Chapter 6 - The Pharmacy Receipt
The receipt was from Morgan Pharmacy.
A small independent business twelve miles from our house.
According to the record, I had picked up the prescription nine days before our anniversary.
Cash payment.
No insurance.
Signature at collection.
I stared at the scanned image.
The signature looked like mine.
Almost.
Just like the insurance paperwork.
“I didn’t buy this.”
Detective Ortiz nodded.
“We believe you.”
“Then why is my name there?”
“Someone had your date of birth.”
“That isn’t difficult to find.”
“And identification.”
That was harder.
“What identification?”
“A copy of your driver’s license.”
My blood ran cold.
I kept my license in my wallet.
But Derek had access to years of financial files, mortgage records, travel documents and scanned identification.
“Security cameras?”
“Already requested.”
The pharmacy owner had preserved footage.
At 4:17 p.m. nine days before the anniversary, a woman entered wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.
She was roughly my height.
She presented a printed copy of my ID.
The camera never caught her face clearly.
But her car was visible.
A silver Lexus.
Registered to Paige Monroe.
When Detective Ortiz showed me, I refused to believe it at first.
“No.”
“We confirmed the plate.”
“Paige helped you.”
“Yes.”
“She gave you Derek’s messages.”
“Yes.”
“Then why would she buy the medication?”
“Maybe because helping us now doesn’t mean she wasn’t involved before.”
We brought Paige in.
She broke within fourteen minutes.
“I didn’t know.”
Her shoulders shook.
“I swear I didn’t know.”
Ortiz’s tone remained controlled.
“Then explain the pharmacy.”
Paige covered her face.
“Mr. Harlow asked me to pick something up.”
“Using Renee’s identity?”
“He said Renee was embarrassed.”
“About what?”
“He said it was medication related to pregnancy.”
My heart stopped.
Paige looked at me desperately.
“He told me you didn’t want anyone at the company knowing.”
“You impersonated me.”
“I thought I was helping.”
“You used my ID.”
“He gave me the copy.”
Detective Ortiz leaned forward.
“What happened to the medication?”
“I delivered it to him.”
“When?”
“The same afternoon.”
“Where?”
“His office.”
“Did you see what it was?”
“No. The bag was stapled.”
“Did he ever explain why a pregnancy medication required someone else’s cardiac prescription?”
Paige stared at her.
“No.”
Ortiz slid a photograph across the table.
The medication label.
Paige went white.
“That’s not what he told me.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That it was something to prevent complications.”
A lie layered over impersonation layered over secrecy.
Derek had used Paige because she followed instructions.
He had used my identity because it would point investigators toward me.
And if I had died after consuming the soup, the medication record might have suggested I had access to the very substance that killed me.
Perhaps an accidental overdose.
Perhaps suicide.
Perhaps confusion.
Any explanation except murder.
“He built alternatives,” I whispered.
Ortiz heard me.
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t need one perfect story. He just needed enough possible stories to create doubt.”
That afternoon, forensic auditors found another piece.
A confidential memo drafted by Derek but never sent.
SUBJECT: CONTINUITY PLAN IN EVENT OF RC MEDICAL LEAVE.
RC.
Renee Callahan.
The document reassigned my responsibilities.
Transferred signatory authority.
Moved oversight of three suspicious vendors away from compliance.
And was created six weeks before the anniversary.
Medical leave.
Not resignation.
Not divorce.
Medical leave.
He had expected something to happen to me.
But the auditors also discovered something Derek had not expected them to find.
One of those vendors had transferred $340,000 to Northwell Executive Health.
Northwell had provided something more than medical services.
It had provided information.
My phone records.
My pregnancy-related search activity.
And, somehow, a laboratory result I had never knowingly taken.
That was how Derek knew.
May you like
Someone had tested me.
Without my knowledge.
