Chapter 13 - Lab Results In The Parking Lot
We'd been sitting in the diner parking lot for almost an hour. The engine was off and the lot was hot. Sophie had fallen asleep against the passenger door with her seat belt still on, her pink pajamas replaced by the clothes I'd grabbed from her dresser, a t-shirt and soft pants. Her breathing was even. I had the windows cracked and the clinic discharge papers folded on the dash.
My phone rang at 2:47. The caller ID said COUNTY SHERIFF.
I answered before the second ring. "Daniel here."
The deputy's voice was the same one who'd taken the bags that morning. Steady, a little tired. "Daniel, I've got the lab on the other line. I'm patching them in for the official read. You're on speaker with me, okay?"
"Okay."
There was a click, then a woman's voice. "Mr. Hart? This is Marissa Cole from the county lab. I'm confirming chain of custody numbers with the deputy present. Sample one, glass with orange liquid, sample two, residue swab from kitchen trash foil pack, sample three, tablets from prescription bottle recovered from suitcase."
I swallowed. My mouth was dry. "Yes."
"The orange juice tested positive for lorazepam, a benzodiazepine sedative. Concentration was approximately two milligrams per four ounces, which is a sedating dose for an adult and well above a therapeutic dose for a child. The residue on the foil and the tablets in the bottle match the same compound and manufacturer imprint. The bottle is prescribed to Claire Jensen, date filled two weeks ago, thirty tablets, lot number matches."
Sophie stirred but didn't wake. I kept my voice low.
The lab woman continued, "No other substances detected in the juice. No cleaning agents, no alcohol."
The deputy came back on. "Daniel, you copy that? The pills in Claire's bottle are the same as what's in the glass. And we counted the empties."
I didn't move. "How many?"
"Fourteen blisters punched empty. Bottle says fourteen remaining of thirty. So sixteen accounted for outside the bottle. Two milligrams each. The lab's dose in the glass lines up with one to two tablets crushed. That matches means and opportunity. She had the supply, and the juice was the vehicle."
The lab woman said, "We'll send the written report to the sheriff within the hour. The deputy's evidence tags are logged."
I thanked her. The line clicked off and it was just the deputy again.
"You did right bagging it without touching the liquid," he said. "You want me to meet you back at the house? She is still there, suitcase by the cabinets where you said. No contact since you left. My partner did a drive-by ten minutes ago, lights off, she was inside."
I looked at Sophie. Her cheek was pressed to the window, hair stuck to her forehead. The pediatric nurse at the clinic had said her vitals were normal, no symptoms now, watch for drowsiness, keep fluids. We were cleared to go home, but I hadn't wanted to go home without someone else there.
"Can you meet us there now?" I asked. "I don't want to walk in alone with Sophie."
"That's exactly what I was going to recommend. I can be at your driveway in twelve minutes. You pull in behind me. We do this calm, no cuffs unless she escalates, civil standby to start. The lab gives me cause to ask her to leave the residence. The suitcase is already packed. That helps."
I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "We'll head over now. We're at the diner on Main, by the clinic."
"Take your time. I'll be parked at the curb. Don't go inside until I'm there. Keep Sophie in the truck if you need a minute."
We hung up. I sat for a second with the phone in my hand. The air in the truck felt thick. I didn't feel vindicated. I felt the weight settle lower, from panic to something solid and cold.
Sophie opened her eyes. "Was that the doctor?"
"That was the sheriff's office," I said. "They checked the juice. You were right."
She sat up a little. "What was in it?"
I chose the words the lab had used, but simpler. "Medicine that makes people sleepy. It was the same medicine from Claire's bottle in the suitcase. The same pills. They found it in the glass."
Her eyes got big and she looked at the diner, then back at me. "So she did put something in?"
"Yes."
She didn't say anything for a moment, then reached for my hand across the console. Her hand was warm.
The deputy was already at the curb when we turned onto our street. White SUV, county seal on the door. He stood outside it, hat off, talking into his shoulder mic. Our house looked the same from the road, white cabinets just visible through the kitchen window, daylight still bright on the wood floor.
I pulled in behind him and put the truck in park. Sophie stayed buckled. The deputy walked back to my window and bent down.
"Ready?" he asked quietly. "We go in together. You stay by the door with Sophie, I do the talking. She leaves with the suitcase. No argument about who owns what today, we sort that civil later. You good with that?"
I looked at the front door, then at Sophie in the mirror. "Yeah. Let's do it that way."
May you like
He nodded once. "Keep your phone recording in your pocket if you want, same as before. Stay calm, let me carry it."
I unbuckled and got out, then helped Sophie down. The three of us walked up the driveway together toward the house where Claire was waiting by the white cabinets, her suitcase handle still extended.
