Chapter 3 - Someone Changed Mia’s Medication Order
I should have gone home.
That was what suspended employees did.
They surrendered their badge, signed paperwork and waited for administrators to decide which version of events protected the hospital best.
Instead, I discovered somebody had entered a medication order under my credentials forty-seven minutes after my access was revoked.
The order was for Mia.
I knew because Dr. Shaw called me before I made it to the parking garage.
“Elena, did you order lorazepam for Bennett?”
“No.”
Silence.
“Elena?”
“I haven't ordered anything. I'm suspended.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I turned around.
Security stopped me at the elevator.
“My badge is dead.”
“Administration says you can't enter clinical areas.”
I called Torres.
Five minutes later, I walked back upstairs beside a detective.
That improved everyone's manners.
Dr. Shaw showed us the order.
My employee ID.
My electronic signature.
My credentials.
Except I hadn't written it.
The dose was high for Mia's condition.
Not immediately lethal.
But enough to suppress her responsiveness and make neurological deterioration harder to detect.
“Someone wants her quiet,” I said.
Torres photographed the screen.
“Or wants you blamed if she gets worse.”
Both possibilities were bad.
Then we checked the login location.
Medication room 4B.
A camera faced the hallway outside it.
The footage showed a woman in blue scrubs entering at 4:17 a.m.
Same height as me.
Same dark hair.
Same build.
Her face stayed turned away.
She wore my spare badge.
The one that should have been inside my locker.
I went cold.
“Open my locker.”
Security did.
My spare badge was gone.
So was a bottle of controlled medication I had never seen before.
Dr. Reeves arrived while Torres was documenting it.
His outrage looked almost rehearsed.
“This is precisely why Nurse Ward was suspended.”
Torres turned.
“You knew drugs were in her locker?”
Reeves stopped.
“Of course not.”
“Then how is that precisely why?”
A small mistake.
But I saw it.
So did Torres.
Reeves recovered quickly.
“I mean her increasingly erratic behavior.”
I laughed.
“Refusing to abandon a child for a rich drunk is erratic?”
“This is not the place.”
“You put narcotics in my locker.”
“Elena!”
Dr. Shaw stepped between us.
Reeves' face turned red.
Then Gabriel appeared at the end of the hallway.
He did not belong in an ICU corridor.
Yet somehow everyone moved aside.
Reeves looked furious.
“You cannot keep entering restricted areas.”
Gabriel stopped beside Torres.
“I was invited by law enforcement.”
Torres sighed.
“Technically, I said he could answer questions.”
“Close enough,” Gabriel said.
He looked at the medication screen.
Then at me.
“You were framed.”
“Apparently.”
“Fast.”
“Very.”
His gaze moved to Reeves.
The administrator stiffened.
Gabriel didn't threaten him.
That would have been easier.
Instead he said, “Doctor, why did you access Dana Bennett's wrecked vehicle?”
Reeves went pale.
Torres looked sharply at him.
“I was checking for hospital property.”
“What hospital property?”
“Documents.”
“What documents?”
Reeves hesitated.
That was enough.
Torres said, “We should continue this conversation downstairs.”
Reeves immediately requested counsel.
Again, lawyers.
Always a healthy sign.
He left with police.
Gabriel watched him go.
“You should leave the hospital.”
I looked at him.
“That's twice tonight someone has said that.”
“This time it isn't an insult.”
“I know.”
“Come somewhere secure.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I met you six hours ago.”
“And someone stole your badge, forged orders and planted narcotics in your locker.”
“You think that makes staying in a location owned by a crime boss sound more appealing?”
His jaw tightened.
“Fair.”
I went home anyway.
Bad decision.
My apartment door was closed.
Locked.
Nothing looked broken.
I noticed the silence first.
I have an old refrigerator that clicks every few minutes.
It wasn't clicking.
The power strip beneath my television was dark.
Someone had switched off the breaker.
I remained in the hallway and called Torres.
Then I heard movement inside.
Slow.
Deliberate.
I backed away.
The door opened.
A man in a maintenance jacket stepped out.
He saw me.
Ran.
I followed for exactly three steps before remembering I was a nurse, not an action hero.
Police arrived minutes later.
My apartment had been searched.
Drawers.
Closets.
Mattress.
Desk.
Nothing obvious stolen.
Then I found what they wanted.
A grocery receipt.
I stared at the empty place on my refrigerator.
Mia had arrived without family.
At admission, the paramedics gave me a plastic evidence pouch containing small personal items from the car: her phone, a bracelet, two receipts.
One receipt had fallen out while I documented them.
I had shoved it into my scrub pocket and forgotten.
When I got home after a previous shift? No.
That made no sense.
Then I remembered.
Dana Bennett had been in our ER three weeks earlier.
Not as a patient.
She came looking for me.
I hadn't remembered her name.
She asked whether I was Elena Ward, then seemed frightened and left before explaining why.
She dropped a receipt from a storage facility.
I had pinned it to my refrigerator because the back contained a handwritten number.
314.
Someone had taken it.
Torres listened.
Gabriel, who arrived despite nobody inviting him, listened too.
“You met Dana before tonight,” he said.
“Apparently.”
“She sought you specifically.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Torres asked, “What was on the receipt?”
“Storage company.”
“Which?”
“Liberty Lockers.”
Gabriel immediately made a call.
I glared.
“Stop doing that.”
“What?”
“Being useful without permission.”
“I’ll work on it.”
The storage facility had three locations.
Unit 314 existed at one.
Rented under Dana's maiden name.
Police obtained an emergency warrant.
Inside was no blue folder.
But there was a laptop.
A photograph of Dr. Reeves.
A photograph of Victor Santi.
And a page containing one sentence:
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, THE HOSPITAL AND THE MORETTIS ARE PART OF THE SAME MACHINE.
Gabriel read it twice.
Then looked at me.
“You still think I'm the dangerous part?”
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
“But maybe not the only dangerous part.”
He nodded.
Progress.
Then Torres opened the laptop.
The first file contained Northstar Medical invoices.
The second contained hospital purchasing records.
The third was labeled:
SOFIA MORETTI.
Gabriel stopped breathing.
I looked at him.
“Who is Sofia?”
He didn't answer immediately.
When he finally did, his voice sounded different.
“My wife.”
I glanced toward Nico.
He wasn't there.
“Where is she?”
Gabriel looked at the file.
“She died twelve years ago.”
Torres opened the first document.
It was an autopsy report.
Across the top, in red capital letters, someone had typed:
CAUSE OF DEATH ALTERED.
May you like
Gabriel sat down.
For the first time, the man everyone feared looked afraid.
