Murder Over Mochas

by Caroline Fardig

  Once everyone was settled, Julia said, “Okay, so my husband, Dillon, works for Greenway Pharmaceuticals, Silver Spruce’s main competitor in this area. They sell a lot of similar types of drugs, so they’ve historically had something of a rivalry. He told me the Silver Spruce reps have always had the reputation of being more aggressive than most. And, as a result, there are rumors that they go the extra mile, so to speak, to get the doctors to push their scripts.”

  I thought back to the text I got from Daniel earlier and sat up straighter. “You mean like giving kickbacks?” Maybe Scott was indeed on to something.

  “Yes. Kickbacks were a serious problem in the industry until a recent crackdown. Reps were giving out all sorts of things, including sexual favors. Now, aside from the drug samples themselves, the reps aren’t allowed to give out anything besides informational pamphlets. Not even cheap stuff like tissue boxes or mouse pads or anything. Dillon doesn’t think Silver Spruce is playing by the new rules.”

  I asked, “What kind of things did they used to give out?”

  “Personal gifts, like golf bags or expensive liquors. Laptops, office supplies. Sometimes medical supplies. Trips, pricey dinners. Prostitutes. Anything that might wow the doctors.”

  “Maybe designer ties, cuff links, and earrings?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Does your husband have proof that Silver Spruce is still giving out these freebies?” I had proof—or at least I knew where some proof was. Mandi’s work duffel bag was full of the no-longer-acceptable swag I’d named off.

  “Not technically. The doctors aren’t exactly complaining about getting free stuff, and of course none of the Silver Spruce employees are going to out themselves. A former receptionist for one of the doctors in town told Dillon she’s seen gifts exchange hands. But she was fired on bad terms, so we don’t know how credible she is. Also, there have been a few doctors who all of a sudden in the last few months won’t let Greenway reps in the door.”

  Shrugging, I said, “Maybe they’re tired of dealing with salespeople.”

  Julia frowned. “Dillon originally thought that might have been the case. But then he and his coworkers started seeing the doctors out partying with Silver Spruce reps, sporting new watches and ties. Then one of the doctors got caught with a hooker not too long ago. That one’s harder to link to Silver Spruce, but Dillon wouldn’t put it past them.”

  “Is that enough ammo for you to write an article?”

  All Julia seemed to have was conjecture. I was beginning to feel sorry for the Silver Spruce reps and the doctors, because I knew what a scathing article (true or not) in the Chronicle could do to a person’s business reputation in this town.

  She sighed. “No, but we were hoping you could help with that.”

  I groaned inwardly. I knew this was coming. “Me?”

  Furrowing her brow, Julia said, “If you’re investigating Scott’s death, surely you’ve talked with people at his work.”

  “I have,” was all I offered in reply.

  Lizzie jumped in, “Since you’re familiar with all the players and kind of working it from the opposite end—just like Blake, who’s writing an article on Mandi’s disappearance—we were hoping we could all help one another by pooling our resources.”

  I was pretty sure what she meant by that was pool our information.

  I said, “My biggest question is—why do you think the kickbacks have something to do with Scott O’Malley’s death and his wife’s disappearance?”

  Blake, who’d been surprisingly silent so far, chimed in. “Given the fact that this kickback thing seems to be gaining momentum and one of Silver Spruce’s employees dropped dead this week and his wife is missing, we think it makes sense that everything is connected.”

  They were seriously reaching with this, but they were quite possibly on to something. If I hadn’t heard about it from Daniel, I probably wouldn’t have given this conspiracy theory any merit whatsoever. But now that I had more pieces of the puzzle, it began to make sense.

  I blew out a breath, bracing myself to throw in with these guys. I was ready to do whatever needed to be done to solve this thing once and for all. “Okay. We can partner up.” As I glanced around the table at the three of them, all clearly excited to have finally won me over, I snapped, “But any information I share with you will not end up in an article until the investigation is over. We can’t show our hand here. Agreed?”

