Gotta Get Next To You (15 page)

“First, you pay back the three thousand you
owe me. Either I get cash or I take it outta your ass.” Ty thumped
Denny harder to make his point.

“Right, right,” Denny agreed eagerly. When
the big man walked away, he rubbed his chest.

“Now, tell me again about the setup.” Ty went
to a lumpy old couch and sat down hard.

“Three days a week I work with the
pharmacist. I can get in the drug room without it looking
suspicious then,” Denny said.

“Okay, but you can get a key other days if
you tell one of the nurses you need somethin’, right?” Ty asked the
question as though he already knew the answer. His icy gaze did not
waver.

Denny rubbed his jaw with a nervous jerky
movement. “Sometimes the pharmacist makes up prescriptions on the
spot if the doctors leave orders.”

“So you can pretty much come up with a reason
to get in anytime you want,” Ty’Rance said as he leaned forward.
“You can fix up the books so they don’t know nothin’ is
missin’.”

“But I can’t—”

“Then make up some invoices and order more
drugs,” Ty’Rance cut in.

“Forge her name?” Denny’s eyes were round as
saucers.

“No, say ‘Sign here, I’m gettin’ extra
goodies to sell on the street,’ ” another gang member barked. “What
a chump!”

“What you think you gonna do?” TV glared at
him impatiently. “You can get the blank forms an’ you know what to
do, right?”

“Yeah,” Denny said reluctantly.

“I’ll tell you what to order. There are some
drugs we can cook and make into powerful stuff.”

“Yeah, designer drugs,” Bo piped up. “Damn,
Ty. We can clean up!”

“Right. We can corner the market around for
miles. Even make some sales in New Orleans. Yeah, I like that.”
Ty’Rance wore a smile as he looked around at the others.

“We got to be real careful now.” Denny wore a
thoughtful and more relaxed expression. “Listen, after my debt gets
paid, how ’bout I earn some money, too?” Ty’Rance tilted his head
back and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. The others waited
in silence. He lowered his head and looked at Denny again. “You set
this up right and we’ll see.”

“Okay!” Denny blurted out. His anxiety seemed
re-placed now with enthusiasm.

Ty held up a palm. “I said we’ll see. First
you gotta produce.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Now you talkin’ sense, boy. I was beginnin’
to think you was all into that nine-to-five crap.” Ty lit up a
cigarette and sucked on it.

“I’m gonna make enough to set up a nice
savings ac-count for Granny, then I’m heading back to L.A. I’ve got
it all planned,” Denny said with a lopsided grin.

Ty eased down into the cushions. “Uh-huh. One
thing at a time.”

***

Two days after his last heated encounter with
Andrea, Lee sat in front of the computer monitor without seeing it.
He’d put off digging deeply for too long. Why? The answer blinked
in his head like the black cursor on the computer screen: Andrea.
Lee did not want to find the link proving she was involved. But he
would need to do a report soon for Mandeville and the advisory
board. There was no way around it.

With a sigh, he scrolled through the now
computerized drug inventory. There was a tracking chart for the
purchase of medications and their use, which linked to a
spreadsheet. The pharmacist entered quantities dispensed, which in
turn subtracted from totals. It took only a few keystrokes to know
the amount of drugs that should be in the cabinet. Lee gazed at the
figures for thirty minutes. He noticed a gradual increase in
orders. Yet according to his count, the number of patients had
remained the same. He wrote down long chemical names of drugs so he
could look them up. Later he would check purchases against
dispensary records. Before Lee could react, the door to the record
room swung open. Denny came in and looked at the monitor over his
shoulder.

“What you doing?” Denny asked.

Lee switched to a different screen. “Checking
these programs I installed. I’m taking a break from entering data.
Man, these records are jacked up.” He pointed to a stack of
folders.

Denny gathered the folders into his arms.
“I’ll take care of these.”

Lee stretched and leaned back in the chair.
“Okay. Just show me the invoices.”

“What invoices?” Denny looked at him with a
frown. “Purchase invoices, purchase orders? If I’m going to help
keep track, I’ve got to see it all.”

“I’m taking care of that, too. Just, uh, help
me file some papers in the patient records. I mostly got this stuff
wrapped up.” Denny dropped a folder, then three more when he bent
down to pick the first one up.

