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“So you’ve been speaking with Dr. Adler?”
“Well, that’s just the thing,” Rachel said. “We haven’t exactly been speaking with her because she’s been killed. Her and another doctor we think you may be linked to…a Dr. Emma Willis.”
“Adler has been killed?” he asked. His delivery was monotone, almost as if he honestly didn’t care. It felt like he was going through the motion, simple showing them what he thought they expected.
“She has,” Rachel said. “And if you’d let us come inside, we’d like to just ask you some basic questions about why your name was listed in her records…in a section of records there weren’t any other names listed. And also why she would refer to you and your son in th—”
“My son is dead,” Williams said.
“We know,” Rachel said.
“Well, there you go. That’s all you need to know.”
“May I be blunt?” Sullivan said.
Williams said nothing. He just stood in the doorway, still looking back and forth between them as if he expected one of them to blindside him with a punch.
“We are fully aware of the specialties Willis and Adler were involved in,” Sullivan said. “We have reams of papers on file that give a glimpse into their research. And right now, we have your name—as well as your son’s—in their reports and research. We even have a note referring to your case. Now…given that your son has indeed regrettably passed away and that your name is in the—”
Rachels saw what was going to happen a split second before it actually did. She saw something give way in Gary Williams’ eyes; his face went blank and rigid at the same time. He let out an odd, muted growl and delivered a right-handed punch. He was slow, which not only meant Sullivan was able to sidestep it without much trouble, but that Rachel was able to catch his right arm, pull him out of the doorway, and deftly press him against the side of the house.
Sullivan was there right away to lend an assist. And as Sullivan cuffed him, William began to bellow: “How dare you mention my son! You don’t know what we went through…the time spent…those endless, sleepless nights! How dare you!”
“You mentioned your son, Mr. Williams,” Rachel said. “And now that you’ve attempted to attack Detective Sullivan, you’ve made it much easier for us to legally search your house.”
“For what?”
Sullivan gave Williams a gentle push through the still-opened door. "Two doctors are dead, and we have no suspects. At least one of them mentioned you in their reports. We came to only ask you questions about your involvement with them, but you got violent, which makes things look a little strange."
“So, you…you think I killed them?”
“I said no such thing.”
As Sullivan interacted with Williams, Rachel took a look around the cabin. It was set up in an open floor plan, the only exception being the small office area to the right, which was blocked off by a half-wall. It was incredibly spacious, with a wide staircase leading to the second floor.
“Are you ready to answer our questions now?” Sullivan asked.
“There are no questions to ask,” Williams spat. “Those doctors were so sure they could fix Blake…could help him get his life back. And their damnable science killed him. That’s the only answer worth having as far as I’m concerned.”
Rachel listened in to the conversation as Sullivan allowed Williams to sit down, still handcuffed, in a plush recliner against the far wall. It faced a small fireplace and a mounted TV. Her attention was on the small office space in the back corner. It was quite tidy, with very little clutter in the wide, oak desk.
“What do you do for a living, Mr. Williams?” she asked as she stepped into the space.
"Really? That's what you want to know. That’s one of your questions?”
Rachel wasn’t taking the bait, avoiding a much larger argument. She exchanged a quick look with Sullivan, and he nodded at her to go ahead and have a look around while he stayed by Williams’s side. As she began to search through the office area, she continued to listen into the conversation; only, it wasn’t much of a conversation. Sullivan would ask questions while Williams remained focused on the topic of how those doctors had killed his son.
She found that Williams had apparently been working or, at the very least, checking his email when they’d come to visit. She looked at his laptop screen and put together that he was a freelance editor of some kind—from foreign websites being translated into English. However, there was also an email buried in his inbox from a sender labeled HHS Rep. Knowing that HHS referred to as the Health and Human Services, she clicked on the email. She knew that it was technically now allowed, seeing as how they didn't have a warrant, but she also knew that the fact he'd taken a swing at Sullivan would allow them to get away with a few infringements.
The email was a reply to something Williams had already sent. It was a brief and to the point, stating simply: Your concern has been noted and passed along to the proper channels. She scrolled down to read the original message sent by Williams. It had been sent three weeks ago and was a very long complaint about how the use of stem cells in experimental medicine was more dangerous than the public knew and that there should be more available information about the practice made easily accessible. He'd also attached several documents, which all appeared to be receipts and records from multiple hospital stays.
As she closed out of it, she continued to listen to Sullivan try to get answers out of Williams, but he was being stubborn. There wasn't much else around the office that would give any insight into what else Williams might be into. She did, however, see a small pad of paper placed behind the laptop. She looked it over and, at first, saw nothing more than a few work-related notes. Apparently, he'd been working on a Taiwanese site recently. However, a few pages closer to the back of the pad, she saw a list…a list of names.
Jane Adler was written at the top. There were four other names, the last of which was Emma Willis. She had never seen or heard of the other two and, in that moment, wasn’t too concerned about it—though she knew they’d have to circle back around to it soon enough.
“Mr. Williams, do you want to tell me about this list?” Rachel asked, bringing the notepad with her to the armchair. She handed it to Sullivan to let him have a look while she leveled her gaze at Williams.
“The doctors?” he asked. “Those are doctors that are supposed to be so-called pioneers in the field of anti-aging and other uses for stem cells.”
