There were no boxes of medication visible. His desk was messy, strewn with papers surrounding his computer. His desk drawers held nothing but office supplies. The filing cabinet only contained files. Thinking back to a time when she had been in this room, there was virtually nothing changed. If Kate had found anything about Robert, it didn’t come from his office.
Flipping off the light, she closed the door as she reentered the hall. Walking around the clinic, there were examining rooms, supply closets, the nurses’ station, the staff workroom, the reception area. Lots of nooks and crannies, but nowhere for someone to keep something secret from everyone else. With emptied trash cans, it was obvious the cleaning night crew had come through.
The only other office was Dr. Tiller’s and she was certain it would be locked. A jiggle on the doorknob proved her right. She felt her key in her pocket and it struck her that she assumed it would only work on the door between the shelter and clinic. But what if it was a master key? The key slid into the lock in his doorknob, and she was stunned when it turned. Opening the door gently, she flipped on the light.
His desk was much neater than Robert’s. All papers were filed neatly, and the files were stacked precisely on one corner. A small table sat behind the door, piled high with the sample boxes of medication that Beth delivered. A quick check of his desk and filing cabinet yielded the same results as Robert’s. Nothing but files and office supplies.
She sighed, frustrated that her flight of fancy at being able to find something pertaining to Kate’s message was not coming to fruition. She turned back to the table of sample boxes, curious as to what drugs a pharmaceutical company handed out. Knowing the costs of medication, the practice seemed excessive but very standard.
She recognized a few names on the medical labels. Common antibiotics. Picking up one of the small boxes, she was reminded of Polly. She had not asked Carter about Polly recently but knew she was out on bail, obviously no longer working at the clinic. Or probably anywhere right now. She had never questioned the practice of pharmaceutical companies supplying drugs to doctors’ offices and clinics until Polly’s situation. It came down to a simple marketing strategy of spending money to make money. She had read that doctors who received drugs from pharmaceutical companies were more likely to recommend and prescribe those drugs.
Replacing the antibiotic box back onto the table, her attention snagged on the clear, round plastic seal. Lifting the box again, she could see that the seal had been slit open. Carefully lifting the flap, she took out a plastic pill bottle. Opening the top, she peered at the pills inside. Blinking, she stepped backward to allow the overhead light to illuminate what she was seeing. Inside was a combination of different pills. There was no way these were the same antibiotics that were listed on the label. I’ve got to tell Carter!
Indecision struck as she tried to figure out the best course of action. If she took the whole bottle, would Dr. Tiller see an empty box? If she took the whole box, would Dr. Tiller notice it was missing?
Checking several other boxes, she discovered almost all were still sealed, indicating whatever type of drug was on the outside must be what was on the inside. Besides the bottle in her hand, she found two others that were unsealed. Observation concluded they were also filled with a variety of pills.
Pulling her phone from her pocket, she snapped pictures. The table. The boxes. The broken seals. The pill bottles. She even dumped some of the pill varieties on the table, taking pictures of those as well. As she replaced the pills inside the bottle, she held out three. All different shapes, colors, and sizes. Wrapping those in a tissue, she shoved it into her pocket. Carefully placing everything back exactly the way she found it, she stepped backward and looked around the office. Assured it was just as she found it, she went into the hall, relocked his door, and scurried back to the shelter.
Her hands shook as she pulled her phone back out of her pocket and called Carter. Oh, lordy.
“Are you crazy? Seriously fuckin’ crazy? Jesus, Tara, where was your head?”
Carter was livid. His hands clenched around his steering wheel so tight he was surprised it didn’t crack. Glancing to the side, he saw her open her mouth to respond, but he wasn’t finished.
“You sneaked into the clinic when you had no idea if someone could be there. Knowing that Kate had suspicions that probably got her killed. Someone who, like you, figured no one would be there since the clinic was closed and decided they wanted to keep doing whatever it was that she discovered!”
“I know, I know! But, Carter, I had to do something. It was a calculated risk—”
“You think?”
“Okay, it was a risk. But I kept playing Kate’s message over and over and all I could think of was that she had something she wanted to tell me. Something important. I felt like I had to
