician to ever get that chance,” I admit.

“You deserve it. Running patient trials is your passion, and it shows,” he replies, his voice gruff and raspy from years of smoking.

“I’m excited about the opportunity. I really hope this latest drug is going to be a game-changer,” I explain because it’s the truth.

“I’m sure it will, my boy. I’m sure it will.”

“We should have drinks soon. I’ll stop by,” I say as I flip through a patient chart.

“Absolutely. I’d love that. It’s so quiet here since Sally passed away,” he says sadly. Chuck’s wife had died a few years earlier, which was particularly sad because he had only just retired. He had a long career in both the military and as a pharmaceutical lobbyist and then finally worked as a distinguished professor at my alma mater. Sally had always said the man couldn’t retire, instead, he’d just switch careers and begin again.

He was the one who encouraged me to join TOD. He’s also the one who tells me the brotherhood is helpful and is doing good. But Chuck is an old-school brother. At his age, I bet he does remember a time when it was all good or at least doing less bad.

“I’ll look at my calendar and find some time. You take care of yourself,” I say.

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