Chapter 3 - The Bottle in the Drawer
Nathan had lived with an arrhythmia for six years.
It had frightened Evelyn at first.
Then it became ordinary.
Cardiology appointments.
Bloodwork.
A small amber bottle on the bathroom shelf.
Nathan joked that modern medicine had turned him into an expensive grandfather before forty.
“He took digoxin?” Helen asked.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Years.”
Helen placed the bottle on the desk.
Evelyn read the label.
DIGOXIN.
0.25 MG.
TAKE TWICE DAILY.
She frowned.
“That’s not right.”
Helen looked at her.
“You’re certain?”
“He took one tablet in the morning.”
“What strength?”
“I thought one-twenty-five micrograms.”
Evelyn’s mouth went dry.
She searched Nathan’s medical file.
He kept copies of everything.
An older refill receipt lay inside.
0.125 mg.
Once daily.
Evelyn looked at the new bottle.
“Where did you get this?”
“His old golf bag.”
“Why was it there?”
“I don’t know.”
The bottle had been filled twelve days before Nathan died.
Helen sat down.
“I remember him complaining that the pills looked different.”
Evelyn stared at her.
“When?”
“Two days before he died.”
“And you never told me?”
“I thought it was a generic brand.”
Evelyn snatched up her phone.
“We need to call the pharmacy.”
“At midnight?”
“The emergency line.”
They reached a pharmacist, who could confirm almost nothing without verification of Evelyn’s status as Nathan’s personal representative.
But one sentence mattered.
“We can provide a dispensing history once the proper authorization is received.”
“Can you tell me who changed the dosage?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“Was it his cardiologist?”
“I can’t discuss the record.”
The hesitation before the answer terrified Evelyn.
At eight the next morning, Cole arrived without invitation.
Evelyn met him on the porch.
“You don’t come inside.”
He looked tired.
“You called Martin at six thirty.”
“I asked for the original loan guarantees.”
“I heard.”
“I also asked for Nathan’s board communications.”
Cole’s face remained blank.
“Why?”
“Because I’m his widow and beneficiary.”
“You’re not an officer.”
“No. I own his shares through the trust.”
“Once administration is settled.”
“You seem very interested in reminding me what I don’t control.”
Cole gave a thin smile.
“Someone has to.”
Evelyn stepped closer.
“What is Bracken Ridge?”
The smile vanished.
“Where did you hear that?”
“So you know it.”
“A vendor.”
“What kind?”
“Consulting.”
“For what?”
“Operational restructuring.”
“Two-point-four million dollars’ worth?”
Cole’s eyes sharpened.
“Have you been digging through company files?”
Evelyn heard the phrasing.
Digging.
She thought of the boot print near Nathan’s oak.
“Answer the question.”
“Bracken Ridge was Nathan’s project.”
“Then why did he write ‘ask why’ beside it?”
That was a mistake.
She knew it immediately.
Cole’s expression changed.
Not surprise.
Calculation.
“Where did he write that?”
Evelyn said nothing.
Cole stepped toward her.
“What did you find?”
She held her ground.
“Leave.”
“Evelyn, listen carefully. Nathan was not the man you think he was.”
“You don’t get to tell me who my husband was.”
“I worked beside him fourteen years.”
“And I slept beside him twelve.”
Cole’s jaw tightened.
“He was moving money.”
“Through Bracken Ridge?”
Cole hesitated.
A fraction too long.
Then he nodded.
“I discovered it after his death.”
“Convenient.”
“You want the truth?”
“I want documents.”
“The truth is your husband left a financial disaster. I have spent seven weeks keeping the board, the banks, and fifty-eight employees from finding out how bad it is.”
From inside the house came Wren’s voice.
“You were here that night.”
Cole froze.
Wren stood behind the glass storm door.
Evelyn turned.
“What?”
Wren opened the door despite her mother’s warning look.
“The night Dad died.”
Cole’s eyes fixed on her.
“You’re confused.”
“No.”
“You were asleep.”
“I saw your car.”
“At what time?”
Wren hesitated.
Cole almost smiled.
“You don’t know.”
“Yes, I do. My clock said 11:43.”
Evelyn stared at him.
Nathan had told her Cole left the house around nine after a meeting in the study.
Cole had told police the same thing.
“You came back?” she asked.
“No.”
Wren shouted, “You did!”
“Wren.”
“He went into Dad’s study!”
Cole took one step toward her.
Evelyn moved between them.
“Don’t.”
His gaze remained on Wren.
“You should be careful encouraging this, Evelyn.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s advice.”
“No. Advice sounds different.”
Cole exhaled.
Then his eyes moved toward the study window.
Toward Nathan’s desk.
Toward the drawer where the garden journal now lay hidden beneath Evelyn’s sweater.
“I loved Nathan like a brother,” Cole said.
Helen appeared behind Wren.
“Then why are you lying about coming back to his house the night he died?”
Cole looked at her.
For the first time, he had no quick answer.
Helen lifted Nathan’s medication bottle.
“And why was my son’s prescription doubled twelve days before his death?”
Cole’s eyes dropped to the label.
Only for a second.
May you like
But all three of them saw it.
He knew exactly what bottle she was holding.
