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“Before you go rushing in, let me talk to him,” Jack offers. “See what I can find out.”
“Okay, fine,” I agree, “but I’m going with you.” Jack’s mouth forms a disapproving line, but he nods, looking resigned.
“But I’m doing the talking, okay? I know this guy. He will not care that Stella is your friend or that you’re willing to vouch for her character or whatever. Crime is black and white to him. There are zero gray areas.”
I give him a thumbs up, hoping it will hide my nerves. My own particular crime definitely falls in the gray category; meaning I’m not exactly excited to talk to this Detective Thorner person.
Even if he is from narcotics, not homicide.
“Thorner,” calls Jack as he strides across the foyer toward him. At the sound of his name, Detective Thorner looks our way, his face registering surprise at the sight of Jack.
“Reynolds,” he booms, “didn’t expect to see you here. Heard from Anderson that you weren’t working the Wharfman murder. Something about you getting married.” His eyes slide my way, and I squirm uncomfortably under his scrutiny, worried that he can somehow see my guilt.
“I’m not.” Jack shrugs his head to one shoulder. “Not officially, anyway. But seeing as Wharfman was my new wife’s boss, you can see how I might have a little bit of a vested interest in the murderer being found quickly.” He slides his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, hopefully just to appear casual and not because he knows about my weird lusting after his exposed thumbs thing. “Anyway,” he quickly breezes past what he’s doing there to focus back on Thorner’s presence, “how about you, though? What are you doing here?”
I sneak a glance at Stella. Her eyes are wide as saucers as she stares at Jack. Quite suddenly she turns those wide eyes on me, and I flinch at the accusation I see in them.
“He’s a cop,” she mouths at me. I nod then hang my head hoping she sees the apology I can’t verbalize with Thorner nearby. I didn’t think about how finding out Jack worked in law enforcement might feel like a betrayal to Stella. On the phone earlier she was really forthcoming about things like that photo she was saving for blackmail and joking about having drug samples for him if he needed them. She likely wouldn’t have said any of that if she’d known Jack was a detective. I mean, that’s why he didn’t tell her. He wanted the information she had. But not to use it against you, I want to cry. I don’t know why you’re being arrested, but it’s not our doing.
But of course I can’t say any of this to her at the moment.
“Coroner found a couple of sample pills in the dead guy’s pocket. Drug called Minoxidil.” Thorner eyes Stella. “Turns out this lady here knew something about those pills.”
“No, I didn’t!” Stella cries. “I just told you it’s a hair loss drug. I’ve passed out samples to some of the dermatologists in the area. That’s it. I did not give Ian those samples!”
Wait. Ian was taking a drug for hair loss? I’m shocked. But also…not shocked. It totally explains the sudden reappearance of his hair. It wasn’t plugs or a toupee. It was Minoxidil. How did I not think of that? After all, that’s a drug I give some of my doctors for use with their patients since–in addition to helping with hair loss–it’s also used to treat hypertension—a common ailment among the elderly.
Oh gosh. I have samples of that drug. Panic thrums in my chest. Is Thorner going to come after me next?
“And yet,” Thorner says dryly, “you can’t seem to offer us another explanation for how he got ahold of them.” He gives her a pointed look. “Need I remind you, Ms. Corbin, that handing out pharmaceutical drugs without a doctors’ prescription is a misdemeanor punishable by imprisonment and/or a hefty fine.”
“Need I remind you, Detective Thorner,” Stella retorts, “that I did not give Ian Wharfman those drugs!”
“Then who did?” he challenges.
Stella’s face falls. “I don’t know,” she admits at a whisper. She turns haunted eyes my way. “I didn’t do this, Nora. Tell him I didn’t do this.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” I tell Thorner. I’m still freaking out about the supply of Minoxidil currently in my office, but right now I need to put that aside and back up Stella. “Ian Wharfman had hair. And although he had that hair for the last couple of months—six months ago he didn’t have much hair at all. Those pills don’t work overnight. So he has to have been taking them for a while.”
“I see, so she’s been supplying him with pills for quite some time,” Thorners replies. “You do know you’re only helping build the case against her, right?”
“On the contrary,” I inform him, annoyed by his cocky attitude, “Stella has only been working the dermatology route for three months. She got switched over from pediatrics after our old dermatology rep switched specialties.”
I’m not sure why I’m calling attention to this. On a personal level, doing so is a very bad plan. But Stella is in handcuffs, and this is the only plan I’ve got.
“So,” Thorner shrugs, “maybe she simply took over for whoever it was that started trafficking a prescription drug to your boss.”
I lift my chin. “If Stella says she didn’t do this, I believe her.”
“That’s sweet,” Thorner says in a voice that suggests he finds it anything but. “Although I don’t actually remember asking for your opinion.”
“Okay, I think that’s enough, Thorner.” Jack steps between us, his voice hard. “You may not place much stock in my wife’s opinion, but I certainly do. I’d consider it a professional courtesy if you’d look into some of the things she mentioned that weaken your case against Stella.”
Thorner considers this for a minute. “Fine,” he says, dropping his hand from Stella’s elbow. “I can look into the old rep. Give me a name.”
Here’s the thing. I would love to give him a name. Really I would. Taking the heat off Stella sounds like a great plan. There’s just one problem: that old dermatology rep, well, it was me.
Chapter 21
