Chapter 3: What the Prescription Said
The pharmacist read the name twice.
Then she looked up at the elderly woman.
"This prescription was written for you."
"Yes," the old woman said.
"It was."
Her voice was quiet but steady.
She was perhaps seventy, small-framed, wearing a pale blue cardigan that had been washed so many times the color had softened to almost white.
She held her purse against her side with both hands, the way people do when they are used to holding on to things tightly.
The man on the floor pushed himself up to one knee.
"That's my mother's prescription.
I was picking it up for her.
That's all this is."
The pharmacist looked at him.
Then back at the woman.
"Ma'am, is this your son?"
The elderly woman's jaw tightened.
A small, careful movement.
"He is."
"And did you ask him to pick up your medication today?"
A pause that lasted just a beat too long.
"No," she said.
"I did not."
The room went very still.
The man got to his feet.
His side was clearly hurting — he favored it as he straightened — but the pain didn't reach his face.
What reached his face was something else.
Calculation.
"Mom, don't do this here."
"I'm not doing anything," she said.
"I'm answering her question."
"You're confused.
You forget things.
You told me last week—"
"I told you last week that I wanted to handle my own medications." Her voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
"You said that was fine."
The woman in the gray blazer had not moved from her position beside the pharmacy manager.
Now she stepped forward, one measured step, and set her folder on the counter.
She opened it without drama, the way someone does when they have done this many times before.
"Mr.
Dalton," she said.
"My name is Agent Reyes.
I'm with the state pharmacy board's fraud investigation unit.
We've been monitoring this prescription account for eleven days."
Dalton's eyes moved to the folder.
He couldn't see what was inside it from where he stood, but his jaw shifted.
"We have records," Agent Reyes continued, "showing that medications prescribed to your mother — Ruth Dalton — have been collected from this location and two others in the county on a recurring basis.
Always by you.
Always without her knowledge, according to her own statement taken four days ago."
Ruth Dalton stood very still beside the counter.
She did not look at her son.
"Mom." His voice dropped.
The threat was still in it, but something else had crept in underneath.
Something that sounded almost like a plea.
"You talked to them?"
"Someone had to," she said.
She still wasn't looking at him.
The pharmacist — her badge read Simone — had not moved from her position.
She watched Dalton the way you watch something you are not afraid of but are not willing to look away from either.
"Mr.
Dalton," Simone said, "the medications on this prescription are controlled substances.
Opioid-class.
Collecting them without the patient's consent and without a valid authorization is a felony in this state."
"I have authorization." He said it fast.
Too fast.
"She gave me power of attorney."
Agent Reyes turned one page in her folder.
"The power of attorney document filed with this pharmacy was dated eight months ago.
Your mother's attorney contacted us six days ago to inform us that document was signed under conditions Mrs.
Dalton has described as coercive." She looked up.
"Her word, Mr.
Dalton.
Not ours."
Dalton turned to his mother.
The calculation was gone now.
What was left was rawer and harder to name.
"You're going to let them do this to me?
After everything I've done for you?"
Ruth Dalton finally looked at her son.
"You've been selling my pain medication," she said.
"For how long?"
He said nothing.
"How long?" she asked again.
Her voice cracked on the second word.
Just once.
Then it steadied.
Simone placed one hand lightly on the counter.
Not reaching for Ruth.
Just present.
Close enough.
Dalton's eyes moved to the security officers.
To Agent Reyes.
To the customers still frozen in the aisles.
His jaw worked once, like he was about to say something that would fix all of it.
Then his phone buzzed in his jacket pocket.
He reached for it instinctively.
Agent Reyes's hand came up.
"I'd leave that where it is."
He looked at her hand.
At the folder.
At his mother's face.
He left the phone in his pocket.
"We'll need you to come with us," Agent Reyes said.
"There are some questions we'd like to ask you at the field office."
"Am I under arrest?"
"Not at this moment." She closed the folder.
"But I'd strongly suggest you don't make any calls before we get there."
The security officers moved to flank him.
Dalton walked between them toward the pharmacy's side exit, his leather jacket creaking with each step.
At the door, he stopped.
Turned back once.
He looked at his mother.
Not at Simone.
Not at Agent Reyes.
At Ruth.
"I needed the money," he said.
"You don't know what I owe."
The door swung shut behind him.
Ruth Dalton stood at the counter.
Her hands were still clasped around her purse.
Her knuckles had gone pale.
Simone came around from behind the counter and stood beside her.
She didn't say anything immediately.
She just stood there, close enough that Ruth could feel another person's warmth.
"Do you have someone who can come be with you today?" Simone asked quietly.
Ruth looked at the door where her son had gone.
"I thought I did," she said.
Outside, through the pharmacy's glass front, a second agent was already on his phone.
A patrol car had pulled into the lot.
Ruth watched it through the glass.
Her expression was unreadable.
Then she turned back to Simone.
"Can I still get my prescription filled?"
Simone looked at her for a moment.
"Yes," she said.
"Absolutely.
Let's take care of that right now."
But as Simone turned back toward the counter, her eyes moved to the folder Agent Reyes had left behind.
One page was still visible at the edge.
A list of dates.
A list of amounts.
And at the bottom, a second name — not Dalton's — circled in red ink.
Simone stared at it for just a second too long.
Agent Reyes appeared at her shoulder.
"You weren't supposed to see that yet," she said quietly.
"Who is the second name?" Simone asked.
May you like
Agent Reyes picked up the folder and closed it.
"That," she said, "is why this case isn't over."