“Lots of things are disappearing around here.
We can cover each other if we both make sure all the paper is
right.” Lee cocked his head to one side. “You’re not worried about
anything, are you?”

“Don’t come in here accusing me of anything,”
Denny said, his voice strained.

Lee dropped his voice. “Lots of drugs being
ordered. Wonder why.”

“It’s a clinic, man! I don’t have time for
this.”

Lee held up both hands, palms out. “Whatever
you got goin’ on is your business.”

“My business is right,” Denny snapped. “I
work here and that’s all you need to know. There is nothing going
on. Nothing.”

“Cool. But Miss Noble asked me to put the
records in the computer. I’ll know what ought to be here, equipment
and medical supplies included.”

“So do it and quit bothering me!” Denny
blustered. “Man, I’m going back out front.”

“I can help,” Lee said quietly as he leaned
forward. Denny glanced at him sharply, then looked away. “I don’t
know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay. But if you get jammed up, let me
know.” Denny stood up straight, his expression guileless. “I’m
working with Miss Andrea to clean house, Jamal. If you know
anything about missing clinic property, then you better tell
me.”

Lee had to admire the kid’s audacity. Denny
seemed quite confident of himself. It meant one of two things.
Either Denny really was innocent of any wrongdoing or he had what
he thought was a foolproof system for covering his tracks. His
cocky expression made Lee suspect the latter. Also he and Andrea
had been working closely together. Could it mean Andrea was in on
it and would back him up?

“A person could make some good money. If
some-body wanted to, I mean.” Lee shrugged.

“Which is why a lotta folks got fired,
right?” Denny shot back.

“Yeah,” Lee answered. They gazed at each
other in silence for several seconds. “Guess they were stupid.”
“You got that right. See ya.” Denny walked out with a long, cocky
bounce to his steps.

Lee felt frustrated and depressed. His
instincts told him to keep trying. But it bothered him more than he
cared to admit that Andrea might be involved. Lee turned back to
the computer. He had put considerable time into learning the art of
forensic records examination, the new term for sniffing out a rat.
He would keep at it no matter where the trail of crumbs led
him.

The Plumbers Union Hall was decorated with a
combination of artificial greenery and real flowers. Andrea looked
around the large meeting room that had been transformed into a
grand ballroom for the fund-raiser. Local businesspeople and Bayou
Blue society were just as decorative in their finest. Andrea wore a
plastic smile. These kinds of functions were now part of her duties
as director, and she wasn’t thrilled about it. Yet the clinic was
also supported by local funds, and Bayou Blue was by no means a
wealthy town. Such events would allow her to implement programs
tailored to meet the needs of Lafourche Parish residents. To that
end, Andrea would just have to grin and bear it. Thinking of all
the people who would benefit helped her get through it.

The Zydeco Rockers played a series of lively
tunes that coaxed more and more couples onto the floor, but
Andrea’s focus was not on partying. This was a business affair for
her. She circulated through the crowd, making contacts and
answering questions about her health initiatives. A plump redheaded
woman in a bright orange chiffon dress appeared beside her.

“Miss Noble, I’m Hester Chappelle of the
Bayou Rouge Chappelles.” Hester flashed a wide grin at her and
waited for a response.

Andrea did not miss her cue. “Of course,
everyone knows the famous Chappelle family,” she said with a nod.
“Who doesn’t love Fireball Creole pepper sauce?”

“Ours was first!” Hester declared, and then
giggled. “Every member of my family has to say that or be
disinherited.” She referred to the decades-old rivalry with another
famous Louisiana family who had a world- renowned hot sauce.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Andrea accepted
the offer of a cup of punch from a passing waiter. Another round of
chitchat would leave her throat dry again.

“So-so. The subcommittee did a fair job.”
Hester glanced around the crowd. “I suggested we have a biker
theme, but...” She lifted a shoulder.

“That would have been interesting.” Andrea
sup-pressed a shudder at the idea.

“The Summer Sensation thing is okay, I
guess.”

“Well, we do have a wonderful turnout,”
Andrea said. There were well over one hundred people in
attendance.

Hester glanced around the room. “Hmm. I
especially wanted to meet you.”

