Chapter 6 - THE MEDICATION THAT WASN'T PRESCRIBED
The equipment inspection revealed nothing immediately suspicious.
But the medication records did.
I had been reviewing Desmond's prescriptions when I noticed an unfamiliar entry.
A sedating medication had been added to his electronic chart two months before I arrived.
The prescribing physician was listed as Dr. Leonard Price.
Desmond's former neurologist.
I frowned.
"Desmond, when did Dr. Price last examine you?"
He looked up.
"Four months ago."
I checked the date.
The prescription had been renewed three weeks earlier.
"That's strange."
He watched me.
"What?"
"There's a renewal, but no documented assessment."
I contacted the pharmacy and the prescribing office through the proper clinical channels.
The office confirmed that Dr. Price had not authorized the renewal.
The electronic request appeared to have been submitted using compromised credentials.
I reported the discrepancy to Desmond's current physician and Detective Hayes.
That evening, Desmond sat quietly beside the window.
"Someone was drugging me?"
I hesitated.
"We don't know whether you received the medication or what effect it had. The doctors need to review the records."
He looked at me.
"But someone tried."
I nodded.
"Possibly."
His expression hardened.
"Victoria."
I shook my head.
"Don't jump ahead of the evidence."
He looked at me.
"You sound like Hayes."
"Good. She's smart."
He almost smiled.
Then looked down.
"Claire."
"Yes?"
"What if the accident wasn't the reason I stopped recovering?"
My chest tightened.
I sat beside him.
"We don't know that."
He swallowed.
"What if someone wanted me to stay like this?"
I looked at him.
"Then we find out."
His eyes filled.
"And if I never walk again?"
I took a breath.
"Then you still get to have a life."
He stared at me.
"A real one."
I nodded.
"With work, friends, love, bad jokes, and arguments about whether toast counts as dinner."
A broken laugh escaped him.
"Toast doesn't count as dinner."
I smiled.
"Exactly."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then whispered:
"You're the first person who's said that."
I frowned.
May you like
"Said what?"
"That I can still have a life."
