Rock Harbor Series - 03 - Into the Deep (17 page)

“You talk to Terry yet?” she asked when she reached him.

“He’s not back from lunch. Deanna said he was due any time.”

“I want to talk to her anyway. Salome mentioned that fight, and I want to know more.” Bree motioned to Deanna, who waved, then spoke to a coworker before exiting the pharmacy booth to join them.

“I’m so sorry about what happened to Cassie,” Deanna said. She glanced from Bree to Mason as if wondering which one would accuse her first.

“Salome said there was an altercation in front of the pharmacy counter yesterday just as you were about to ask her something. Do you remember what you were going to ask her?”

“Just the standard line about whether she had any questions about the medication,” Deanna said. She bit her lip. “I wish I’d caught this.”

“You had no way of knowing,” Mason said.

She sagged at the sheriff’s words. Relief lit her blue eyes. “I . . . I wondered if I was going to be charged,” she admitted.

“Could we see the written script?”

“I have it right here.” Terry Alexander came up behind them.

He’d been the pharmacist for as long as Bree had lived in Rock Harbor. A genial man in his thirties, he parted his hair just above his ear and swept the wispy strands over the center bald spot. He held out a paper.

Mason scanned it, then handed it back to Terry. “Can you decipher it? It looks like it says theophylline.”

“It does,” Terry said grimly. “But that’s not what the computer says. I don’t understand how this could happen. We carefully check every prescription when it’s loaded into the computer.”

“Tell us how it works,” Bree suggested. “If I dropped a prescription off and said I’d pick it up later, how would it be processed?”

“Either Deanna or I would input it into the computer along with the other prescriptions. We’d double-check to make sure it was put in properly. Then the computer would spit out the prescription and one of us would fill it. We check it against the paper script the first time to make sure it’s right.” Terry held out a computer printout. “This says we put it in right, and it was refilled once as theophylline. But that’s not what the computer says now, and that’s not what was refilled this time.”

“So it’s just checked against the written script the first time it’s filled? If I get a refill, you don’t recheck?”

“That’s right.”

Mason frowned as he read the printout. “So what you’re suggesting is that somehow between when you put this prescription in the computer and filled it once and when it was filled the second time, it somehow changed to another medicine? That makes no sense. A computer glitch of some kind?”

“I’ve never heard of a computer glitch like that,” Terry said. “I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t know how it happened. What’s even crazier
is that the first part of the second refill was right—the partial Salome picked up a couple of weeks ago. It’s just this remainder that was wrong.”

“What about cybercrime?” Mason asked. “Could someone have gotten into the computer and altered the prescription?”

Bree wanted to shake her head. It sounded like something out of a novel or a movie. How would a tiny burg like Rock Harbor attract someone with that kind of computer savvy? This wasn’t New York. “There has to be another explanation,” she said.

Terry shook his head. “I’m telling you, there’s no other way this could have happened. I think Mason is on to something.” He waved the paper at Mason as if to emphasize the point.

“Is there any way we can find out for sure if someone cracked into the computer? And don’t you have some kind of—what’s it called—firewall?”

“Sure, we have a firewall, but a determined cracker can get past most anything.”

“I read about some cybercrime detection company in Detroit,” Mason said. “I think I have their information back at the office. I’ll contact them. In the meantime, can you print out any logs you might have, Terry?”

“Sure, but I’m no computer expert. I probably won’t know where to look to find the ones that might help us.”

The import of what was happening began to sink into Bree’s consciousness. If someone deliberately altered Cassie’s prescription, then it had been a murder attempt.

13

T
he man and woman moved through the dark house. Their flash-lights pushed back the inky blackness only a few feet. Carpet muffled the sound of their footsteps, though there was no one in the house to hear. The dog lay snoring in the front room after being fed drug-laced hamburger.

She knelt by the desk and began to riffle through it while her partner searched the filing cabinet. They had to find it. They worked quietly; only occasional grunts from the man by the filing cabinet and the sound of metal drawers sliding disturbed the almost eerie silence.

She slammed the final drawer shut, frustration making her careless. “It’s not here. We’re going to have to search the whole house.”

