Till Death Do Us Bark (30 page)

Watch Lady thought for so long Ellie was positive she wouldn’t answer. Then she said, “Tell me, how did you get that horrendous bruise in the first place?”

Close to whispering a snarky comment, Ellie smiled. It couldn’t hurt to gloss over the truth here, since Watch Lady wasn’t one of Arlene’s friends. “I tripped and fell down a set of stairs that led to the beach. Landed facefirst on the bottom step.”

“I see a lawsuit in your future. You know, negligence on the part of the homeowner, or are you at the Montauk Manor?”

“A private house,” she said, not wanting to get an innocent hotel in trouble. “And yes, I’ve already consulted an attorney.”

“Are you here alone, or was someone with you when it happened?”

“I’m with a friend, but this is my first time ‘out east.’ As you can see, I’m not familiar with the rules, and I do appreciate you taking the time to fill me in.” She figured she was on a roll, so why stop now? “Tell me, have you ever had any trouble getting a prescription for pain from Dr. Bordowski?”

Watch Lady finally cracked a real grin. “Sabrina gives me anything I ask for. Just name your poison and bring the prescription to the drugstore in Montauk. Uncle Mickey will fix you right up.”

The front door opened and another woman walked in. At the same time, Sabrina Bordowski escorted her last patient out. Then she walked to Watch Lady and held out her hand. After that, things got complicated.

The doctor glanced at Ellie and flared her nostrils, glaring like a professional female wrestler Ellie had once seen on the TV. Come to think of it, she was built like one, too, nearly six feet tall, with broad shoulders and man-sized hands. “Have we met?”

“I believe we were both at the prewedding party for Dr. Kent and Arlene,” Ellie answered.

“Ah, I thought you looked familiar.” She scanned Ellie’s face with a trained eye. “That looks painful.”

“It’s the reason I’m here.”

“I’ve been telling her you’ll take care of her, Sabrina, so be nice,” said Watch Lady.

“Most of the patients I see are here because they’ve had a personal recommendation,” the doctor said.

“Oh—ah—Arlene sent me. She said you and Dr. Kent were in the same type of practice.”

“Really?”

“She did.”

The doctor nodded. “I’ll be with you soon.” She waggled a finger and Ellie’s new friend, the nameless watch lady, followed Dr. Bordowski through the door.

 

Ellie settled into a chair in the doctor’s office. Ms. D&G had just left the building, marching away in a fit of temper without the usual escort. And that was odd, because every other client had been given a friendly but professional sendoff as they were guided out. But before she had a chance to think on it further, Sabrina took her in hand.

“Rumors travel fast around here, especially in the summer.”

Dr. Bordowski trailed her fingers over the bump on Ellie’s forehead. “I heard someone broke into Arlene’s house a few nights ago and you were the one who stopped the intruder, so I assume that’s where you got this beauty of a bruise.” She raised an eyebrow as she studied the lump. “I see you didn’t need stitches, and I doubt you’ll have a scar. Whoever applied the butterfly bandage did a decent job.”

“Um, a police officer who came with Detective Wheeling took care of it.” Ellie had sat in the waiting room for over an hour, which gave her plenty of time to think of what she would say. There was no way she’d talk about her connection to James Bond and the DEA with Sabrina Bordowski. If she was involved in Dr. Kent’s drug ring . . .

“You say you’re having a lot of pain. On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”

“At least a nine,” Ellie lied. “I know people have different pain thresholds, but I’m a sissy. Splinters make me cry, and headaches do me in. Since I was slammed during the burglary, the jackhammer inside my head never seems to stop.”

Dr. Bordowski narrowed her blue eyes. “Surely you’ve been able to borrow something from Arlene.”

“Arlene is going through a—a catharsis of sorts. When she found out about the charges the DEA planned to level against her fiancé, she flushed all but a few of her meds. The cops searched her house and her medicine cabinet, and she came up clean. She sent me here,” Ellie continued. “Said you and Dr. Kent were in the same—um—line of work.”

“Did she, now?” The doctor frowned and ran a finger under Ellie’s eye. “It sounds as if the two of you are close.”