  All three of them nodded.

  “Also, my name will not appear anywhere in any article in your newspaper. My parents live in this town, and I will not stand for them having to field questions about my involvement in this. Are we clear?”

  They nodded again.

  Blake said, “Absolutely.” He gestured toward his wife. “She’s the same way. She took down a serial killer—at our wedding, no less—and wouldn’t let me use her name in the story.”

  Lizzie winked at me. “And if one of these boneheads forgets, I’ll take care of it in my copyedit.”

  I smiled. “Good enough. As far as I’m concerned, your idea about everything being connected has merit. Scott’s boss told me that Scott had threatened to ruin Silver Spruce, but he wouldn’t tell me why. I learned from a Silver Spruce employee that Scott had said he had evidence of the kickbacks some of the reps were supposedly giving out. Also, I might have happened to look inside the bag that Mandi uses for her drug samples and found some of that expensive swag you mentioned.”

  Julia brightened. “So it is true about the kickbacks. But how do we prove it? Do you have pictures?”

  I shook my head.

  Blake said, “What about the evidence O’Malley said he had? Did he tell you about it or did you run across anything in your investigation?”

  “No,” I replied. “And it’s possible that his ‘evidence’ is that he found the same stuff I saw in his wife’s bag. I happened to see inside his bag also, and all he had was the drugs and a couple of cheap giveaway pens, so I’m assuming he wasn’t in on the kickback scheme.”

  Nodding slowly, Blake said, “Right, because if he’d been in on it, he wouldn’t have been threatening Silver Spruce that he’d ruin them over it.”

  “Probably not. Now, I have no way of knowing whether this is related to anything we’ve been discussing, or if Scott was into another underhanded deal as well, but something he managed to tell me before he died was that he had taken something from some ‘dangerous people,’ as he called them.”

  “Was he talking about the drugs he stole?”

  “I don’t know. He said the people had threatened him more than once because of what he did. He came to me because he was convinced they’d kidnapped Mandi and would kill her if he went to the cops. However, the next day I found Mandi alive and well at home, saying she’d been on a business trip, insisting that Scott was going nuts from all the drugs he’d been taking. I’m not sure what to believe. But given the unusual circumstances—and the nagging feeling that Scott was murdered—I think we need to start digging into Silver Spruce and find out if this kickback thing is worth killing or kidnapping over.”

  Lizzie wrinkled her nose. “But if Mandi is in on it, why would she have been kidnapped or threatened?”

  Frowning, I replied, “See, that’s the piece that doesn’t fit for me. I don’t get Mandi’s involvement in this.”

  Julia said, “So we need to find Mandi.”

  “Even if we do, we may not get the truth out of her. I think we should start with finding out who’s giving kickbacks and who’s getting them.”

  Blake said, “Since you found Mandi’s swag stash, we can assume at least some of her customers are getting kickbacks.”

  “Yes, and since Mandi is still in training, can we also assume her trainer, Jared Fisher, is in on it, as well?” I asked.

  Nodding, Julia said, “If he’s training her, I suspect he’d have to be in on it, or at least have an inkling that something shady is going on.”

  “By the way, Jared Fisher is also MIA today
. Ryder and I ran around town this morning looking for him, but he’s nowhere. According to office gossip, Mandi and Jared are having an affair, so there’s that.”

  Blake seemed pretty excited, fidgeting with nervous energy. “This case is getting more interesting by the minute. I love the tangled ones.”

  I hated the tangled ones. “This one has way too many players right now. Anyone from the reps giving kickbacks to the doctors getting them or the higher-ups at Silver Spruce would have something to gain by silencing Scott. We need to start weeding some out. I think we should split up and visit some doctors this afternoon. I want to wait before speaking to any of the Silver Spruce reps again. I don’t want them to think we’ve switched our focus onto looking at them. Julia, can your husband get us a list of the doctors who’ve been seen out with Silver Spruce reps? And any others he suspects might be getting kickbacks?”