“What if the other woman comes in?” he asked.

“She’s been conveniently delayed by our friend.”

They started in Cassie’s bedroom.

The aroma of the tea mingled with the scent from the potted roses lining the patio. It was good to be home, though she’d only made it as far as the living room sofa before deciding to sit outside. Bree had brought her home, then gone out to search for Samson.

Two days in the hospital had seemed like an eternity. Cassie settled onto the chair and propped her feet on the deck railing. She’d just relax awhile and watch the sunset. Salome wouldn’t be home for another hour—she’d gone to her Pilates class—and the silence spoke to Cassie’s heart.

The phone rang, and she grabbed the portable. “Hello.”

“Cassie, I’ve been trying to reach you for days.” Her boss’s voice was impatient.

“Sorry, Marc, I was in the hospital.”

“Whatever for?”

Like her boss really cared. “Just a drug mix-up at the pharmacy. I’m fine.”

“No wonder, since you’re in the boonies. The pharmacy probably still uses things like eye of newt. I tried to tell you to find a more up-to-date location, but you were insistent.”

It was a familiar complaint. Cassie tried not to grit her teeth.

Marc barreled ahead. “Why didn’t you call me the minute Phil died? Is the project in jeopardy?”

“I’m on top of things,” Cassie said evenly. She didn’t need her hand held, but she doubted Marc would ever realize that.

“How on top of things? Is his death causing a delay?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Marc huffed on the other end of the line. “You’re skirting the issue, Cassie. Tell me in one-syllable words. Are we going to make the deadline?”

Cassie bit her lip. “I don’t know yet,” she enunciated.

There was silence on the other end of the line for several seconds, then Marc sighed. “How much of a delay?”

“I’m hoping not more than six months.”

“Six months!”

Cassie held the phone away from her ear. “Yancy is trying to fill in the holes as best he can.”

“What about your father?”

“He’s in a home now. I don’t think he’ll be any help.”

“Is there anything you can give him to temporarily stimulate his memory?” Her boss’s voice was calculating.

If there was, she would have done it long ago, but Cassie was too disgusted to say anything.

“Cassie, are you there?”

“There’s nothing we can do to help Dad. I’ve got the best minds working on it. It will be okay.”

“If it’s not, we’re all in trouble. The company will go down the tubes, and you’ll all be out of a job. Tell your researchers to get off their duffs and
get me that drug!”

The phone crashed in Cassie’s ear, and she winced. She punched the off button and laid the phone on the table. She’d hoped to avoid this conversation until she had things more in order at the lab. Sighing, she got up to get her phone book in the office. She’d call Yancy at home and see how things had gone the past two days.

She went down the hall to her office and pushed open the door. Blinking in dismay, she glanced at the papers strewn on the floor. Someone had ransacked her office. She grabbed the phone to call Mason. He promised to come right over.

Her nerves were a jangled mess. She kept looking out the window into the now-dark backyard. What if the intruder was still out there? She couldn’t understand what anyone would want here. All her records were at the lab. But what else could they want?

Bree paused and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. This fruitless search had brought back too many memories of what it had been like to look for Davy all those months. She wouldn’t be discouraged if she knew the outcome would be the same, but she had a sinking feeling two miracles were unlikely.

Zorro scampered through the grass with Charley, both dogs not as focused as usual without Samson to follow. She didn’t know how she could keep going back to Anu’s to face Davy’s hopeful face that crumpled into tears when she arrived without his dog. She felt like she’d knocked on every door in a twenty-mile radius, but no one had offered a shred of evidence. And no one seemed to know about a dogfighting ring.

If that’s even who had taken Samson. She couldn’t bear to think of
him being mistreated. Setting her jaw, she whistled for the dogs and got back to the search.

“I thought that sounded like your whistle.” Kade pushed through some brush into the clearing where she stood. “You look beat.”

“I am. What are you doing out here?”

“Just patrolling and watching for signs of Samson while I do it.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m beginning to think we’re not going to find him, Kade. What will I do if he’s gone forever?”

