Chapter 12 An Old Flame? #4
Greg settled into the passenger seat while Erica started the car.
The interior immediately came alive with soft ambient lighting across the dashboard as the digital display illuminated the cabin in pale blue tones.
Erica checked her mirrors as she shifted the car into reverse to back out of the parking spot.
“Good afternoon, Miss Erica,” a calm British female voice greeted through the speakers. “ what destination should I set?”
“Greg’s house, Ashley,” Erica replied while shifting the car into drive and starting to move forward through the parking lot toward the Johnson Drive stoplight on the east side of the shopping center.
“Route confirmed. Starting your navigation. Will there be anything more?” Ashley asked politely.
“Please stand by Ashley. I need to think for a moment.”
“Very well Miss Erica. I will be in standby. Let me know when you need me again,” Ashley said softly.
“So prim and proper,” Erica complained.
Greg glanced toward the dashboard with mild amusement as Erica carefully made the left onto Johnson Drive. “Your father still insists on the British AI voice?”
“He claims intelligence sounds more trustworthy with an English accent,” Erica replied dryly.
“That sounds exactly like your father.”
“It is exactly like my father.” The car maneuvered smoothly eastward on Johnson Drive while traffic drifted around them beneath the light gray midday sky.
Erica remained unusually quiet for several moments, fingers lightly gripping the steering wheel while Greg watched the passing storefronts outside the passenger window.
“I don’t know how to begin,” she said, continuing to think about what she had to tell Greg.
She merged onto the Shawnee Mission Parkway East, being careful to watch her speed as the police were out in force.
Finally Erica exhaled slowly through her nose.
“Ashley,” she said carefully, “load the concealed surveillance footage from Research Archive Delta-Seven.”
“Loading file now,” Ashley responded. “It will appear on the HUD.”
A transparent projection framework immediately began materializing across the lower portion of the windshield display as digital loading symbols moved silently across the glass.
The video started playing. At that exact moment Greg’s phone vibrated.
He glanced down automatically. He opened the text message: ‘Greg, we’re back in town on Wednesday.
Dinner at my place — 6 PM — don’t be late.
— Veronica.’ Greg allowed the message to sink in for a moment before a faint smile touched the corner of his mouth.
Erica noticed instantly, glancing down at the phone.
“Veronica?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Greg admitted while locking the phone again. “Dinner Wednesday.”
Erica gave a small nod and looked back toward the road. “She seems very certain about what she wants.”
“That makes one of us,” Greg muttered softly.
“Your video has completed,” Ashley announced.
“Greg!” Erica said firmly. “We missed the video. Ashley, please restart the video for us,” Erica said with slight frustration in her voice.
“Your video is ready Miss Erica,” Ashley announced calmly. The windshield display flickered fully to life. “Starting replay now.”
Grainy black-and-white footage appeared from a hidden upper corner angle inside a secured pharmacy storage room. Greg’s attention shifted forward immediately as the hooded figure entered the frame. He peered closely, trying to distinguish what was there.
“What am I looking at?” he asked.
Erica’s expression tightened noticeably now. “About three months ago, Dad authorized hidden cameras inside our pharmacy distribution site. He was concerned about another workers compensation claim. What you are seeing is connected to the Lance Marsden shipments.”
Greg leaned forward slightly. “And?”
“And someone’s been accessing the deliveries without authorization.”
The figure in the footage moved directly toward a refrigerated storage container before unlocking it. He removed several vials, replacing them with another set of vials similar in size and shape. Greg’s eyes narrowed.
“No,” he said quietly. “Rewind fifteen seconds and replay.”
The individual had carefully removed several sealed medication vials, examined them briefly beneath the overhead light, then replaced them with visually identical containers from inside a black insulated case. Greg stared at the projection in silence. “Pause playback,” Erica directed
“Playback paused,” Ashley replied. “Standing by.”
“What medication is that?” he asked, though part of him already knew.
Erica swallowed once before answering. She slowed for the light at Stateline road, coming to a stop.
She looked directly at Greg. “Your experimental pain medication developed with Dr. Sanderson.” She checked the traffic and pulled out into an opening, heading south on Stateline Road. “Resume playback, Ashley.”
