The Man by Her Door: A chilling serial killer thriller set in Russia (Zoya Volkova Russian Noir Thrillers Book 3) by Nadya Frank

Author:Nadya Frank [Frank, Nadya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-02-27T16:00:00+00:00

30

Now

Zoya

A man guarding the entrance to the UltraPharm Center for Clinical Studies glanced at Zoya’s confirmation email and pointed at the elevator. “Third floor.”

Zoya followed his directions. She’d never been to a private clinic.

Back in school, she had visited their district’s youth polyclinic for cavity fillings. Several doctors were sharing a large room separated by partitions. Zoya’s dentist sprayed lidocaine on her gums and began drilling, stopping only to scold her, a twelve-year-old, for wriggling in her seat when the hot metal entered her molar, setting her jaws on fire.

Lidocaine didn’t help, but it was free—the only kind Zoya’s family could afford.

Now she took in every detail of this building. What did Phyra have to do with the company? Why did she text Alisa about it?

The elevator opened onto a room with a reception counter. Zoya filled a bunch of forms, confirming she was healthy, sober, and not pregnant. Turned out she didn’t need to hide her under-eye bags with concealer and stale booze breath with a mint. The nurse barely glanced at her before directing her further down the hall.

Zoya found the door she needed, sat on a bench, and examined two other volunteers in the line.

The first guy was of her age with gray skin and glassy eyes of a junkie. Now and then, his upper lip jumped up, revealing a row of black teeth. He’d been on meth for at least a year.

Next to him sat an older man in the bleached clothes all retired men seemed to wear.

None of them seemed to fit the requirements Zoya had received in her mailbox after applying for a study. The volunteers were supposed to be young, healthy, well-rested.

She leaned toward the older man. “Excuse me. When do we get paid?”

“First time?” He smiled patronizingly. “After you’re done, stop at the reception. You’re here for the Alzheimer’s, right?”

She nodded. Alzheimer’s medication from a European pharmaceutical company, her confirmation email stated.

“It’s simple,” the man said. “You go in, get the pill, then wait.”

“Wait for what?” Zoya asked.

“Side effects. You’ll see. You youngsters flake off really quick.” He shuffled in his seat.

“Do you see a lot of people my age here?” Zoya asked, preparing the ground for questions about Phyra.

“There are different people.” The retiree threw the junkie a sidelong glance. “I come here every week. Sometimes every day.”

Zoya hiked an eyebrow. “I thought you’re not supposed to participate in more than one trial at once.” That was what the email said.

“You’re not supposed to, but it doesn’t mean you can’t.” The retiree smirked. “I need money. They need to finish the trial faster. Win-win.”

“Isn’t it bad for your health?”

“Starving is bad for my health. A cold apartment is bad for my health, and it gets cold when I can’t pay the bills. These candies? Not so much.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice.

He went on babbling about the tiny pension he was receiving after decades of hard work on a leather factory when a woman appeared from the room and headed toward the reception.

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