Void (37 page)

I had just finished with my third appointment of the day when Laura Lee rang my intercom.

“Dr. Gunn?”

“Yes, Laura Lee?”

“Uh, there are several officers from the NYPD here to see you.”

Shit!

“I’ll be right there, Laura Lee.”

With unsteady legs, I walked out to reception to greet the two officers.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Andris Gunn. What can I do for you today?” I asked as I shook each of their hands in greeting.

“Is there some place where we could speak privately?” One of the officers asked. He was tall to where his partner was shorter. They both wore plain clothes and seemed to be in their mid to late forties.

“Of course. We can use my office. Follow me please. Laura Lee, hold all of my calls and please apologize to any patients that may come in and just tell them appointments are running behind.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

We all three made our way to my office. I couldn’t help the unease I felt as Nicola’s warning flashed freshly in my mind.

Be careful.

“Have a seat gentlemen. What can I do for you today?”

One of the officers reached for a pad of paper in the breast pocket of his jacket and a pen from the pocket in the front. They both flashed their badges to me to prove who they were.

“Dr. Gunn, do you know an Antonio Cardinelli?” The tall officer asked me as he poised his pen over the top of the pad of paper.

“Of course. Who hasn’t heard of him? His wife is a patient of mine.”

“Have you now, or have you ever, written any illegal prescriptions to Antonio Cardinelli?”

“What? No.”

And it was the truth
. I wasn’t lying to the officers. I hadn’t ever written any prescriptions to him per se, just his goons and his wife.”

“We are led to believe that either Cardinelli himself, his wife, or someone who works for him is obtaining your prescription pads and writing out forged prescriptions under your name. Several pharmacies around the area have reported an excess amount of narcotic subscriptions as well as other controlled drugs like those used for ADD and ADHD that looked to be written by you.”

“Are any of these your signatures?” The other officer asked as he handed me a stack of what looked like my prescription papers from my pad.

I sorted through the thirteen or so pieces of paper that all had my name on the header. Out of the thirteen, only three contained
my
actual signature.

“These three, yes. The others no.”

“Would you be willing to sign your name in front of a notary public to authenticate your signature?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Have you noticed any of your prescription pads missing?”

I thought back to the other day when I went to write the prescription for my patient Jacob, and I couldn’t find the pad in my drawer. I could have sworn that I had more in there, but my head had been in such a fucking fog since Nicola left me, that I couldn’t remember if I had used them all or not. I told the officers as such.

“If you could meet us downtown at the courthouse around two this afternoon, we can go ahead and get your signature authenticated. Do you have any idea who might have taken your prescription pads, Dr. Gunn?”

“No clue. I don’t allow patients to be in my office unattended. There is always myself, or another doctor present at all times. This goes for any of the other doctors as well. It is just a practice we have always stuck to. We have people who suffer from serious mental health issues. Leaving them unsupervised wouldn’t be a good thing.”

“Understood, Dr. Gunn. Here is my card. If you can think of anything, give us a call. We’ll see you downtown in a few hours.”

“Thank you,” I replied as I showed the officers out of the door to my office.

When I returned to my desk, I tried to think about who could have snuck into my office to get those prescription pads. I’ve never left anyone alone in my office before. No one.

No one except Nicola.

Fuck me.

I OFFICIALLY HATE FUNERALS. The only one I had attended prior to Kiki’s was my own parents. Then, I didn’t care. Then, I was all dark and empty and didn’t have a reaction as I sat stoically on the bench of that church as the preacher talked about what great friends, family, and parents they were.

Bullshit.

Kiki’s was different. The church was nearly vacant except for a few homeless people who came in to try and get out of the cold, me, Lexie, and a handful of the other girls from the agency. Kiki was always known for her snarky and bitchy attitude, so a majority of the girls didn’t take much of a liking to her.

Next to me Lexie was a mess, still blaming herself for Kiki’s death.

The preacher said a few words about Kiki, but who really wanted to get enthusiastic about celebrating the life of a drug addicted whore? Everyone one went about their business after the funeral and I headed to the café. I had picked up a shift from one of the girls who needed the evening off, and truth be told I needed to keep my mind busy.

