Clarissa looked at the pile of paper work that waited for her twenty minutes from now when they closed. It had definitely caught up to her in these past couple of weeks. Having Paige here had made her life easier in a lot of ways, but an easier life was not the main goal. Her goal was to power through this job, in this place that she hated, and be running her very own Parrish Apothecary by this time next year. With Paige off the payroll, that just might happen.
She wondered where Paige had found a job. She almost envied her—she was out of this place, at least. Probably working back in Nashville, happy to be out of dullsville.
Clarissa thought back to her times in pharmacy school, working in the pharmacology lab, all the potential of the world right at her fingertips. Now she stood at the counter and argued with people about whether or not their insurance covered generic or brand-name tranquilizers. Why didn’t she feel all-knowing and self-sufficient like she’d always thought pharmacists did?
Dawn walked over and whispered, “Isn’t that the inspector guy who just walked in?”
Clarissa looked up, and sure enough Gary Powell was heading her way. It surprised her that he hadn’t come sooner, since Paige had likely called him after she got fired a couple of weeks ago. No matter, Clarissa had seen to it that her interests were covered. She was prepared to deal with this head-on. She walked down to meet him at the counter. “What brings you back our way so soon?” She smiled and leaned casually on the counter even though she could feel her palms starting to sweat.
His lips screwed up into what could have been a smile, but maybe it was a grimace. “I was hoping you’d pull up one prescription in particular for me to look at.”
“Of course, come on back.” Clarissa almost forgot herself and went straight to the Feldhouse prescription, but at the last second she looked up at him. “What is it you want to see?” She rested her fingers on the keyboard and waited.
“Do you have a patient at this pharmacy named Ora Vaerge?”
“The name doesn’t sound familiar. Let me check the computer.” She typed some commands into the keyboard. “How do you spell that last name?”
“V A E R G E.”
“Oh yes, here she is. What do you need to know?”
“Do you have a prescription for Topamax on file for her?”
Clarissa looked at the information that filled the computer screen. “Yes. It looks like she got a new prescription for Topamax a couple of weeks ago.”
“Can you tell me if she’d ever gotten that particular medication here before?”
When Clarissa scanned down the list, her heart froze in her chest. “No. It appears this was the first time.”
The man nodded knowingly. “That’s what I thought. Before that, she had been getting Toprol XL, is that correct?”
Clarissa’s stomach flopped. “Yes.” She swallowed and looked at the initials on the screen. CR. She had no memory of this particular prescription, but then she’d filled several hundred since then. She couldn’t remember all of them.
“Can you tell me, Miss Richardson, was this prescription called in or written by the doctor?”
“Let me get the file.” Clarissa slowly began to thumb through the prescriptions. Please be written, please be written.
She got to the appropriate number and pulled it from the file. When her fingers first closed around the piece of paper, she almost cried with relief when she realized that it was written on printed blanks from the doctor’s office. It would be the doctor’s fault, not hers. “It was written by the doctor . . .” The words died on her lips. The writing was scratchy and not easily read. But, it was clear enough for her to know what had been written.
ToprolX1 25 1qd
She handed the piece of paper to the inspector, who looked at it and nodded. “Miss Richardson, do you understand the potential problems that would be suffered by a patient on Toprol XL who suddenly stopped taking her medication—or in this case started taking Topamax instead?”
Clarissa’s throat went dry. “I, uh, I . . .” She fought for words, any words. “The names are so similar.”
“Too similar, unfortunately. This is not the first time I’ve seen this mix-up.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”
After he walked away, Dawn came to stand beside Clarissa. “Isn’t Toprol some kind of heart medicine?” “Yes.”
“I think I heard someone say that Mrs. Vaerge had a heart attack.”
“A heart attack?” Clarissa’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “Did you hear how she is doing?”
“Don’t know. I think they airlifted her to Mercy Hospital yesterday afternoon.”
Clarissa looked at the light fixtures in the wall, the tiny rows of supplies she so carefully designed, and realized, whether or not she wanted to, she was about to lose it all.