“I’m a friend of her youngest sister.” There was no reason to lie about her connection to Vivian. “She keeps me informed on everything that’s happening in the case. And I did have dinner with Arlene last night.”

The doctor trailed her fingers from the bridge of Ellie’s nose to the tip. “Any pain here?”

“Yes. Especially when I sneeze.” That was true.

“So, what have you been using to take the edge off?”

Reaching back in her brain, Ellie recalled the name of the two pills Viv had given her on the night of the attack. “Valium to calm me down and help me sleep and Percocet for the pain. But Arlene’s running low. She said she might come to you herself later. Something about her prescriptions running out.”

“Hmm. Has she talked to Mickey?” Sabrina cupped Ellie’s chin and turned her head to get a side view of the bump. “He’d probably be able to fix her up.” She removed her hand, picked up a manila folder she’d started when Ellie came in, and wrote something down. “Did you have an X-ray or MRI?”

“Uh, no.” Though she probably should have. “I was flat on my back for a day. Then we had to—to—help Arlene with the memorial details.”

After walking to her desk chair and taking a seat, Dr. Bordowski scribbled another notation in the chart. “Have you been dizzy or nauseated? Are you keeping your food down?”

“No problem there,” Ellie said, relieved she could give another true answer. “But the headache never seems to go away, even with the Percocet. And it’s really hard to fall asleep.”

“How long are you staying here?”

“Just a couple more days.”

“I could send you for an MRI, though I think you’re out of danger. You live in Manhattan?”

“The Upper East Side.”

“Do you have a family doctor?”

Only Rudy’s vet, Dr. Dave.
“Not really. Can I just go to the emergency room?”

“A walk-in clinic might do it, but you’d still need a doctor’s prescription, and it would cost you a bundle. Do you have health insurance?”

“A private plan, yes.”

She scratched a name on the pad and passed it over. “Lorraine Lewis is a good family practice doc.” If the pain is still unbearable in another week, tell her I sent you. She can handle further testing.

“And for now . . .” Dr. Bordowski quickly wrote two prescriptions and passed them across the blotter. “One of these is for the pain and another is a sleeping aid, but they have a little more kick than the Percocet and Valium. Go to Uncle Mickey and he’ll take care of you.” She stood, signaling the meeting was over.

Ellie collected her slicker and tote bag and followed the doctor to the door. She hadn’t said a word about the bill for an office visit, which seemed strange. “Don’t you want my insurance information? I’m not sure what my copay is, but I’d be happy to write you a check.”

“Consider this visit on the house. I just want to ask one more thing.”

“Yes.”

“When and where is Marty’s memorial service going to be held? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

Ellie left East Hampton, careful to obey all the traffic rules as she drove, just in case Officer O’Brien was still on scouting duty. The sun shining through a thin layer of clouds was a sure sign the storm had passed, but the downed branches and excess water clogging the streets made travel, on foot or by car, a soggy mess.

It was close to three, and she was hungry, but she had to do one more thing before she returned to Arlene’s. Staying on the main road instead of turning onto Old Montauk Highway, she rolled into downtown Montauk and pulled up in front of Michael Forrest’s drugstore.

Once inside, she took her time wandering the aisles. As on her first visit, the store held the usual mixture of toddler, teen, and adult customers. Several women were talking about the storm while they picked through easyfold umbrellas and rain slickers. A group of kids inspected the coloring books, crayons, and puzzles displayed in the magazine racks. A trio of adolescent boys thumbed through video rentals, and a couple of teenage girls were giggling in the makeup section while they inspected lipsticks and fingernail polish.

She stopped near the women, hoping to overhear some bit of conversation about their need for “happy pills,” but the talk centered on how to entertain small children in foul weather. Though aware that drug dependency could hit men and women of any age, Ellie had no idea how to start a conversation on the ins and outs of acquiring unprescribed pills to aid with depression, anxiety, or lack of sleep.

After sidling past a group of tweens checking out sunglasses, she arrived at the prescription counter and stood in line behind two women. Uncle Mickey was nowhere to be seen, so she studied the patrons, curious, as she always was, about her fellow man. The moment she got a good look at what the woman directly in front of her wore, she sucked in a “hello.” Ms. D&G seemed edgy, crossing her arms, running her fingers through her short dark brown hair, and huffing out sighs like a threepack-a-day smoker flying on a coast-to-coast flight.

