Chapter 10
“Whitney wasn’t my patient,” Dr. Carlson said. “Diesel was. I didn’t discuss Whitney’s personal life with her during visits.”
“What did you discuss?”
"We discussed the health and well-being of Diesel.”
I gave him a doubtful look. "Never anything more?”
Dr. Carlson's eyes narrowed at me. "What exactly are you getting at?"
"She was an attractive woman,” I said.
"Whitney was indeed. But I'm a happily married man. I would never violate my marriage or a patient's trust like that.”
"But you’d prescribe her pain and anti-anxiety medicine.”
"I prescribed those for her dog," he said in a clear voice. “If that's all, gentlemen, I have patients I need to attend to." Dr. Carlson stood up. That was our cue to leave.
I wasn't done just yet. "Did you ever see Whitney outside of the office?”
His face grew tight. "It’s a small island. I bumped into Whitney from time to time.”
"I bet you did," Jack muttered.
Carlson shot him a look. "What are you implying, Deputy?"
Jack shrugged.
"Did you ever visit Whitney at her house?" I asked.
Dr. Carlson shifted, and his face tensed. "From time to time, I will make a house call in emergency situations."
"Was there ever an emergency at the Hollingsworth residence?"
He breathed in deep through his nostrils, growing agitated. "I don't recall the circumstance, but I believe I have been to the residence once or twice before." Dr. Carlson's brow wrinkled. "I'm sorry, but do you suspect some kind of foul play?"
I smiled. "Just trying to get a sense of the bigger picture. That's all."
"I can assure you, gentlemen, I have done nothing wrong. I have violated no professional ethics. My relationship with Whitney was entirely professional."
"As you mentioned, she wasn't your patient. Diesel is."
He gave me an annoyed look. "If you’ve got any more questions, get in touch with my attorney." Carlson moved toward the door and held it open for us.
We walked back down the hallway and stepped into the waiting area. Chauncey’s owner smiled at Jack, and he smiled back, possibilities in the air. The ginormous rock on her finger cautioned against that idea. That was a line JD wouldn’t cross.
As soon as we stepped into the outside hallway, Jack muttered, "He was definitely banging her.”
“Nothing illegal about that,” I said.
“The Florida Board of Veterinary Medicine might take a disapproving view.”
“They might not like his prescribing habits either. But it seems he’s managed to cover his ass.”
“Walking a fine line,” JD said.
We left the professional building, returned to the Avventura, then met the guys at the practice studio. Wild Fury jammed for an hour, then we hit happy hour at Volcanic. Somehow, happy hour lasted until 2:00 AM. There was a small gathering on the boat afterward.
A good time was had by all.
Brenda called bright and early the next morning.
I grabbed the phone from the nightstand, swiped the screen, and scratched out, “What have you got?”
“Tox report came back. Pretty much as expected. Xanax, Oxy, alcohol, cocaine, an anti-histamine, and an anti-depressant. The combination resulted in central nervous system depression. I see nothing to indicate foul play, other than the irresponsible prescribing habits of her veterinarian.”
"Thanks. Good to know.”
I ended the call, pulled myself out of bed, and made my way down to the galley to fix breakfast. I flicked on the TV and watched the morning news. “Now to our very own Erin West with the latest weather,” the news desk anchor said. “She has some surprising developments.”
The camera cut to a shot of the gorgeous brunette standing in front of a map of Florida.
Nobody watched for Erin’s accuracy. They watched for that tight little red dress she wore.
"We may be in for some unseasonably cool weather. Conditions are forming for a cold snap. It may just be time to break out a winter coat.” She smiled.
“We could see it get as low as 50 degrees soon. I can confidently say there will be no white Christmas in the Keys this year, but we might have some unseasonably cool temperatures to put us in the Christmas spirit. I’ll be keeping a watch on this Arctic high-pressure zone, so be sure to stay tuned.
” Erin finished with a smile, and the camera cut back to the desk anchor.
“I think a little cold weather might be nice,” the anchor said. “Thanks, Erin. In other news…”
Applewood bacon sizzled in the pan. I scrambled eggs, made hash browns, and made avocado toast. The smell of fresh coffee swirled.
Jack dragged himself out of bed with tousled hair and bleary eyes to join me for breakfast. We chowed on the sky deck, taking in the warm amber rays. If the forecast was right, this wouldn’t last long.
My phone buzzed with a call from the sheriff. “Get your asses in gear. We’ve got another dead body.”