I tried to compose my thoughts. “I mean…I didn’t know the clinic was going to have another weigh-in while we were away.”
He didn’t answer me. Instead, he just clicked the mouse and moved onto the next slide. And then he began clicking through the slides faster and faster, one by one, not even really looking at them as they flew by into one big blur.
The sick feeling in my stomach folded itself up into a little box, disappeared for one moment, and then immediately bloomed into fear.
“Carter – “ I started.
“Lindsay, don’t worry,” he said. “They did another weigh-in because they wanted to make sure that our data was as up-to-date as possible. Dr. Klaxton wanted to make sure we had enough weigh-ins to be able to show that the drug was still working, even after weeks had passed.”
“Okay.” But of course it didn’t make sense. The weigh-ins were once a week. It was set up that way for a reason. It was controlled. It had to be, otherwise all our data could be called into question.
Not to mention that even if Carter were telling the truth, that they’d done an extra weigh-in to have the most up-to-date results, it would be impossible for their to be an eight percent increase in weight loss from just that one new data point.
Which could only mean one thing.
Dr. Klaxton was lying about the data.
And Carter was in on it.
***
When we arrived at the grand ballroom about an hour later, I was this close to throwing up. There were fluted glasses of orange juice sitting at each carefully set place setting, and I reached down and grabbed one off a random table and took a sip. I was hoping it would help to settle my stomach, but it was full of pulp and burned my throat going down.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be drinking those,” Carter said.
“Yeah, no shit.” I wanted to add, people do a lot of things they shouldn’t be doing, but I stopped myself.
“There you are!” a voice behind us barked. Dr. Klaxton. He shook his head and threw his hands up in the air as if we were an hour late instead of five minutes early.
“Dr. Klaxton,” Carter said. “We just got here.”
“It’s about time.” Dr. Klaxton held his hand out to Carter. His fingers were pale, and tuft of dark hair peeked out from the sleeve of his white shirt. I’d never noticed how hairy Dr. Klaxton’s wrists were. It was ominous somehow, and I took another sip of my orange juice just to have something to do.
“The powerpoint’s all set,” Carter said happily, handing over the jump drive we’d used to save the newest version.
“Hopefully it’s not a complete disaster.” Dr. Klaxton turned and walked out of the ballroom before we had a chance to say anything.
“Don’t you ever get annoyed about that?” I asked. “The way he treats you?”
Carter shrugged. “He’s a doctor.”
“So?”
“So they have a certain attitude.”
I shook my head. “I’m never going to act that way when I’m a doctor.”
Carter gave me a wry smile. “We’ll see.”
“You are? You’re seriously going to act that way?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think I’m going to be a dick. But Dr. Klaxton is a very important man. You think he got there by being nice?”
“So what you’re saying is that you have to be an unethical asshole to achieve anything?” I shook my head again. “That’s ridiculous.”
Carter frowned. “Who said anything about being unethical?”
I rolled my eyes. “Carter, come on,” I said. “I’m not an idiot.”
The skin between his eyes furrowed into a wrinkle. “What are you talking about?”
He was looking right at me and I willed myself not to look away. I wasn’t going to say it out loud. To accuse someone of falsifying data, especially someone as well-known and powerful as Dr. Klaxton, was serious. Especially when you didn’t have any real proof.
“Lindsay, are you okay?” Carter asked. “What are you talking about?”
It was weird – he would have to be an idiot to not know what Dr. Klaxton was doing. But something about his tone made me think that maybe I had it all wrong.
Suddenly, I was confused. I wanted to ask him. This was Carter. He wasn’t bad. He was nice and smart and sweet and he wouldn’t knowingly be a part of something as horrible as changing the data set on a drug. He wouldn’t risk his career for something like that.
Just ask him. He’ll tell you it’s all a mistake, he’ll give you an explanation.
But before I could say anything, the doors to the ballroom swung open and people began trickling into the ballroom.
The kickoff meeting had begun.
***