46

Piper entered the office on a chilly, gray Monday, looking for Lazarus, who hadn’t replied to her messages. She pondered if Vegas’s abrupt weather changes were typical everywhere in this part of the country.

Riley sat at his desk speaking on the phone. Lazarus wasn’t there.

Piper sat down at her desk and waited until he was off the phone. He said, “Okay, love you,” and hung up and nodded a greeting to her.

“Riley, do you know where Lazarus is?”

He shrugged. “Following something up outta town.”

“Really? Where?”

“I don’t know.”

She hesitated. “I have to go somewhere that I’m a little nervous about,” she said awkwardly. “There’s a doctor that was prescribing pills to Emily Grace and put Sophie on antidepressants and a mood stabilizer. I’d like to speak with him. Since he could be, I don’t know, a suspect or whatever, I thought I should have a police officer with me.”

“Where is he?”

“Twin Lakes.”

He nodded and rose, the chair creaking as his massive frame lifted. “You shouldn’t go there alone,” he declared. “I’ll come.”

Piper settled into the passenger seat of Riley’s F-350, an imposingly large truck that dwarfed most vehicles she’d seen. She wondered if he drove it because he liked the truck or simply because he couldn’t fit into anything else.

Twin Lakes was on the outskirts of the city.

Piper noticed Twin Lakes’ contrast to its idyllic name. Buildings marked with graffiti and wear lined the streets. The neighborhood buzzed with life, but tension was there, a community caught between hope and crime, just on the fringes of Vegas’s glitz.

To break the silence, Piper asked, “Was that your wife on the phone?”

“Yes,” Riley replied, offering nothing more.

“How did you two meet?”

“High school.”

She waited for more and realized there wasn’t anything else. “You’re not much for talking, are you?”

“Smart people only talk when they have something to say, not just to say something.”

Piper reflected on his words, realizing there might be more depth to him than she initially thought.

Piper assessed the medical office, located in a residential area flanked by run-down homes and a gas station. Parking near the building, with its brown bricks and dirty windows, she doubted the legitimacy of Emily Grace’s back injury. There was no reason for her to drive this far out of her way for a prescription.

After exiting the car, Piper and Riley walked across the parking lot to the clinic’s entrance. Riley held the door open for her. Inside, they found Dr. Thomas Newman’s office to the right, where a receptionist looked up and seemed momentarily taken aback by Riley’s size.

“Hi, I’m Piper Danes. I’m an attorney representing one of Dr. Newman’s patients. I was hoping I could speak to him.”

“Oh, um, sure, he’s with a patient right now, but I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Thank you.”

In the waiting room, Piper took a seat while Riley stood leaning against the wall. Their presence caught the attention of a young boy there with his mother. Captivated by Riley’s imposing figure, the boy couldn’t help but stare. Noticing this, Riley gave the boy a friendly wink, eliciting a shy smile before the boy averted his gaze.

A few minutes later a man came out in Dockers and a button-up shirt, a stethoscope around his neck.

“Hi,” he said casually, “can I help you?”

“Yes, Doctor, my name is Piper Danes, and this is Detective Riley. We’re here to discuss one of your patients, Sophie Grace.”

“Oh, well, okay, come on back.”

Dr. Newman guided them to a small, cluttered office at the back. The disarray wasn’t due to an abundance of medical literature or books; it seemed haphazardly untidy, as if little care was given to appearance.

Piper and Riley took their seats as Dr. Newman settled behind his desk, watching them with a faint smile. Piper sensed an effort in his demeanor, as if he was trying to project a calm he didn’t feel.

“Dr. Newman, part of my responsibility is safeguarding Sophie’s welfare. I’ve noticed that you’re the one who prescribed medications to both her and Emily Grace. Is that correct?”

“That’s right, yes. I knew them for some time. But I can’t discuss their records without the consent of the next of kin.”

Riley said, “They don’t have any next of kin.”

The words hung in the air.

Piper said, “I’m Sophie’s legal guardian right now, so you can discuss anything with me that you could have with her mother.”

He shook his head. “You’ll have to get a warrant.”

“I don’t need a warrant; a court order is just a phone call away,” Piper asserted, pausing briefly. “Can you at least share what you feel comfortable discussing about Sophie’s treatment?”

Dr. Newman shook his head. “There’s not much to say. Teen depression and anxiety are rampant these days. They occasionally need medical help, and that’s all I provided.”

“What about her mother?”

“What about her?”

“It struck me as odd that she would drive all the way out here for a prescription when a local family doctor was basically around the corner from her.”

“What exactly are you asking?”

Frustrated with the indirect responses, Piper chose a straightforward approach. “You prescribed oxycodone to Emily Grace, possibly longer than necessary. However, my concern is Sophie. Let’s focus on her. If you talk to me about Sophie, I won’t delve into her mother.”

Dr. Newman glanced at Riley, who folded his arms and gave a small nod, as though letting him know it was in his best interest to talk.

Dr. Newman cleared his throat. “I’m still not sure what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking if she really needed these medications or if you gave them to her because her mother asked you to.”

“That would be malpractice.”

“Yes, it would.”

The two held each other’s gaze. “Her mother asked for my recommendation, and those were the two medications I recommended.”

“Did Emily say what was going on in Sophie’s life that she required these medications?”

“She said she was depressed and moody.”

“Having a mother addicted to opioids can do that,” she said with a bit more anger than she had meant to.

The doctor swallowed and finally got the courage to say, “I think you should probably speak to my lawyer at this point.”

“There’s no need, I think I got the answer I was looking for. Thank you for your time.”

As they were walking outside, Riley said, “That was a waste.”

“No, not really. I just wanted to know if Sophie really needed to be on those meds, and I don’t think she did. Her mother wanted her on them, and the doctor just saw dollar signs. A lot of medicine is about money now.”

“Everything’s about money.”

“You sound like Lazarus.”

“Even he’s right sometimes.”