He stepped close, and she threw herself in his arms. She’d tried to be strong for Davy, but she was tired, so tired. He smoothed her hair and held her while she sobbed out her fear and frustration. Finally spent, she pressed her cheek against his damp shirt and breathed in his familiar scent.

“Don’t give up hope yet.”

“I’m trying not to.” She sniffed and pulled away to scrub at her cheeks.

“You’re strong, Bree. You can get through this.”

She knew her anger was out of proportion, even as the bitter words burst from her lips. “I’m tired of being strong. I want to let someone else carry the burden for a while.” She pulled away and turned and ran after the dogs.

He called after her, but she didn’t pause. Only God could carry this burden, and she knew just where to find him.

Kade started after Bree, then an inner sense told him to leave her alone. He turned and went back to Moses. There was nothing he could do for her except to find her dog, and though he didn’t want to admit it to Bree, he was beginning to think she was right about Samson never being found.

His cell phone rang, and Lauri told him her car was dead. Glancing at his watch, he told her he’d take care of it while she went on to work. He dropped his horse at the ranger station stable and drove his truck
to town. Ranger Matthews to the rescue. Some days he felt like that’s all he did.

He parked his truck outside the Ace Hardware Store. Lauri’s battered red Plymouth sat across the street. He popped the hood and jiggled the spark plug wires. He got out his key and tried to start it. Nothing. When Lauri said it was dead, she wasn’t exaggerating. Not a sound came from the engine.

He went back to peer under the hood, but he’d probably have to call a mechanic. Minor problems he could fix, but this seemed major. He pulled out a few spark plugs and wiped them off, then reseated them. The engine still wouldn’t fire. Sighing, he went to Nicholls’s to wash his hands and call a tow truck.

Donovan looked up when the bell on her door jingled. “Hey, guy. I assume you’re looking for your sister? She went to work.”

“I know. She called from there and said her car was dead. It is. I just need to wash up and borrow your phone book.”

“Sure. The rest room is through here.” Donovan led him through a break room and flipped on the light. “I’ll get the phone book.”

Kade washed his hands. Donovan tossed him the phone book when Kade joined him at the counter. He thanked him and called to have the car towed to the mechanic.

“Coffee?” Donovan asked when he hung up the phone.

“Sure.” He followed him to the back room past the display of plumbing supplies.

“You take it black, don’t you?”

“Yep.” Kade accepted a Little Mermaid mug. “Nice,” he said, holding up the cup.

Donovan grinned. “Emily’s castoffs. Hey, at least it holds coffee.” Donovan studied his face. “You look as low as Naomi when she burned last night’s cake.”

Kade tried to smile, then gave up the struggle. “It’s Bree. She’s driving me crazy. One minute she’s hanging on to my shirt crying her eyes out and the next she’s pushing me away.”

Donovan took a swig of coffee. “Time to be a man, my friend. Take a stand and tell her how you feel.”

“She knows how I feel.” He hunched his shoulders and sipped his coffee.

“You’re sure? Have you ever told her what you want and that you love her?”

“Not in so many words. I wanted to give her space to grieve for Rob and for Davy to adjust.”

“Rob has been gone nearly two years. You want her to grieve her life away with a misplaced sense of guilt?” Donovan pulled a chair out with his booted foot and sat down. “Have a seat. This may take a while.”

Kade grinned. “You have some advice from the heights of your married wisdom?”

“Naomi has taught me a lot. Sometimes a woman needs a man who takes a strong stand, someone who looks her in the eye and helps her make difficult decisions. A woman wants a leader.”

“I’ve always thought of myself as a leader. It’s been hard to stand back and do nothing. I’ve had to pray for strength every day.”

He leaned back. “I think you’re praying for the wrong thing. Be yourself, Kade. Bree needs your strength and leadership even if she hasn’t admitted it to herself. Fight for her.”

“How? With Fletcher in the picture, Davy won’t give me the time of day. Bree notices that.”

“Davy needs leadership and guidance too. Show him the father he wants in his life is you. Win him the same way you’ll win Bree. Not with flowers or candy, but with a strong sense of purpose and a firm hand for the future. And don’t leave God out. I couldn’t function as a dad without God giving me some help.”