21
David cleared a chair for his sister to sit on, wondering why she’d come to his office. He knew how busy her days were, but she had a look on her face like she had something on her mind. She’d come for a reason.
She sat down and gazed around the room, a contented look on her face. “Your office always feels cozy.”
“Messy. Cluttered.”
“True. A little too hot in the summer for my liking, a little too cold in the winter.” She smiled. “But always nice to see my brother seated behind the desk.”
“So you’re here as a sister? Not a doctor.”
“Both.” She took a deep breath. “David, something important has come up, and it involves you, and some of your church members—who have already died—and it involves me. Sort of. But I’m hoping to extricate myself from it and hand it over to you.”
Thoroughly confused, he said, “I was following along until you mentioned church members who had died.”
“Right.”
She set three musty old files on his desk. “You’ve met Wren Baker, one of my residents, haven’t you?”
“I’ve crossed paths with her once or twice.” Never very pleasant experiences for him.
Dok paused and tipped her head. “Does she remind you of me when I was her age?” Then she waved that away. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Anyway, Wren found these old patient files when she and Charlie were emptying out the basement to remodel. They’re from the Max Finegold era.” She lifted a finger in the air. “To be perfectly accurate, Wren didn’t just stumble upon these files. She came to Stoney Ridge specifically to look for evidence about her grandmother from the 1970s. A woman named Mary Baker.”
David’s eyebrows knit together. He was already confused, but he didn’t interrupt.
“Mary Baker was part of a clinical trial for a drug to help postpartum depression. Two other Amish patients were in that same clinical trial. But in all three files, there’s no consent form. It appears that these three women weren’t aware of the risks of a clinical trial. There should have been signed documentation from every patient. Finegold’s mistake, but a catastrophic one for the drug company. They hadn’t ensured that every trial participant was fully informed and had given proper consent. And there were serious risks. The drug never made it past the trial phase before Pharmogen took it off the market.”
David had an uncomfortable feeling that his sister was about to dump this all into his lap.
“Apparently, there’s a civil lawsuit brewing against Pharmogen. Wren Baker has spoken to the attorney who is leading the charge, and now she wants to speak to the descendants of the two Amish families who were involved. Oh, I forgot to mention that Wren’s grandmother, Mary Baker, left the Amish long ago. But the other two women remained.”
“Do you know their names?”
“One is Fisher and the other is Zook.”
David cringed. “Half our church is named Fisher or Zook.”
“Right.” Dok knew that. “You don’t even need to say a word about how you feel about lawsuits, David. How everyone in the church feels about them. But on the other hand, these women were in a vulnerable frame of mind, and they were taken advantage of. Seems like that should be addressed. Maybe it would be good for these families to just listen to Wren.”
David gazed at her. “Why would it be good for them to listen to her?”
Dok sighed. “Because ... there are Amish who struggle with depression, for different reasons, and they’re forced to hide it. When it comes to postpartum depression, there’s such an assumption that a new mother should feel blessed and happy to have a child. But when she doesn’t, she can’t find the help she needs.”
David felt his stomach clench. It had completely slipped his mind to heed Birdy’s warning to talk to Jacob Zook about providing help for Clara.
“So, what do you think? Would you be willing to gather those families sometime this week so Wren could explain what she’s discovered? You’re welcome to use my new garden-level waiting room.”
Despite the seriousness of the topic, David laughed. “Garden level? Ruth, there’s no garden down there. It’s a basement.”
“Maybe not,” she said with a smug smile, “but it has a nice ring to it.”
He dropped his chin, asking the Lord for guidance. Trusting it would come. Slowly, he lifted his head. “Let me host the meeting at the store. That’ll help you stay out of this. In fact, don’t even come to it. I’ll oversee it. I’ll talk to the families and plan for an early morning meeting before the store opens.”
“I’d prefer it to be sooner rather than later. Wren can be...”
“Determined. Relentless. Tenacious. And yes, she does remind me of you at her age.”
Dok scowled at him. “I told you not to answer that question.”With a huff, she gathered her musty old files and left his office.
