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heart attack.”
    “Right. You know what caused the heart attack?”
    “Well, no.”
    Lyle glanced at the door to make sure they were still alone. He glanced around the room to make sure no one could possibly be listening. He took a step closer so that his shoes were almost touching those of Wally, who by now was expecting to hear that old Chester had been murdered in some clever fashion.
    In a near whisper, Lyle asked, “Ever hear of a drug called Krayoxx?”
    T here was a McDonald’s in the shopping center next to Van Easel’s. Wally bought two cups of coffee, and they huddled in a booth, as far away from the counter as possible. Lyle had a stack of papers—articles pulled from the Internet—and it was obvious he needed someone to talk to. Since his father’s death forty-eight hours earlier, he had become obsessed with Krayoxx.
    The drug had been on the market for six years, and its sales had grown rapidly. In most cases, it lowered the cholesterol of obese people. Chester’s weight had slowly climbed toward three hundred pounds, and this had caused other increases—blood pressure and cholesterol, to name the most obvious. Lyle had hounded his father about his weight, but Chester couldn’t stay away from the midnight ice cream. His way of handling the stress of the ugly divorce was to sit in the dark and knock out one pint after another of Ben & Jerry’s. Once the weight was on, he couldn’t get it off. His doctor prescribed Krayoxx a year earlier, and his cholesterol dropped dramatically. At the same time, hebegan complaining of an irregular heart rate and shortness of breath. He reported these to his doctor, who assured him there was nothing wrong. The dramatic dip in his cholesterol far outweighed any of these minor side effects.
    Krayoxx was made by Varrick Labs, a New Jersey firm currently number three on Big Pharma’s list of the world’s ten largest drug companies, annual sales of some $25 billion, and a long, ugly history of bruising battles with federal regulators and tort lawyers.
    “Varrick makes six billion a year off Krayoxx,” Lyle was saying as he sifted through research. “With an annual increase of 10 percent.”
    Wally ignored his coffee as he scanned a report. He listened silently, though the wheels were turning so fast he was almost dizzy.
    “And here’s the best part,” Lyle said, picking up another sheet of paper. “Ever hear of a law firm called Zell & Potter?”
    Wally had never heard of Krayoxx, though at 240 pounds and with a slightly elevated cholesterol he was mildly surprised his doctor had not mentioned the drug. Nor had he heard of Zell & Potter, but, sensing they were major players in something important, he wasn’t about to admit his ignorance. “I think so,” he said, frowning, searching.
    “Big plaintiffs’ firm in Fort Lauderdale.”
    “Yep.”
    “They filed suit in Florida last week against Varrick, a huge lawsuit for wrongful deaths caused by Krayoxx. Here’s the story in the
Miami Herald
.”
    Wally scanned the story as his heart rate doubled.
    “I’m sure you heard about this lawsuit,” Lyle said.
    Wally was constantly amazed at the naïveté of the average guy. Over two million lawsuits are filed in the United States each year, and poor Lyle here was thinking that Wally had noticed one filed in south Florida. “Yep, I’ve been watching this one,” Wally said.
    “Does your firm handle cases like this?” Lyle asked, so innocently.
    “It’s our specialty,” Wally said. “We cut our teeth on injury and death cases. I’d love to go after Varrick Labs.”
    “You would? Have you ever sued them before?”
    “No, but we’ve gone after most of the major drug companies.”
    “This is great. Then you’re willing to take my dad’s case?”
    Damn right I’ll take it, Wally thought, but through years of experience he knew not to rush in. Or at least not to seem overly optimistic. “Let’s just say the case has real potential. I’ll need to confer