Page 83 of Tough Justice

“Of course I’m sure. Why would you ask such a thing? The man had a history of arrythmia. Sometimes, it just happens.”

“Did you give him anything?” Either way, there was nothing in the chart.

“No, dammit!” His voice rose. “What is this, an inquisition?”

Arrythmias could have been why he was taking potassium chloride, but there were still too many unanswered questions. “What did he mean when he said you nearly killed him in Sheridan?”

“I have no idea.” Wil dumped the remains of his cup into the sink. “He was getting worked up, and I think he mistook us for someone else.”

“Wil.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Is it possible Ethan missed something? The ME’s office will ask questions. Given the patient’s age and relatively good health, they’ll send an investigator to look into his death. As Ethan’s attending, you could both be liable. I only want to help you. You know how things like this can spiral downhill quickly.”

“I do, but if you keep making noise about it, you’ll only call attention to it. So let it go.” He brushed past, leaving her alone in the lounge.

She stared after him, her mouth agape as she wondered what to do next. This was beyond weird. Despite his adamant statement to the contrary, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Accidentally or unintentionally? Accidentally, of course. Neither Wil nor Ethan would intentionally hurt anyone. They were doctors, for chrissake.

For several seconds, she stared at the door to the locker room then blew out a breath. She couldn’t believe what she was about to do.

She pushed open the door to the locker room. Just to be sure, she checked the bathroom stalls, verifying they were indeed unoccupied. Using the small wood wedge to hold the door open, she toed it between the door and the frame, just enough so that she could hear if anyone came into the lounge. Or if Wil came back.

A blue lock hung from Wil’s locker, the same one that was always there. The same one I may still have the combination to. Unless he’d changed it.

Last year, he’d forgotten his phone in the locker and asked her to get it for him. He lived in one of the condos near Green Mountain and on her direct route home. So he’d given her the combo. She’d been doing rounds when he’d called, so she’d entered the combo into his contact page on her phone.

She rolled her eyes. And here I am, breaking into his locker. Some friend I am.

Tori opened up Wil’s contact page. For a moment, she stared at the combination then began adjusting the numbered dials with her thumb and forefinger. She closed her eyes, biting her lip before tugging down to see if it opened. She didn’t know if she wanted it to. It did, the clicking sound echoing within the narrow confines of the locker room.

Tori jerked her head to the door, peering through the crack. The lounge was still empty. She unhooked the lock and pulled open the locker. Wil’s stained coat hung on a hook, still dripping coffee-tinged water onto the floor of the locker. She took the coat out, praying she was wrong about this. She looked inside the right-side pocket, the same one he’d put his hand into.

Empty.

“Thank you,” she whispered to herself. Maybe she should trust Wil and just let it go. Then again, he could have tossed the syringe into the sharps container. The fact that his pocket was empty didn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t administered an injection.

She rehung the jacket inside the locker. Something thunked against the metal side. She pulled on the jacket enough to peer into the other pocket.

A medicine vial.

She reached for the tiny bottle, turning it in her hand. When she read the label, her blood went as cold as dry ice.

Potassium chloride.

The bottle was nearly empty. Only a few drops remained. If Ethan had given Sanchez too much potassium chloride…it could have been what killed the man. Or, as Wil said, it could have just happened. She’d been an ER doctor long enough to know unexpected things did “just happen.”

She wrapped her fingers tightly around the vial. There had to be an explanation. Sanchez wasn’t the only patient Ethan had seen tonight. It was possible the potassium chloride was unrelated to Sanchez, and who knew how long the vial had been in Wil’s pocket? Sure, all the med vials were periodically counted and audited, but he could have forgotten it was in there.

She had to talk to Wil again. But how to do that without letting on that she’d broken into his locker? She couldn’t undo what was already done.

Tori stuffed the vial into her own coat pocket then closed the door and reinserted the lock. Before stepping back into the lounge, she again peered through the crack, verifying no one else was there.

For a long moment, she stood there, thinking about the similarities between her relationships with Wil and Deck. What she was about to do would most likely kill her friendship with Wil. After losing Deck the way she had, this hit home just as hard. There were elements of trust involved with both situations, though her problems with Deck were more complicated than that. If she was wrong about this, Wil would never trust her again. At least one day, Deck would figure out she hadn’t betrayed him to a drug dealer.

She pulled the door open and headed into the lounge. She hadn’t told a—

Soul, she’d been about to think to herself then froze in mid-step.

She had told someone.

While she probably shouldn’t have, she and Wil had discussed the warrant briefly. That had been after the fact, though. But right before Deck had picked her up to go to Loveland, Wil had called. It had been such a quick call she’d completely forgotten about it. She’d told him she had to cancel their dinner plans because she was going somewhere with Deck. On a warrant. In Loveland.