I had been sick with worry ever since I had seen Andris a few days ago at the clinic. I was terrified that my actions, although intended to do good and protect him, were actually going to hurt him even more in the long run. There wasn’t anything I could do about Cardinelli, and I hadn’t heard from or seen him since I found out about Kiki’s death. I was pretty sure he was trying to lay low for all of this to blow over before he was back out on the streets, peddling to the next addict.

The café was slow for a Monday afternoon so I kept myself busy by refilling the salt and pepper shakers as well as replenishing the sugar and Splenda packets. I was mindlessly wiping off one of the tables when one of the three televisions in the café showed a breaking news report. I looked up and it caught my attention immediately, pausing me in my tracks. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

ANTONIO CARDINELLI INDICTED ON DRUG TRAFFICING CHARGES

My heart dropped. I threw the towel down on the table, knocking over an open salt shaker in the process and walked over to be closer to the TV. Reaching up, I adjusted the volume, just so that I could be certain that I could hear what I was seeing.

“The overdosing death of a woman late last week, who was positively identified as thirty-one year old Kiki Chestfield of New York City, prompted the instigation leading up to Cardinelli’s arrest. When investigators discovered that Chestfield had obtained the prescription pain killers in which sadly took her life, they followed a lead of information that led them to believe that Cardinelli had stolen prescription pads from his psychiatrist Dr. Andris Gunn and was then forging his signature to sell to buyers on the street. When pharmacists began receiving an influx of prescriptions from Dr. Gunn’s office, it led police to the clinic where they met with Dr. Gunn. His signature was verified for several of the written prescriptions, but the vast majority of them were written either by Cardinelli himself, or someone employed by him.

At this time, Dr. Gunn and the clinic will not receive any charges, but the investigation is still pending as to how Cardinelli obtained the prescription pads.

We’ll bring you more information as the story develops.”

My hands flew to my mouth as the breath caught in my chest. Cardinelli was caught. He was caught!

“They finally got thata bastard,” Letta said, coming up behind me as she wiped her hands with a towel.

I only nodded, shock apparently keeping me from finding my voice.

“Good. Maybe less drugs on street then. I sorry about your friend,” she said, referring to Kiki. Even though Kiki seemed to hold onto a lot of anger, I think she was just looking for someone to confide in. She obviously had other troubles that kept her from allowing people in, and I only wished that I could have offered her some comfort.

Things picked up at the café not long after so I didn’t have much time to dwell over the fact that Cardinelli was behind bars. My only fear now was that a full investigation would be launched against Andris and the clinic, then he could possibly go to jail as well. Even if his involvement with Cardinelli was inherited from his uncle.

Andris didn’t really commit any wrong doing. Did he write prescriptions to patients that didn’t need them? Yes. But how many other doctors in the world did that on a daily basis? Andris obviously was bothered by what he had to do, and if he had any say, I was sure he would have cut Cardinelli off completely.

I still struggled with the fact that Andris lied to me. I felt like I had been torn in two. I was still that one piece of paper that had been shredded down the middle, now I felt that the two pieces that were torn had now withered away. How does one get over not only one broken heart, but two?

My feet and back were aching by the time we got through our mid-afternoon rush of customers. I trudged through the pain to help the others get the diner cleaned up so that we could all take a break before the dinner rush was upon us. I was so busy sweeping up a pile of broken chips a child had spilled on the floor that I didn’t even hear the bell ring on the door.

I swept the chips into a dustpan and stood back up and turned around to locate the nearest trash can.

That is when I came face to face with Andris and the dustpan fell to the floor.

I HADN’T SEEN HER SINCE the day she came to the clinic to warn me. I wanted to go to Kiki’s funeral, not only to pay my respects, but just so that I could see her. But I didn’t want to give the police any ammunition to use not only against me, but to incriminate Nicola. I needed to lay low as much as I possibly could so that nothing could be dug up, and Cardinelli would stay behind bars for the rest of his life like he deserved.