  “Sure.” She got out her phone and typed a quick text.

  I stood, suddenly remembering I had access to a key piece of information. “I’m going to work on getting us a list of Silver Spruce’s local clients.”

  Blake furrowed his brow. “You think Silver Spruce is simply going to hand that over to you? Or do you have an inside source you’re keeping to yourself?”

  Winking, I replied, “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  —

  I found Ryder pacing outside the auto repair shop, which was only a few blocks’ walk from the Chronicle office on the town square.

  “How’s it going?” I asked gently, already knowing the answer from his stiff posture and perma-glare.

  “These bozos went to lunch at the same time, so all work halted. They haven’t even started on my car yet,” he fumed.

  I hid a smile. “Right. Things move at a slightly slower pace here than what you’re used to. Good ol’ boys are never in a hurry like you city boys.”

  “How did you stand living here for so long?”

  Ignoring his question, I said, “If they went to lunch, why didn’t you go to lunch, too?”

  “I’m too angry to eat.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re hangry. You were already angry, and it’s past your lunchtime, which makes you grumpy, so everything has snowballed. If we don’t get some food in you soon, you’re probably going to explode.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “How is it that you know me so well?”

  I chuckled. “Experience. Plus, men only have two basic needs—food and sex. I had a fifty-fifty shot at being right.”

  “That is a sexist attitude.”

  “Tell me I’m wrong.” When he couldn’t come up with a rebuttal, I changed the subject. “I need to get something out of your trunk.”

  He nodded to his car sitting in the shop’s parking lot and we headed in that direction. “What did you find out from your new friends?”

  I retrieved Ryder’s extra set of car keys we’d stashed in my purse and opened the trunk, pawing through my overnight bag to find Scott’s tablet. “Long story. I’ll tell you over lunch. The good news is, we have some leads. The bad news is, there’s a lot of them.”

  Chapter 17

  Ryder and I walked back across the square to Sam’s Tavern. I’d had a craving for their greasy pub food ever since Pete and I were here this weekend. While we ate, I filled Ryder in on everything I’d learned. At that point, I had to confess to him that I’d kept Scott’s tablet, because I wanted to be able to show him the list of Silver Spruce’s clients. After enduring a couple of minutes’ worth of his reprimands, I got out the tablet and we perused the list together. All of the reps had a few clients within the county plus a larger outlying region they were responsible for, but there was no way to tell which clients—if any or perhaps all of them—were receiving bonuses under the table.

  “That’s a long list. We need to cut it down,” Ryder said.

  “Julia is getting a list from her husband of docs who seem to have become exclusive clients of Silver Spruce. I figure we can start with them, plus I’d like to go back and actually talk with Dr. Richardson, the one who complained about Scott stealing from him. Oh, and we really need to find Jared Fisher.”

  “And Mandi O’Malley.”

  I shrugged. “I doubt if she’ll be any help.”

  He stared at me for a moment. “I meant we need to find her because she could be in danger. You don’t seem like you care either way.”

  Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Look, she—or someone—has already cried wolf once about being missing. And she’s a pro at playing people. I should know. So forgive me if I call bullshit on this one.”

  “You don’t think she’s in trouble?”

  “No. I think she’s being selfish. I think she took a vacay so she wouldn’t have to deal with Scott’s death. Trust me, she’s not in mourning. Who knows? Maybe she and Jared decided to run away together. She does that with other women’s men.”

  Ryder smirked at me. “Well, it’s nice to know you’re not still bitter about it.”

  Before I could come up with a snappy comeback, my phone rang. When I saw Pete’s name, my irritation dissolved. I got up from the table and hurried toward the door, calling, “I need to take this,” over my shoulder.

  “Hey, Pete,” I said breathlessly. Why all of a sudden was a mere phone call from my best friend enough to get me all hot and bothered?

