6
Jack had removed the wig, the mustache, the nostril dilators, and the cotton pledgets from inside his cheeks. He hadn't been sure how well Dawn would remember him from their one meeting in Work, but decided not to take any chances.
What a stroke of luck that Bolton had left Dawn home alone on the first day of surveillance. He'd expected—and been mentally prepared for—a wait of up to a week.
He wondered what had drawn Bolton out tonight. Didn't matter—it had given Jack a chance to put the letter and test results in Dawn's hands. Whatever happened next would be a matter of luck and circumstance. Dawn's youth and naivete would work in Jack's favor.
Ideally, she would swallow the whole story—why not? It was all true—and come running out of the house.
More than likely she'd be in complete denial at first; but after a while she'd start to recognize a few parallels between her experience and the letter.
Even if she was so enthralled with Bolton that she stayed in denial and showed the letter to lover boy, it would cause a major disruption in Bolton's life, maybe even enrage him enough or panic him enough to do something stupid enough to throw a big-enough monkey wrench into the Creighton clinical trial to shut it down.
One thing Jack knew he wouldn't do was hurt Dawn—because what hurt Dawn would hurt the baby.
But no matter what she did with it, that letter was going to rock Jeremy Bolton's world.