Blind Spot by Terri Persons Page B

he was standing behind the counter, stoned.”
    “On what?”
    “Codeine was his first love. Worked his way up the food pyramid from there. OxyContin was one of his favorites.” She picked up her coffee mug, took a sip, and set it down. “He’s graduated from the prescription meds, though. Now he’s into a more dangerous high. Stuff he has to pay for himself.”
    He cupped his hands around his coffee. “But if he isn’t killing anyone but himself with his addiction…”
    “That’s not all.” She looked straight ahead. Past him. She chewed her bottom lip and picked a damp curl off her forehead.
    “Mrs. Stannard. This doesn’t rise to the level…”
    “Chris.”
    “Chris. If this is all there is…”
    She jumped in. “You don’t understand.” She reached across the table and clutched his arm. “He’s killing people right now. While we’re sitting here.”
    He leaned forward. “Tell me more.”
    “For years, he’s hopped around from one pharmacy to another. Always leaves before anyone gets wise. Never worked at my hospital, thank God. Mostly across town.”
    “Go on.”
    “His latest setup gives him access to serious goop. He mixes intravenous bags of medicine that are sold to doctors. Cancer doctors.”
    “Chemotherapy treatments.”
    She nodded grimly. “Gemzar. Taxol. Liquid gold.”
    “Has he been stealing sacks of the stuff? Selling it on the black market?”
    “Something worse. More devious.” She bit down on her bottom lip again. “He’s been diluting it with saline. Billing doctors like he’s selling them full-strength medicine.”
    “How much can he possibly make that way?”
    “One doctor can buy a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of drugs from him.”
    “A year?”
    “A month.”
    The big man leaned back in the booth. “Liquid gold is right.”
    “He came from money, but he always wants more. Needs more. Needs to fund his extracurricular activities.” She pushed her own untouched pie to one side and folded her hands together on top of the table. “The money isn’t the point, of course. His drug habit isn’t the point. His beating me and cheating on me—even that isn’t the point. My daughter and I, we could run away. Hide from him. I went back to work for that contingency. Got quite a nest egg going for myself. None of that matters. What matters is—”
    “Very sick people are getting watered-down drugs.” He sat up straight and asked: “How long has this been going on? How did you figure it out?”
    “Noah’s had the shop for a couple of years. He spilled his guts to me during one of his drinking jags. That was last winter, right after my mother died of ovarian cancer.” She looked out the window again and spoke to the pane of glass. “Her meds were mixed at his place.”
    “Your mother. I’m sorry.”
    As she continued staring out the window, she congratulated herself on reading him right. Definitely a momma’s boy. “Even if he was caught and convicted, he’d never get what he deserves. He needs to get what he deserves. And he needs it soon, before somebody else’s mother dies.” She turned away from the glass and looked across the table. “Anna said you can help.”
    He picked up his coffee cup and cradled it between both hands. “How do you two know each other?”
    “From the hospital. Not just from this stay. During her previous visits, too.”
    “I’m surprised we never ran into each other.” He drained his cup and set it down.
    “I work third shift mostly. Patients get attached to the night nurse, especially patients in a lot of pain. You’re their angel. Coming in with magic shots and pills. Talking to them while the rest of the world is asleep. She noticed a bruise. I opened up.” Her voice lowered. “She opened up.”
    He pulled out his wallet, took out some bills, and tossed them down on the table. “We need to talk in greater detail.” As he slipped his wallet back in his pants, he looked toward the diner’s glass doors. Two cops