“Resuming playback,” Ashley replied.
The footage continued silently playing across the windshield while traffic moved steadily around them outside. Greg slowly leaned back into the seat before he ran his hand through his hair. “Hold Image, Ashley.”
“Holding Image,” Ashley responded politely.
“They tampered with it?” Greg asked disbelievingly.
“We believe so,” Erica cautiously replied.
“Believe?” Greg asked, stung slightly.
“We’re still running full chemical verification,” Erica replied carefully. “But somebody gained access to the pharmacy without internal approvals, Greg. Whoever this is knew exactly where the shipments were stored and when nobody would be watching.” She paused for a moment. “This bothers me too.”
Greg’s jaw tightened slightly as he continued staring forward at the frozen image on the display. “And you’re only now telling me this?”
“Steven suspected something was happening but I wanted proof before I brought it to you,” Erica solemnly replied.
“That’s not exactly comforting,” Greg said with exasperation.
“No,” Erica admitted quietly. “It shouldn’t be.” She took a deep breath. “Nurse Tilde is how we knew where to start looking,” she confirmed. “She’s been working with Doctors Swanson and Michaels,,”
“Mr. and Mrs. Doctor Darren Michaels,” Greg corrected.
“Right. Doctors Michaels, and with Nurse Greta. But that’s not the worst of it.
” Erica turned left onto the side road leading to Greg’s house.
“I don’t want to try to explain anything more in the car.
” She signaled and turned into Greg’s driveway.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to finish this conversation inside. ”
“We’re already here,” he said. “Pull up to the front door, please.”
“Sure, Greg. Please,” she said as she pulled up to a stop. “Don’t be angry with me Greg. It bothers me a lot that someone has been using our medical center to move opioids in the Midwest.”
“I understand, Erica. More than you might know,” he replied gently. “Look,” he began slowly. “You’ve just given me a lot of new information to process, so let’s just take our time to go over all this.”
“Okay,” she said slowly letting her breath out. “It’s just that pulling in here brings back so many memories.”
“It kind of does, Erica. Most of them were good memories.” He paused and looked at her.
“We don’t need to go back to the bad ones.
Let’s just focus on the task at hand.” He opened the door.
“Come on in and we’ll analyze this some more.
Let’s see what we can discover when we work together.
” He got out, closing the door and headed to the house.
Erica stepped out of the vehicle and paused, just looking at the door.
“I’ve still got your chardonnay,” he called.
“Now, that’s something I can handle,” she said, moving toward the door.
‘Don’t break down now, Erica. He’s opening up and things are working right now.
Just pluck up the courage to head on in.
It’s only the site of your greatest failure.
’ She took a breath. “I definitely could use that glass of chardonnay, Greg.”
Greg unlocked the front door and pushed it inward, stepping inside to disarm the alarm. He moved aside for Erica to enter. Warm afternoon light filtered through the front windows across the plush carpet floor while the quiet stillness of the house settled around them.
“Home sweet home,” Greg said lightly as he stepped out from behind her. “I’ll grab the chardonnay.” Erica barely heard him.
The moment she crossed that threshold, her eyes locked on the far side of the hallway, just past the stairwell.
That spot. Just outside the bedroom door.
The exact place where she had stood just over a year ago, no tears in her eyes, just anger covering fear she hadn’t known how to admit.
‘If you go to Denver, I won’t be here when you get back,’ echoed within her mind.
Her chest tightened instantly. She stood nearly frozen, watching it all happening again: Greg standing here in the hallway, beside the door, travel bag already packed, answering the call from Denny.
His calm rationale trying to explain why the Denver emergency trip mattered.
She’d stood there in that spot, arms folded defensively, voice sharp, certain he would choose her if she forced the decision.
She had been so absolutely sure. Instead he had gone to Denver, exactly as David had asked him.
Then she saw as he turned and walked out, the door closing behind him, enraging her within.
‘How can he always choose David over me?’ she’d thought at that point.
And when he returned, she was gone. Erica had stopped walking entirely.