Tampered by Ross Pennie

Author:Ross Pennie [Pennie, Ross]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Medical Mystery
Publisher: ECW Press
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 24

At four o’clock that Friday afternoon, Zol hung up the phone in his office and said a prayer of thanks to the inventor of call waiting. Arlene Novak had rung off to take another call coming in at her end. Despite all scientific evidence to the contrary, the woman was convinced that her children’s school was wrapped in carcinogenic asbestos and toxic mould. She wanted the building condemned and rebuilt on a brand new site where the basement was certified free of radon gas. During Mrs. Novak’s daily calls, Zol considered it a point of honour to stay calm and keep his tone measured. No matter how shrill her voice, how outlandish her claims, Zol challenged himself to maintain his cool while not giving in to her exorbitant demands.

He gazed out of his window at the parking lot and its scrum of dented garbage cans. The gritty view was a poor inducement for daydreaming. It kept him focused on the stark matters at hand, like catching Vik Horvat with his fingers on the counterfeit meds he was dispensing to dim-eyed seniors. Natasha told Zol about Steeltown Apothecary’s suspicious blood-pressure tablets when she’d called on her cellphone. As a good citizen, and a trusted public servant, Zol knew he should blow the whistle immediately — inform his boss Peter Trinnock, the RCMP, the Ontario College of Pharmacists, Gloria and Gus Oliveira at Camelot, and the residents themselves. But he was going to sit tight and wait for the drug company to analyze Horvat’s tablets. If the meds were fake, the bastard truly was putting seniors in jeopardy all over the city. Rushing in with no hard evidence against the man would accomplish nothing but front-page drama and another black mark against everyone in the health care system. Zol prayed that Horvat’s clients could live with poorly controlled blood pressure for a few more days.

He turned to his computer screen, intending to see what emails had piled up in the past hour, but his door swung open and Colleen tiptoed in carrying two coffees and a Nitty Gritty bag of pastries, which she handed to Zol.

“Thought you could do with a Friday afternoon treat,” she said, closing the door.

Colleen herself was treat enough. Without a second thought for the computer, he set the cups and pastries on his desk, then greeted her with a squeeze. She had the knack of appearing exactly when he needed her most — professionally and emotionally. She lifted her face and offered a warm, full kiss on the lips. He drank in the arousing hints of jasmine and mandarin enveloping their embrace.

He finally let her go, then took her coat and hung it on the rack. He felt suddenly hot in his blazer and shrugged out of it.

“Mmm,” he said, ripping open the paper bag. “Marcus’s famous raisin scones.” Not only did Marcus run his Nitty Gritty Café like a well-oiled machine, he was a cheery barista and a talented baker. “Already buttered. Fantastic. Thanks.”

“Have you noticed? Marcus only makes them on Fridays.

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