Maybe it was common in relationships too.
Walking out would be the easy solution. Just put the whole ugly conversation—and him—behind her. He was the threat. Maybe her own shortcomings got in the way, but without him, her shortcomings didn’t matter. It would just be her. Alone. Like she wanted.
She thought.
And yet, she stood at his door, unmoving. Down deep, in that horrible place where she had to face her own demons, she recognized that she’d never be capable of a healthy relationship if she didn’t give up this constant expectation of disappointment. Who in their right mind would want her?
An addict with a hero complex, that’s who.
We’re so screwed.
She gave up on the ceiling. Jack stood there, waiting for—what? “It’s not always a deal breaker,” she said.
“What? Specifically?”
“I don’t know. Specifically. But you just came at me really hard about my biggest hot button and I’m still here. So don’t say it’s always a deal breaker. I’m resisting the urge to run and I’m scared. Are you happy?”
He smiled. “That you’re here, yes. That you’re resisting running, that you’re scared? No. But one thing I can say is most of the time fear won’t kill you. It’s what you do with fear that could kill you.”
“Yeah, well, let’s hope me standing here won’t kill me.”
“I think you’ll be okay. I think we’ll both be okay.”
Chapter Seventeen
By the grace of some alternate force, Jillian managed to arrive at work by 8:00 a.m. The day already felt as if it had lasted a month, but she paused in the parking lot to plaster on the smile of the model employee she wanted her bosses to see. As much as she despised being there, she wouldn’t give them any ammunition for Operation Nutcase.
After sufficiently convincing herself she could withstand another day, she swung through the warehouse door and saw a few of the third-shift crew stacking part of a shipment. Rick, the shift foreman, a tall, lanky guy in his early thirties, stood behind a column of totes writing something on a yellow notepad.
“Morning, Rick,” she called.
He glanced up, took a long look at her mauled face and jerked his head back. “Yikes. What happened to you?”
So much for the huge sunglasses that she’d hoped would hide the bruises. Without thought, she brought one of her hands to her face. “Accident. I’m fine.”
The rumor mill in the warehouse was a powerful thing and by lunchtime half the place would know her home had been invaded. Even if she didn’t tell anyone, she was sure someone, somewhere would know.
“Jeez, Jillian, that looks painful.”
“It’s not that bad.”
Even now, her penchant to buck up, to protect her secrets, couldn’t be denied. She would have liked to tell him it hurt like hell and that the men who attacked her better never run into her when she had a bat in her hands.
Rick tore off the paper he’d been writing on and approached her. “I was just leaving you guys a note.”
A note.
Interesting. Obviously, Rick hadn’t gotten the memo that she was persona non grata. She should tell him she couldn’t help. After what the company had put her through, she wasn’t inclined to do anything outside the scope of her job responsibilities. Which, as of late, was extremely limited.
At the same time, it couldn’t hurt to be cooperative.
She took the paper from him. “What is it?”
“We just got a call from a clinic that says they received their shipment, but one of the boxes isn’t theirs.”
Eh. No biggie. “Did you look it up on the manifest?”
“Yeah. There’s no record of it.”
That was a biggie. “What?”
“I found their regular shipment in the system, but the tote they have is for Baxtin. I’m not seeing a delivery for Baxtin. It’s time for me to clock out. Can you take care of it?”
How her heart went pitter-patter. Considering the drug involved, she’d undoubtedly take care of it. Another phantom shipment. She needed to get her hands on that tote and see what was in it.
“It’s only one tote?”
Rick nodded. “Yeah.”
Jillian glanced at the warehouse entrance. The morning shift, including Cliff and Ned, would be walking in anytime. She’d have to beat them to this. “I’ll run over and pick up the tote. Then we can figure out who it belongs to.”
She’d figure it out, all right.
“That’d be great,” Rick said. “I’ve never had this happen before. Screwy.”
“That it is. Which account is it? I’ll need the name and address.”
He walked back to the stack of crates where he’d written the note, checked his clipboard and jotted the address. “It’s Ryder Medical. I can head out?”
“Yes. I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Rick.”
She waited for him to leave and, with the clinic address in hand, walked out the door and back to her car. On the way, she dug her phone from her purse and called Jack.
This might be the break they needed.
* * *
“You’re doing what?” Lynx asked, rocking back and forth in his desk chair.
Helluva day so far and it was still early. If he didn’t dive into a bottle of painkillers today it would be a goddamn miracle.
“There’s a wayward shipment of Baxtin at a clinic. I’m picking it up.”
“Why would they suddenly ask you to do this? They’ve been freezing you out all week.”
“They didn’t ask. Nobody else knows. Except Rick. He’s the third-shift foreman. I was first in this morning and ran into him. He probably doesn’t know the freeze is on.”
Lynx rubbed his thumb and middle finger across his forehead. “I’ll do it.”
“It has to be me. I’ll just run over there and pick it up. It’s only in Skokie.”