“Really?”

“I admire all those fabulous programs you
have. Community service is a particular interest of mine.” Hester
beamed. “I helped to set up rose gardens for the homeless in over
fifteen cities.”

Andrea gazed at her speechless for a few
seconds. “Now, that is something.”

“I know it sounds strange, but bringing
beauty into their lives is just as important as food. And they can
sleep on grassy patches, too.” Hester spoke with pride.

“Guess they know to avoid the thorns,” Andrea
murmured. Then froze at the expression on Hester’s face.

Hester blinked rapidly in confusion, then her
face cleared and she burst into laughter. “You’re a delight, Miss
Noble. I’m going to tell my brother to write a nice big check for
the clinic.” She patted Andrea’s shoulder and left still
giggling.

Andrea sighed with relief as she watched the
woman drift away to join other wealthy friends. Hester seemed to be
repeating the story to them. Andrea smiled and waved when Hester
pointed to her.

Just then Katy emerged from the crowd, a
plate of hors d’oeuvres in hand. She wore a pink pantsuit and her
dark hair was pinned up.

“See, boss? I don’t know why you were
worrying. You’re doing a great job of schmoozing,” she said.

“Nice word for brownnosing,” Andrea quipped.
“And I’ve come close to stepping in it three times since I got
here.”

“Relax; your work speaks for itself. You’ve
got heavy hitters in your comer.” Katy cleared her throat and
nodded to her left.

Andrea glanced at John Mandeville and his
wife, Victoria, standing with another couple. He looked over at her
and raised his wineglass in greeting. Victoria Mandeville followed
his gaze. Her thin mouth clamped shut. Andrea turned away from
them.

“Katy, tell me the truth. Is there gossip
about John Mandeville controlling the clinic?”

“No way, folks are too scared of him,” Katy
answered bluntly.

“So you know,” Andrea said.

“Yeah, well...”

“Oh God! Just what I need!” Andrea rubbed her
forehead.

‘Trust me, no one is going to risk the
infamous Mandeville wrath,” Katy whispered. “Come on, boss.
Relax.”

“Sure, relax,” Andrea said, and resisted the
urge to look at the Mandevilles again.

“Ooh, I love this song. I’m going to find my
date and boogie,” Katy said with a wide grin. She tugged at
Andrea’s arm. “I said forget it, Andrea. Okay?”

“Okay.” Andrea forced her mouth to curve up
into a smile.

She watched Katy leave with a sigh. At least
Mandeville was staying well away from her. Andrea decided to put
even more space between them and moved through the crowd. Gran
grabbed her arm.

“Everybody’s having a good time,” she said,
her voice raised so she could be heard over the music. “Why aren’t
you dancing?”

“This is business for me, Gran. You know
that. I’m being watched and judged.” Andrea tilted her head to
indicate the people around them.

“Pooh,” Gran said with a dismissive wave of
her hand. “They’re already impressed if they’ve got any sense. Have
some fun.”

“From the way you were kicking up your heels
with Mr. Walter, I’d say you’re having enough fun for both of us.”
Andrea grinned at her.

“We’re just friends.”

“Oh, yeah. Tell me another one,” Andrea
teased.

Gran blushed. “Hush your mouth.”

“I think he’s cute. And a real nice guy.”

“Isn’t he, though?” Gran smiled, then
squinted at Andrea. “What are you doing for male company?”

“Don’t start.”

Andrea put an arm around her and they
strolled toward the tall doors that opened onto the terrace. A warm
wind blew in the scent of the bayou and gardenias planted around
the courtyard. The floor was made of a dark green stone tile.
Antique-style lampposts provided a soft lighting. Six wrought-iron
round tables with matching chairs sat in a circle around an area
left clear for dancing.

“Baby, you’re lonely,” Gran said.

“For the one hundredth time, I’m not lonely,”
Andrea said in a patient tone as though talking to a child.

“Yes, you are.”

“I don’t have time to be lonely. Besides, I’m
surrounded by people ten hours a day.”

“I’m talking about romance, girl, and you
know it.” “Let’s not have this argument again.” Andrea kissed
Gran’s cheek as they went outside.

Gran held up a finger. “I don’t argue. I
discuss. And I think—”