Chapter 4: The Second Name
Simone didn't sleep well that night.
She told herself it was the adrenaline.
The throw.
The way Dalton's weight had gone over her shoulder like something she'd trained for a hundred times but never expected to actually use outside a gym.
Her right shoulder ached in a dull, specific way that meant she'd feel it for a week.
But it wasn't the throw keeping her awake.
It was the name circled in red.
She'd only seen it for a second.
The ink had been dark, deliberate.
The circle drawn twice, like whoever drew it wanted to be sure it stayed visible.
She hadn't been able to read the full name before Agent Reyes closed the folder.
She'd caught the first letter.
A capital D.
And below it, what looked like a pharmacy license number.
A pharmacy license number.
She was at the counter by seven the next morning, thirty minutes before the pharmacy opened.
The overnight technician, Marcus, was restocking the shelves near the back.
He looked up when she came in.
"You're early."
"I know." She hung her coat and pulled up the dispensing records on the terminal.
"I need to check something."
She ran the account for Ruth Dalton.
Eleven months of records came up.
She scrolled through them slowly, cross-referencing the dates Agent Reyes's list had shown — the dates she'd memorized in the two seconds she'd had to look.
Four of the pickup dates matched days she had not been working.
She sat with that for a moment.
Then she pulled up the staff schedule.
Three of those four dates, the shift pharmacist had been a man named Dr.
Carl Draper.
The fourth date was a Saturday.
Draper again.
She stared at his name on the screen.
The door chimed.
The pharmacy manager, Howard, came in carrying two coffees.
He set one on the counter beside her without being asked.
He'd been doing that for three years.
"You look like you didn't sleep," he said.
"Howard." She turned the screen toward him.
"Did Agent Reyes speak to you yesterday after they left?
About the investigation?"
He looked at the screen.
Something moved across his face — not guilt, but recognition.
Like a man who has been waiting for a specific question and is relieved it has finally arrived.
"She did."
"She told you about the second name?"
He wrapped both hands around his coffee cup.
"She told me they had a person of interest inside the dispensing chain.
Someone who had been approving the pickups on days when the patient wasn't present and no valid authorization was on file." He paused.
"She didn't give me the name.
She said they needed forty-eight more hours."
"It's Draper," Simone said.
Howard looked at her.
"You don't know that."
"Three of the four unauthorized pickup dates are his shifts.
The pattern is too clean to be coincidence."
"Simone—"
"If someone inside the pharmacy was approving those pickups, Dalton couldn't have done this alone.
He needed someone on this side of the counter." She tapped the screen.
"Someone who could override the system flag.
Someone with a dispensing license."
Howard set his coffee down.
He didn't argue.
That told her more than anything he could have said.
"Does Draper know about yesterday?" she asked.
"He wasn't scheduled.
I don't know if anyone called him."
"Where is he today?"
"Day off."
Simone turned back to the screen.
She pulled up Draper's employee profile.
Twelve years at the pharmacy.
Clean record.
Two commendations from the regional manager.
A photograph that showed a man in his late fifties, silver-haired, with the kind of steady, professional expression that made patients trust him immediately.
She thought about Ruth Dalton's hands shaking as she pulled that piece of paper from her purse.
Eleven months of someone walking out with her medication.
Eleven months of pain she hadn't been able to manage because the pills prescribed to her were being sold somewhere else.
"I need to call Agent Reyes," Simone said.
"She left her card with me." Howard reached into his shirt pocket and put it on the counter without hesitation.
Simone picked it up.
Then she stopped.
"Howard.
Did you suspect him?"
He was quiet for a long moment.
Long enough that the answer was already clear before he spoke.
"I noticed the flag overrides six months ago," he said.
"I reported it to the regional compliance office.
They told me it had been reviewed and cleared."
"Cleared by who?"
He picked up his coffee again.
"That's what I'd like to know."
Simone's phone buzzed on the counter.
She looked down.
An unknown number.
Local area code.
She answered it.
"Ms.
Carter." The voice was male.
Measured.
Familiar in a way she couldn't immediately place.
"I think we should talk before you make any calls this morning.
I know what you found on that screen.
And I know what you think it means." A pause.
"You're not wrong.
But you're only seeing part of it."
Her grip tightened on the phone.
"Who is this?"
"Someone who has been watching this case longer than Agent Reyes has," the voice said.
"And someone who needs you to wait — just twenty-four hours — before you do anything that can't be undone."
May you like
The line stayed open.
Waiting.
