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“What’s the hiccup?”
“Largely funding. For an exemption trial, the product company must be willing to provide the drug, and GX-42 doesn’t come cheaply. For one patient, it wouldn’t be cost effective.”
Rye propped his elbow on the back of the chair and rubbed his thumb across his lips. “Does Violet live here in Atlanta?”
“Outside Knoxville. Working middle class family, and it takes the incomes of both parents to support it. Her mother is on leave from her job. Violet has two older brothers. Coming here has imposed a tremendous hardship on all of them. Financially, emotionally. Every way. But all were willing to make sacrifices in order to send Violet here.”
“To be treated by you.”
She gave a modest shrug. “The research I’ve done has been documented in medical journals. Violet’s oncologist in Tennessee recommended me.”
“You’re famous?”
She smiled at that. “My name is familiar to a few who specialize in hematologic cancers.”
“Lambert?”
“Much better known.”
“He sees to it.”
“Nate has an inflated ego, yes.”
“Who is Hunt?”
She gave a significant pause, then said, “Senator Richard Hunt of Georgia.”
Rye stared at her, almost expecting a punch line, but Brynn was as somber as a death knell. Losing taste for the cold drink, he turned in his chair and set the can on the dresser. Coming back to Brynn, he said, “Well, shit.”
“You know of him?”
“I’ve heard of Senator Hunt a lot, but till now I couldn’t have told you what state he’s from.”
“He’s serving his second term in office. You’ve heard of him because he places himself in the middle of things and seems to thrive on keeping the congressional waters churned. He can be a charmer, an arm-twister, or a gladiator, depending on the issue under debate and the strength of his opposition. He’s handsome and knows it. He plays the media like a maestro.”
“How’d he make his money?”
“Sole heir of his family’s company.” She named it, but Rye wasn’t familiar with it. “Manufacturer of portable buildings. Construction site offices. Temporary housing units.”
“Like FEMA uses?”
“Yes.”
Rye cocked an eyebrow.
Brynn said, “He sold out before running for office to avoid a conflict of interest.”
“Oh, of course,” he said with only a trace of conviction. If Richard Hunt would pay for a pharmaceutical not yet available to anyone else, he’d cheat at other things, too. “Family?”
“Happily married to second wife, Delores. No children from either marriage.”
“How old is he?”
Again, she paused before saying quietly, “Sixty-eight.”
They exchanged a meaningful look.
Brynn added, “He’s a very young sixty-eight. Except for the cancer, he’s physically fit. Robust. His wife is considerably younger.”
