“So you altered the count again.”
“What else could I do?”
“How about talk to me?” Victoria asked, her anger evident. “Warn me the count was off so I wasn’t completely blindsided.”
“I’m sorry. I screwed up.”
“How did you wind up with the other two?” Victoria asked without acknowledging Roxie’s apology.
“More of the same. I was rushing. Then they got misplaced.”
“You misplaced three doses of Demerol?”
“No.” Roxie shook her head. “Only two.” Like that made it okay. “The third,” she went on, “was my mistake. I’d thought it was a normal saline in my pocket, but it turned out to be a Demerol.”
“What is going on with you?” Victoria yelled.
Roxie shrugged and looked down at her lap.
Both women sat in silence until Roxie asked, “What happens now? Should I finish my shift or clean out my locker and head home?”
“Let me talk to the director and explain what happened. You returned the missing meds. Maybe …”
Fig interrupted. “Just to play devil’s advocate for a second.” He moved out of Roxie’s reach, which was no small feat in the tiny office. “How do we know there’s actual Demerol in those things and she didn’t refill them with water?”
Rage flared in Roxie’s eyes. She jumped up from her chair, whipped a plastic contraption from her pocket and grabbed the fluid-filled cartridges from Victoria’s desk. “How about I inject all three of them into your lily-white gluteus maximus and you can vouch for their potency right before you lapse into a coma?” She inserted one of the cylinders into the injection device and took a step toward him.
“Stop it, Roxie.” Tiny Victoria launched herself between them. “This isn’t helping.”
“But maybe it will make me feel better,” she said. Then she looked at Fig. Challenging him. “You want to know for sure what’s in this syringe?” She held it up, speaking slow and calm. “Drop your pants.”
“The hospital is investigating medication tampering.” Fig held Roxie’s arms to keep her away from him. “Those cartridges left the hospital. I’m just posing the potential for substitution that any good investigator would acknowledge,” he defended his question.
“He’s right,” Victoria agreed.
Roxie backed down and surprised him by starting to laugh. Not a happy laugh. Rather the kind of laugh that happens when things are so bad if you don’t laugh you’ll cry. He knew it well.
Roxie collapsed into the chair, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The irony is too much.” She could barely get the words out. “I tell that idiot no.” She took a deep breath, blotted her eyes with a tissue Victoria handed her and started to laugh some more. “I get blackmailed. I still say no, so he posts the video on some porn site.” She laughed even harder. “And I’m accused of tampering with narcotics, and I’m getting fired, anyway.” The laughing was so loud people up and down the hallway outside had to be wondering what was going on.
“Wait a minute,” Fig said, remembering Roxie’s phone conversation from earlier that morning. I told you no. My answer won’t change. Fine. Do what you have to do. “Someone’s blackmailing you?”
“Not anymore.” The thought seemed to sober her. She inhaled deeply then exhaled as if trying to blow out any lingering giggles. “And it’s all your fault.” She gave him the stink eye.
What? “My fault?”
“If you’d have taken me out on Friday night like you were supposed to, I wouldn’t have gone home with Johnny-the-jerk, who, come to find out, had his bedroom outfitted with cameras so he could videotape our little interlude.”
“Who is Johnny-the-jerk?” Victoria asked.
“I’m guessing he’s somehow involved with the hospital’s drug tampering problem because after the deed was done—” she looked at Fig and emphasized “—twice, he used his tape to try to coerce me into substituting his bootlegged pills for real narcotics. He said the packaging was almost identical and no one would know. I told him I would know and I wouldn’t do it.”
“You mean you can identify him?” Victoria asked.
“I’m guessing you can, too, if you check out our video.”
Victoria recoiled.
At least Fig could help with that. Computers were his thing. Audio. Video. Programing. Networking. Hacking. You name it. If there’s a way to track this guy, to catch him and make him pay, Fig could do it. “Do you have the link?” he asked Roxie.
“On my cell phone, wherever that is.”
Fig reached into his pocket and handed it to her. She pressed a few buttons and held up the screen to him. “May I use your computer?” he asked Victoria.
“To go to a pornography website?” She paled. “Use my laptop.” She took it out of her briefcase, placed it on her desk and booted it up. Then she stood so Fig could take her chair.
He typed in the link. A few seconds later Roxie’s voice called out through the speakers. “Harder,” she demanded. Fig fumbled to find the volume. “Yeah, baby. That’s how I like it.”
Just as he’d thought, Roxie was as take-charge in the bedroom as she appeared to be in every other aspect of her life. It’d take a strong man to stay in control. Anticipation of the challenge excited him.
Until the slam of Victoria’s office door reminded him where he was.
“Do you have to be so loud?” Victoria chastised Roxie.
Fig didn’t mind loud as long as the volume was attached to moans and screams of delight.
“Did you honestly think I’d be quiet in the bedroom?” she asked with a hint of a playful smile.
Fig muted the computer. “Twenty-seven minutes,” he commented about the length of the video, giving a nod of approval.
“Not my best night,” Roxie joked.
Fig relaxed a bit.
“Almost eighty thousand views in the six hours your video’s been up on this site.”
“Delinquents, all of them,” Roxie said, standing up and walking over to stand beside him. “What are all those people doing home during the day? Shouldn’t they be working?”
“Degenerates is more like it,” Victoria said, looking uncomfortable. “Can you make out the man’s face?” she asked Fig.
“Five stars,” he noted instead, impressed.
“I bet you’re regretting standing me up on Friday night.” Roxie nudged his shoulder with her hip.
More than he regretted just about anything else.
“Standing her up? You didn’t tell her what happened?” Victoria asked.
“No.” And Victoria had better not say anything, either.
“Tell me what?” Roxie asked.
The last thing he wanted her thinking was he was some sort of pansy mama’s boy, running home every time she called. “Nothing,” Fig said and flashed Victoria a “keep quiet” look.
“But …”
“Woo wee,” Roxie cut Victoria off. She leaned in close to the laptop. “I look good on screen.”
Yes, she did. And since she didn’t seem at all upset about the video, Fig commented, too. “You have an amazing ass.”