Page 96 of Tough Justice

He’s hiding something. Deck was sure of it.

What if Sanchez was one of Barnett’s first test subjects, but Sanchez’s reaction was so severe that Barnett realized he couldn’t disguise his cocktail as an allergy shot and keep getting away with it?

They wouldn’t know until the autopsy what Barnett had injected into Sanchez at North Metro. As for what he gave Sanchez here in the prison, Deck would bet his left nut it was gray death. Or something like it.

“Can you pull up a record of all the inmates Barnett saw here?”

Shuren frowned. “I thought the problem was with Sanchez, not Dr. Barnett.”

“It is.” A half truth. “And if you’re worried about violating HIPAA law, may I remind you that the law allows correctional facilities to disseminate protected health information to a law enforcement officer for the purpose of preventing a serious and imminent threat to the health and safety of the public which, I’m telling you, this is.”

Shuren hesitated a moment longer then started clicking away on his keyboard. “Here’s the list. It’s broken down by inmate, date, reason for examination, diagnosis, and treatment, if any.” He swiveled the monitor so Deck could look at it.

Over the last sixteen months, Barnett saw nearly fifty patients for a multitude of reasons running the gamut from headaches, allergy shots, and diarrhea, to broken bones and knife wounds. And four of the inmates seen by Barnett were deceased, cause of death: opioid overdose.

Deck took a minute to compare all the death dates to the dates that Barnett was on call at the prison. Two died on the same day they’d come in to see Barnett. The other two had overdosed on days Barnett wasn’t even there. If Barnett really was using the prison as his own personal test laboratory, he’d be smart enough not to leave an obvious trail of bread crumbs.

Now to uncover the hidden trail.

“You said there was a time last year that Sheridan experienced an unusual number of overdoses.” Deck knew that would get Shuren riled up, and it did. The doctor began squirming in his chair like a kid who knew he’s in trouble and was about to get reamed out. “How many were there, exactly?”

“Uh.” Shuren cleared his throat. “Nine.”

“And four of them died,” Deck reminded. “Isn’t that a lot of deaths and overdoses for one prison in a year?”

Shuren sat back and crossed his arms. “Well, yes. But you know as well as I do that inmates have their own economy inside a prison, just like on the outside world. No matter how efficient our security, all kinds of goods, including drugs, are smuggled in here all the time. Whatever it was must have been extremely potent.”

“Did you report all these overdoses and deaths?” Deck already knew he hadn’t. When nine inmates in a federal prison OD’d, the DEA should have been notified and an external investigation would have kicked off. Deck wasn’t aware of that having happened. Whenever an inmate died for any reason, a death review was initiated.

“No.” Shuren scoffed. “As I said, drugs get smuggled in here all the time. We can’t stop it. We figure a bad batch made its way inside, something stronger than heroin. The average user isn’t accustomed to such potency, so they take more than they need to get the high they’re used to.”

“I know how it works, Doc.” He fisted his hand, crumpling a corner of the manila folder in his lap.

“Scroll to the next page,” he ordered Shuren.

The doctor made a disgruntled sound. “Agent Decker, I think we’re at the point where I need DEA authorization in writing for this inquiry.”

“Think again, Dr. Shuren.” He leaned forward, smacking the folder on the desk and taking pleasure in seeing the man flinch. “This prison is within federal jurisdiction. These ODs and deaths should have been reported, and you know it. I suggest you tell me everything I want to know. There’ll be an internal and external investigation. You may not survive it.” Fear emanated from the man’s eyes, and Deck knew he had him. “Keep scrolling. I want to see the entire list of inmates Barnett treated.”

He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for at this point, but all the circumstantial evidence in the world wouldn’t get him an arrest warrant. If there was something else in the records he could actually use, he couldn’t leave any stone unturned.

Shuren took a deep breath then loosened his tie. Deck sensed the man was about to crap his pants. He used the mouse to keep scrolling. More inmate names populated the page.

“Stop!” Deck stared at one of the names that had popped up.

Timothy Lomax aka T-Lo had not only been incarcerated at FCI Sheridan, but he’d been treated by Dr. W. Barnett on multiple occasions. Allergy shots, headaches, a stubbed toe. Stubbed toe my ass.

Deck counted all the entries. In all, T-Lo had been to the health unit more than fifteen times over a twelve-month period and only on days when Barnett was there.

Working quickly in his head, Deck ran backward through the timeline.

The first date T-Lo had seen Barnett had been only a few days after Barnett gave Sanchez the suspect allergy shot. Each of the nine inmates who overdosed did so only after T-Lo began coming into the health unit.

More pieces of the puzzle fell into place, but it was still only circumstantial.

Barnett could have struck a deal with T-Lo to distribute gray death to inmates who were only too happy to receive the free high that came with it. That way, the source of the drug could never be traced directly back to Barnett, but he’d still be close by to monitor the drug’s effects and perfect his dosage as needed.

Deck already knew T-Lo had been released from prison four months ago, plenty of time to reactivate his outside distribution network.