Uncle Mickey came out from the bowels of the drug area, smiling his usual ear-to-ear grin, and passed the first customer a small bag. She handed him a credit card and he took care of the transaction, then sent her on her way with a cheery “Have a nice day.”

When Ms. D&G took two awkward steps to the counter, the pharmacist’s smile faded. He jerked his chin, as if dismissing the woman, and focused on Ellie. Ms. D&G stepped to the side, her face down, staring at her fidgeting fingers.

“Hey, there. How are you?” he asked, his grin back in place.

Ellie trained her gaze on Uncle Mickey, hoping to sneak a peek at the woman sometime during this encounter. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m here to have a couple of prescriptions filled.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.”

“Excuse me,” Ms. D&G interrupted, “but I’m in a hurry. Mickey. I really need to speak with you.”

The pharmacist’s expression rolled back to frigid. “We’ve already had this discussion, Linda. I can’t help you.”

Linda shuddered a sigh. “Mickey, please. I don’t have anywhere else I can go.”

Doing her best to ignore Uncle Mickey and his customer, Ellie pretended to check out a display of postcards featuring the bounty and beauty of the Hamptons.

After another minute of arguing, Mickey said, “Come through the side door so we can continue this discussion.” He gave Ellie a smile. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes. I have to take care of this first.”

Once Mickey disappeared, Ellie scrutinized the prescription area, saw that she was alone, and sidled to the door just entered by Ms. D&G. Leaning sideways, she plastered her ear against the door and held her breath. She was terrible at sneaking around, but this was her only chance to get a handle on Uncle Mickey and his business dealings.

“I’m willing to double the price,” she heard the woman say. “There’s nowhere else I can go.”

“If Sabrina wouldn’t give you a prescription, I can’t help you. Someone’s tightened the noose on this end of the island.” From the sound of his voice, the cheerful Uncle Mickey had turned into a grump. “Without a current prescription, I’m on hold for a while.”

“But I need the Concerta. I’ve gained four pounds since I sprained my ankle in the last tennis tournament. If I can’t exercise, I eat.” The woman’s last words came out in a sob. “You have friends—connections—in the business. Surely you could send me to someone who would—” Linda’s voice dropped to a muffled mix of words.

Ellie remembered Agent Bond’s quick diatribe the night he’d accused Arlene of drug abuse. It sounded as if Ms. D&G was a perfect example of the typical user with her need for Schedule II pharmaceuticals.

After a moment, Uncle Mickey said, “Here, this is the best I can do.”

Ellie skittered back to her spot and continued her postcard perusal. A moment later Ms. D&G slipped out the door carrying a small white bag, and hurried away without a glance in Ellie’s direction. A few seconds later, Uncle Mickey returned to the counter.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Sometimes it takes a while to get through to a customer.”

“Is she a regular?” Ellie asked, trying to sound innocent and disinterested.

“A local, at least during the summer. Her husband is some big real estate mogul in the city, and he sticks her in their beach house for four months out of the year. She gets bored and—” He shrugged. “Never mind. How can I help you?”

Mental fingers crossed, Ellie pushed the two prescriptions across the counter. “I heard her mention Dr. Bordowski. That’s where I got these.”

Mickey collected the sheets of paper and gave them a quick once-over. Then he took a good look at Ellie’s face. “That’s right. I heard you were the one that burglar bounced around the other night. I’m surprised Arlene didn’t fix you up.”

“Arlene’s downsizing her drug cabinet. Seems she’s worried that someone might be looking into Dr. Kent’s records.”

“Is that so?”

“It’s what she said.”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Hmm.”

“You can fill the prescriptions, right? Dr. Bordowski said you were the man to see, but there’s another drugstore across the circle. I wouldn’t mind going there if you don’t have—”

“No, no. We’re fine. I have both of these in the back. Just give me a couple of minutes.”

He left and Ellie blew out a breath. Then the overhead speaker clicked on and a voice said, “Pickup in pharmacy, Mickey. Pickup in pharmacy.”