She’d lost her damned mind. The fact that Baxtin, the drug from the phantom shipments, was involved sent his shit storm meter into the red. “How do you know this guy Rick isn’t setting you up?”
“Jack, it’s a clinic.”
“You don’t think an employee at a clinic can be bribed?”
Silence. Yes, my dear, allow that nasty thought to sink in.
“Well, hey, I didn’t think of that. It’s a good point.”
“We’ll go together. Pick me up in front of my office.”
After fighting the tail end of rush hour traffic, they walked into the front entrance of Ryder Medical Clinic and the antiseptic hospital stench that Lynx despised caught him up short. His chest seized.
Jillian, a few steps ahead of him, paused. “You okay?”
He stared at her battered and swollen face, the pixie hair and big brown eyes and thought for a second he might tell her the truth. That, no, he was not okay. But she didn’t need that now. If he told her, she’d obsess about him relapsing. Can’t go there, dumbass. She needed him to focus on the mission and retrieving this box of drugs.
“I hate that smell.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s stale, right?”
“Something like that. Who do we need to see?”
On the way over, Jillian had called to let the clinic know she’d be picking up the wayward drugs. “They said to talk to the receptionist and she’d escort us back.”
Just ahead of them was a winding staircase with a sign pointing up for radiology and left for reception. Jillian’s low heels clicked on the tiled floor and echoed through the quiet building. Apparently, there weren’t a lot of emergencies this morning because the place was a tomb.
At the reception desk, a heavyset middle-aged woman put aside a newspaper and greeted them.
“I’m Jillian Murdoch from Stennar Pharm. Drew
is expecting us.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll get him up here.”
They waited all of three and a half minutes until Drew appeared on the staircase leading from the lower floor.
They shook hands and Drew, being the responsible employee he was, asked Jillian for her Stennar Pharm ID. Old Drew wasn’t about to let two people off the street leave with a box of prescription meds.
At least Lynx hoped not, but this guy could be on the take as much as anyone.
After checking Jillian’s credentials, Drew escorted them to the lower floor then through a doorway leading to a large storage room. A lidded plastic box sat on a table in the middle of the room and the pouch on the side held some kind of paperwork that stuck out.
“Here it is.” Drew held up a length of plastic that must have been securing the lid. “Obviously, we opened it. That’s how we knew it was the wrong shipment. The paperwork in the pouch must have gotten mixed up.”
Jillian checked the paper in the pouch. “You’re missing a box of the blood pressure meds?”
“Yeah. Do you guys have it at the warehouse?”
“I’m sure it’s there. I’ll check when I get back and send it right over.”
Drew nodded. “I don’t want to be a dick about this, but how the hell did you people screw this up? The paperwork isn’t even right.”
But he didn’t want to be a dick about it. Lynx let out a long, slow breath. Best to keep his mouth shut and let Jillian handle this one.
“I apologize, Drew. You’re right. We did screw it up. I’ll figure it out and get you the right shipment.”
He shoved a clipboard at her. “I need you to sign this.”
Jillian glanced at Lynx, then took the clipboard and signed the form. No way around it, but hell, now there was a trail linking her to this particular box.
She handed the clipboard over. “Thanks.”
“Yeah. Sure. Just fix this screw-up.”
Lynx had heard enough from this guy. Jillian had apologized. No sense berating her over it. He stepped forward and hefted the box. “I think we’re done here. We’ll get back to you.”
“Make sure you do.”
Okay, pal, now I kick your ass. Lynx swung to Drew, but Jillian dug her fingers into his back and pushed him toward the door. Hand signal to get out.
* * *
Jillian watched Jack store the tote in her trunk, but her fingers itched to break it open. The answers they craved might be inside and they needed to get someplace where they could open it.
“What are you thinking?” he asked
“We have to open the tote and go through it.”
He slammed the trunk and looked around. “Let’s find a busy parking lot. We’ll head back to that main road. Plenty of strip malls up there.”
Minutes later, Jillian turned onto Dempster, where finding a busy spot wouldn’t be a problem. They traveled three blocks before Jack pointed to a strip mall with a supermarket and a line of smaller businesses. “Across the street. Right there. UPS store.”
The UPS store sat next to a market in a busy strip center. No one would look sideways at two people opening a box in the parking lot.
The car had barely been parked when Jack jumped out. She popped the trunk from her seat before joining him outside. By the time she’d reached him, he already had his hands on the tote lid, but hadn’t lifted it. He simply stood there, hands on the box.
“What?” she asked.
“I shouldn’t have touched it. Here or at the clinic. Could be evidence.” He shook his head. “Stupid.”
“Then I’m stupid too because I didn’t think of it. I’ve got napkins in the car. At least you won’t put any prints on what’s inside.”
A minute later she returned with a wad of napkins and shoved them at him. He lifted the lid and found smaller, neatly stacked boxes within the tote. Using the napkin, he pulled one box and set it on top of the stack.
