Code Blue by Richard L. Mabry Page A

prescriptions in practiced fashion before pulling one out with a flourish usually reserved for rabbits emerging from a magician's hat."I hope you realize that I can't let it out of my sight. Matter of fact, when you're through, I plan to seal it in an envelope and lock it in my safe. I suspect it will be an important piece of evidence in the near future."
    Cathy ignored the jab and focused on the slip of paper in front of her. Little by little, like a child peeking between her fingers at a scary movie, she let her eyes move across the prescription. The top line carried the notation "Milton Nix (DOB 6-29-57)." Cathy's NPI number was handwritten in the space at the bottom right. One refill was authorized. An X appeared in the box for "generic may be dispensed." Her signature at the bottom left no doubt about who had written the prescription: Catherine Sewell, MD.
    When she could no longer put it off, Cathy directed her gaze to the body of the prescription. As with all her prescriptions, the information was printed in a bold hand.
    DIGOXIN TABS 0.25 mg
    DISP: [# 30]
    SIG: 2 TABS Q DAY
    Two tablets a day of a medication twice as strong as was needed. Milton Nix would be taking four times the normal dose of the heart medication. It looked like her printing. It looked like her signature. But then she realized what was wrong, and she knew this wasn't the prescription she'd written for Milton Nix in her office.
    Maybe she wasn't losing her mind. Maybe someone really was out to get her. And they'd almost killed Nix in the process.

7
     
     
    T HE CHURCH SERVICE SUNDAY MORNING DID LITTLE TO CALM CATHY.True, the handshakes and hugs seemed genuine. The songs brought back memories of happier times, sitting between her parents not far from the pew she and Will occupied today. The sermon spoke of the love of God, and that was where Pastor Kennedy lost her. If God was so loving, why hadn't He protected her parents? Why had she been left orphaned? And where was God's love in all the troubles she had—professional roadblocks and financial pressure and attempts on her life?
    As she sat with the Kennedy family at lunch, Cathy let the conversation flow around her like rapids around a rock in a stream. She remained occupied with her own thoughts, and they weren't thoughts of peace and love.
    "You seem quiet today." Pastor Kennedy took the bowl of mashed potatoes from his wife and dropped a large spoonful on his plate. "Is there something you'd like to talk about?"
    Cathy shook her head. Talking to the pastor about her personal and professional troubles wouldn't help. She was the target for someone—some unknown person who didn't care who got in the way—but what could she do about it?
    When Will spoke from across the dining room table, it confirmed the concern she'd read on his face when he'd picked her up that morning. "I don't want to pry, but if you're having problems, this is the place to talk about them. I mean, I'm your lawyer, Dad is your pastor, and we all care about you. You can tell us anything."
    "No." The sharp retort came out before Cathy could stop it, but like a genie once out of the bottle, she couldn't get it back. She took a deep breath, put down the fork she'd been using to push food around on her plate without actually eating, and looked around the table. "Will, it may be a legal matter, but I'm not ready to talk about it right now. And Pastor Kennedy, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be disrespectful.But I have to confess—God and I haven't exactly been on speaking terms for the past few years."
    "You mean, since your parents were killed?"
    "Yes. I guess it was no secret that my mother had—" Cathy couldn't bring herself to say the word. "She had emotional problems. And as a result, she and Dad had some difficulties in their marriage. But he told me she was better.He thought they'd worked things out. My family would be together again. Then God let them get killed!" She squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from