Dawn broke out in a cold sweat. She could still remember the paisley top Mrs. Vaerge had been wearing the day she came in, remembered Mrs. Vaerge asking for Paige—but Paige hadn’t been there because she’d just been fired. She remembered squinting at the writing, the large “X” at the end finally helping her to see it as Topamax. She remembered counting, pouring, handing the bag to Mrs. Vaerge—all while Clarissa was taking a quick lunch break.
She had left everything on the counter for Clarissa to double-check when she came back. Did Clarissa check it?
Clarissa said, “I think it’s important that we let Gary Powell know that sometimes Paige and I worked under each other’s initials in the computer, that this might very well have been her mistake.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, like I would log on, and Paige would come in and fill prescriptions before she realized that she wasn’t under her own code. The computer trail doesn’t necessarily truly show who filled the prescription.”
“That is a lie and you know it. I remember this prescription, because I remember Mrs. Vaerge coming in here and asking for Paige the very day your grandfather fired her.”
“I’m just saying, it seems as though Paige might have worked for an hour or two before my grandfather fired her that day. Maybe she did fill this. I’m not blaming her, saying that she did it, I’m just saying there’s no way to know for sure.”
“I know. Like I said, I remember this one. As I recall, you were in the coffee shop at the time. Maybe it’s time to tell the truth. For once.”
“I think you’re forgetting about who it was that found you languishing in a part-time job. Who entrusted you with the work in here. I mean, if we don’t let Paige share at least the possibility of some of the blame, a lot more will fall on you. You don’t want that, do you?”
“Maybe I was given responsibility I shouldn’t have had.”
Clarissa rolled her eyes. “This mistake you made could just as easily have been made by a pharmacist. The doctor’s handwriting was atrocious, the drug names are too similar. The inspector himself said this is not the first time he’s seen this mistake.” Clarissa flipped her hair and looked toward the front of the pharmacy as if to verify that the inspector wasn’t back. “It’s the FDA’s fault for approving such similar names, that’s whose fault it is. Since they’re not going to take the rap for this, all I’m asking is that we share a little of the weight with Paige. This store has been doing pretty well financially. I was planning to give out bonuses sometime before the holidays. Probably a few thousand dollars. I’m sure you don’t want to do anything that would jeopardize my ability to do that, now do you?”
Dawn stared at the woman talking to her, seeing her more clearly than she ever had. The depths she’d sink to to get her way. But, then again, she thought of her own life with Jack—trapped and hopeless. Unless . . .
With a few thousand dollars free and clear—money that Jack didn’t even know about—she could get her own place. Leave him for good. Finally she could be free. But could she trust the spoiled little rich girl to keep her word?
If Clarissa wanted to play this game, she was going to do it right. “Well, it’s just that I’m having some financial problems now, and Christmas is a long way away.” Dawn looked her full in the face, allowing the dare to shine through her eyes.
Clarissa arched a single eyebrow and tilted her head. “My, my. Aren’t you the crass little thing?”
Dawn shrugged. “Promises don’t mean much to me, but three thousand dollars would mean a lot.”
Gary Powell came back into the store, dropping his cell phone into his coat pocket as he walked.
Clarissa whispered under her breath. “Okay. Three thousand. But you have to tell him exactly what I told you to say if he asks any questions.”
Dawn looked her straight in the eye. “I want my money by the end of the week.”
“Okay.” Clarissa started to walk away.
Before she got out of hearing distance, Dawn whispered, “Cash.”
Clarissa did not respond in any apparent way, but the slight dip of her chin told Dawn that she’d been heard loud and clear.
Gary Powell walked up to Clarissa. “I know it’s your closing time. I’ve just got a few questions, then I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” He didn’t look any happier about this than Clarissa did.
“But why?” Clarissa’s voice squeaked, and she coughed in what Dawn knew was an effort to cover it up. “You said yourself it’s an easy mistake to make.”
He nodded. “Since your pharmacy is currently undergoing legal action because of another dispensing error, we’re going to be a little extra vigilant this time.”