Jillian craned her neck to see inside the tote. “There should be a plastic bag inside the boxes that’s tied with a twist tie. The vials are separated by a foam insert in the bag.”
He flipped open the smaller box containing the drug.
“There’s your polybag.”
Still using the napkin, he undid the twist tie—not an easy task—then slid one of the vials out. Grasping the napkin at the top end of the vial, she took the vial from him and read the label. Baxtin.
Okay, so they knew there wasn’t some other drug being shipped under the guise of it being a blood thinner.
“How’s it look?”
“I’m not an expert, but everything looks normal.” Hang on. She brought the vial closer. “Except...”
Jack tilted his head. “What?”
“The rubber looks weird.”
Not exactly a shattering crime-solving discovery on her part.
“Weird how?”
“I don’t know. The rubber in these tops is usually pristine. After the needle goes in, the rubber heals itself, but this one looks weird. It doesn’t look as new as it should.”
“You’re thinking these drugs have been tampered with?”
She had no idea. Could be. Or maybe there was a defect with the vial. Could be any number of things.
“Jillian?”
Mr. Impatient. “Jack, I don’t know. We might be able to check the lot numbers. See if these are stolen. But that means calling the manufacturer.”
Calling the manufacturer would trigger an investigation. Could be a good idea that would pressure Stennar Pharm.
“The other night you said the manufacturer doesn’t always do recalls. What has to happen to get a recall?”
“Depends. “
“Hell of an answer, Jillian.”
“I know, but it’s the best I have. Unless the manufacturer recalls the entire lot, there is no way to tell which of the vials were tampered with.”
He took the vial from her, wrapped the napkin around it and shoved it in his jacket pocket.
“Wait,” she said. “We’re keeping that? We’ll get caught.”
Moving swiftly, he repackaged the remaining vials and rearranged the smaller boxes so the one with the missing vial would be on the bottom. “We’ll get this label checked before we get caught.”
She put her hands up. “You’re banking on something being amiss with these vials so we don’t go to jail for pharmaceutical theft?”
He replaced the lid on the box, shut the trunk and turned to her. “Yes.”
“Oh, you have lost it.” And he expected her to lose it with him. A dull ache in her stomach made her queasy. Taking that vial meant putting her trust in him. Believing in him. Her history didn’t allow for such luxuries.
He folded his arms and leaned one hip against the trunk. “I’m open to other ideas, but we’ve been chasing phantom shipments of Baxtin all week. If this vial can tell us what’s going on, it’s worth the risk.”
She stacked her hands on top of her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“I know, but there’s not much choice. Time is ticking and you need to get this box back to the warehouse before your boss starts wondering where you are.”
“And then what? Hope no one checks what’s inside? That won’t work. The tote isn’t sealed. The first thing they’ll do is check the contents.”
He brought his hands down and set one of them on the trunk lid. “Then we need to hope we can get this vial tested fast. If it’s been tampered with, maybe we can give our friends at the DEA a reason to raid Stennar Pharm’s warehouse.”
The dull ache in Jillian’s stomach turned to stabbing pain. They were about to steal a vial of a prescription drug. If they got caught, they very well could go to jail.
Jack set a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me on this, okay?
I have a plan.”
Of course he did. “I know you have a plan. You always do. I’m just not sure I like it.”
For maximum swaying power, he squeezed her shoulder. This man was good. “I understand. Let’s give Boller from the DEA a call and let him know what we’ve got. I’d lay odds he’ll want to test the vial. While we’re waiting to do the handoff, we’ll lock the vial in my office safe.”
“I have to take this tote back to the warehouse or they’ll know something is up.”
“You’re going to do that. Not alone, though.”
She scoffed. “How are you supposed to come with me?” And if her voice sounded a little shriekish, well, she couldn’t help that.
The superhero paused. Got him there.
“You take me back to my office and I’ll lock up the vial. I’ll follow you back to the warehouse.”
“And do what? You can’t come in with me. How would I explain that?” Now it was her turn to think. “Hang on. You wait outside while I take the tote in. I’ll know within a few minutes if they catch one of the vials is missing. They are so tight with the handling of the drugs, someone will go through the tote immediately. It just depends on if they open each individual box.”
He waggled a finger. “Call me on your cell and leave the phone line open while you’re in there. I’ll hear everything. If something gets screwed, I’ll come find you. I mean, it’s not great, but it’s all we’ve got. Are you up for going in there alone?”
She nodded. “I can do it. I may puke my guts out afterward, but I can do it.” She patted her blazer pocket. “I’ll keep the phone in my pocket.”
A car pulled into the spot two down from them and she glanced at the driver. A middle-aged woman. Her paranoia continued to climb. But who could blame her after what had happened this week?
Jack held his hands up for a double high-five. “Let’s deliver this box.”
“Right. We’ll call Agent Boller too.”
She dug through her purse for the DEA agent’s card and, when she got into the car, passed it to Jack. “Here’s his card. His cell number is on the back.”
Opposing Forces Page 21
