J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 5-8 - J. R. Ward [468]
Lot of rotting food in the kitchen and dirty plates in the living room and laundry all over the bedroom.
Also a number of cellophane Baggies with white powder which—OMG!—had been heroin. Go. Fig.
Boyfriend had been nowhere to be seen. Last sighting of him at the apartment had been the night before at around ten. Next-door neighbor had heard Bobby G shouting. Then a door slam.
And records already obtained from the guy’s cell phone service provider had indicated that a call had been made to Chrissy’s phone at nine thirty-six.
Plainclothes surveillance had been set up immediately, and the detectives were checking in regularly, with no news whatsoever. But José didn’t think there was going to be any from that front. Chances were good that the place was going to stay a ghost town.
So there were two things on his radar: Find the boyfriend. And put a trail on ZeroSum’s head of security.
And his instincts told him it would be best for everyone if he found Bobby G before Alex Hess did.
EIGHT
While Havers was in seeing Rehvenge, Ehlena restocked one of the supply closets. Which just happened to be outside of exam room three. She stacked Ace bandages. Made a tower of plastic-wrapped gauze rolls. Created a Modigliani-esque arrangement from boxes of Kleenex, Band-Aids, and thermometer covers.
She was running out of things to organize when the door to the exam room opened with a click. She put her head out into the hall.
Havers truly looked like a physician, with his tortoiseshell glasses and his precisely parted brown hair and his bow tie and the white coat. He also carried himself like one, always calmly and thoughtfully in charge of his staff, his facilities, and, most of all, his patients.
But he didn’t seem himself as he stood in the corridor, frowning as if confused, rubbing his head like his temples hurt.
“Are you all right, Doctor?” she asked.
He glanced over, his eyes unusually vacant behind his lenses. “Er…yes, thank you.” Shaking himself, he handed her a prescription slip from on top of Rehvenge’s medical record. “I…ah…Would you be so kind as to bring the dopamine to this patient, as well as two doses of scorpion antivenin? I’d do it myself, but I do believe I need to have something to eat. I am feeling rather hypoglycemic.”
“Yes, Doctor. Right away.”
Havers nodded and put the patient’s file back into the holder beside the door. “Thank you so kindly.”
The doctor drifted away as if in a partial trance.
The poor male had to be exhausted. He’d been in the OR for most of the past two nights and days, tending to a birthing female, a male who had been in a car accident, and a small child who had been badly burned when he’d reached for a pot of boiling water on the stove. And that was on top of the fact that he hadn’t taken any time off in the two years she’d worked at the clinic. He was always on call, always there.
Kind of like she was with her father.
So, yeah, she knew exactly how tired he must be.
At the pharmacy, she handed the prescription to the pharmacist, who never made small talk and didn’t break with tradition today. The male went into the back and returned with six boxes of dopamine bottles and some antivenin.
As he handed the meds to her, he flipped a sign that said, BE BACK IN 15 MINUTES and stepped through the cutout door in the counter.
“Wait,” she said, struggling to hold the load. “This can’t be right.”
The male had his cigarette and his lighter already in his hands. “It is.”
“No, this is…Where’s the slip?”
Greater wrath faced no female than that she obstruct the path of a smoker finally getting his break. But she didn’t give a crap.
“Get me the slip.”
The pharmacist grumbled his