Summer Session by Merry Jones Page A

day. If you’re tired, it can wait—’
    ‘I’m fine. Tell me.’
    He exhaled. ‘It’s a new drug, still experimental, but in final trials. About to be approved by the FDA. It has amazing properties; it stimulates parts of the frontal lobe, improves learning, enhances mental acuity and short-term memory. Its potential applications are boundless—’
    ‘So why didn’t you tell me this earlier?’
    ‘How could I? I had to identify it.’
    ‘Really?’ Harper frowned. ‘Because I saw Detective Rivers earlier. She knew what the pills were right away—’
    ‘What?’
    ‘She said that the same pills were found with other recent fatalities—’
    ‘Wait.’ She pictured Ron leaning back, covering his eyes. ‘You discussed the pills with the police?’
    Harper let out a breath. ‘I didn’t plan to discuss them, Ron. But she insisted, and . . . Look, I don’t want to go into it. Like you said, it’s been a rough day.’
    ‘But, after our conversation earlier, I don’t understand why you’d draw police attention—’
    ‘Because after you and I had coffee, I got mugged—’
    ‘Wait – what? Are you OK?’
    ‘I’m fine—’
    ‘Harper, my God. Why didn’t you call me?’
    Call him? Why would she have called him?
    ‘I’m fine, really. But afterwards, I met with Detective Rivers—’
    ‘No, don’t go on. This is crazy. Tell me in person. Have you had dinner?’
    Dinner?
    ‘Look, I’ve got another hour or so here, then I’m going to grab a bite. How about joining me?’
    Joining him? Harper looked up the empty steps. Then down the empty hall.
    ‘I can’t.’ She couldn’t.
    ‘Tomorrow, then. We need to talk.’
    ‘I don’t know. I have a lot to do—’
    ‘You’ve got to eat, Harper. And you come to the Clinic every evening, don’t you? Why don’t we meet tomorrow after visiting hours. Say, around eight thirty. We’ll eat; you’ll tell me what happened to you today, and I’ll fill you in about the theft.’
    Theft? ‘What theft?’
    ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t finish. I’ll tell you tomorrow—’
    ‘Tell me now.’
    ‘OK.’ He took a breath. ‘Short version. At the Center, we store all experimental drugs in coded bins. This spring, there was a robbery. A bin was emptied out. And guess what? Graham’s pills came from that bin.’
    Really? ‘They were stolen?’
    ‘Hundreds of vials were taken. Gone. During final trials.’
    ‘But they aren’t harmful – I mean, you said they make people smarter.’ She wondered about Graham’s grades. Had his As been drug-induced?
    ‘Harper, all drugs have side effects. And if taken in large doses, those side effects can increase.’
    ‘What side effects?’
    He sighed. ‘How about I explain it all tomorrow at dinner?’
    Fine. But a detail was bothering her, nagging in the corner of her mind. ‘Today, in the coffee shop. When you saw the pills, you recognized them, didn’t you?’
    Ron hedged. ‘I suspected, but I wanted to be sure before I said anything.’
    ‘So what Detective Rivers said about them – is it true? Have those pills been associated with rapes and fires and other violence? Were there other deaths besides Graham’s?’
    His voice tightened. ‘That whole idea is misleading.’
    Misleading?
    ‘In fact, it’s completely erroneous. That drug is perfectly safe.’ Ron was insistent. ‘But this conversation is too important for the phone. Let’s talk tomorrow. The lobby. Eight thirty.’
    OK. Tomorrow. In the lobby. At eight thirty.
    Wait. What was she doing? First having coffee, now dinner?
    Well, why shouldn’t she? They were going to talk about stolen pills, assaults and violent deaths; that was all. And, like the man said, she had to eat.
    Which she ought to do now, and quickly; it was almost time to go see Hank.
    Any hopes Harper had about not telling Hank about the mugging were smashed as soon as he laid eyes on her.
    ‘What. You.’ His eyebrows furrowed, his jaw tightened, and he tried to stand, but his