  “Hey, Jules,” he mumbled. “Hope you don’t mind if I eat while we talk. I have like three minutes for lunch, and then I have to get back to the studio. The snippy little starlet we’re working with today doesn’t eat, so she doesn’t expect anyone else to, either.”

  I laughed, happy to think about something besides the case. “Ooh, she sounds like fun.”

  “Her momager is even worse. She’s been breathing down my neck all morning, telling me how to do my job. She keeps whining, ‘My daughter sounds flat. Fix it. Don’t you have Auto-Tune?’ She doesn’t seem to understand that Auto-Tune can only do so much when you’re singing the wrong notes. But enough about my first-world problems. How’s the investigation going?”

  I hesitated. Telling him about this morning’s incident would only worry him, plus it was over and done, and we were fine. “Um, it’s going okay. Didn’t make a lot of headway this morning, but we’ve got a plan for the afternoon.”

  “Find Mandi yet?”

  “Nope. And her boyfriend is nowhere to be found, as well.”

  “I bet they ran off together.”

  I smiled. “That’s what I said.”

  Pete groaned. “Aw, crap. Momzilla is back. I gotta bounce. Call you later.”

  “Okay, have fun.”

  “Jules?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  I ended the call and went back into Sam’s, only to find Ryder still smirking. “What?” I asked.

  “You do like him. A lot.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Pete. That’s who the call was from, right?”

  Time for some more deflecting. There was no way I could talk about my feelings for Pete (with Ryder, no less) and be expected to run a successful investigation of my ex-fiancé’s murder. It was way too much to ask of anyone. “Yeah, and shouldn’t I like him since he’s my BFF?”

  Ryder shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

  “Are we done here?” I asked, gesturing to our empty plates.

  “Oh, I’m just getting started. Did you realize you were giggling while you were talking to him?”

  I said between gritted teeth, “I don’t giggle.”

  “You were giggling.” He jerked his head toward the front of the restaurant. “I saw you through the window.”

  I stood and tossed some money down on the table. “We’re burning daylight, Detective.”

  Shrugging, he got up and threw down some cash of his own. “Yes, ma’am.”

  —

  Julia’s husband had been able to come up with the names of six doctors he thought mig
ht be getting kickbacks, which she’d emailed to me. We decided to divide them up, each team (Ryder/me, Blake/Lizzie/Julia) taking three. I sent Julia the master list of Silver Spruce’s clients from Scott’s tablet, hoping she might have an idea of who to try after we exhausted her list.

  When Ryder and I got to Dr. Richardson’s office, we found out that he was taking an extended lunch, aka golfing, and would be back later to see the remainder of his patients for the day. Another doctor on the list, Dr. Devaux, had an office in the same building. This was an interview I was not looking forward to. Dr. Devaux had been my childhood pediatrician until I was ten years old. He’d made a major misdiagnosis, insisting I had a flu that lasted for weeks when I actually had Lyme disease from a tick bite. Needless to say, my parents lost their confidence in him and found another doctor for me, making sure to let Dr. Devaux know what they thought of him after the fact.

  Dr. Devaux wasn’t free to speak with us when we walked in, so Ryder and I had to sit for what seemed like hours in a waiting room full of haggard-looking moms, and children with snotty noses and croupy coughs. For me, the place was a hellscape, and not only because it brought back bad memories of childhood doctor visits. Strangely enough, Ryder watched mesmerized as the kids ran and played, grinning as they sometimes (horror of horrors) stopped to touch us with their grubby hands before looking up to realize we weren’t Mom or Dad.

  I leaned over and whispered to him, “You seem to be enjoying this. What’s up with that?”

  He turned to me, puzzled. “These little guys are adorable. You don’t think so?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, right. You’re the one who doesn’t want kids.”

  “That’s me.”

  “Why not?”

  I gagged as I watched a little boy grab the hem of his mother’s skirt and wipe his dripping nose with it. “I have to touch enough gross things at work. I don’t want to do it at home, too.”