angry with him because he’d confiscated her cigarettes.”
“She was a patient. What was her diagnosis?”
“An anxiety disorder, I believe. I can’t recall exactly.”
“If the patient recanted her accusation, why was it still in his file?”
Mr. Draper shrugged. “That’s the paperwork system. And why I hesitated to mention it. It’s always seemed unfair that even if an accusation turns out to be unfounded, the charge still remains part of your file.”
Reed sighed internally. It worked the same way in the police department. Even if you fought a charge and were exonerated, the paper trail remained in your personnel file. Still . . . it might be worth checking up on. “Do you remember this patient’s name?”
“I don’t. I’m sorry.”
“Okay. Ah, just one more question, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
“We matched the key card used to the time Mr. Sadowski appears on camera leaving the building. Although he was issued one in his name when he was hired, and that one was used the morning his body was placed inside the hospital, the key card he used the night before was registered to you.”
Mr. Draper’s brows furrowed and he looked away for a moment, as though considering. After a second, he shook his head. “I hate to say it, but the key card system there isn’t very well managed.”
Reed gave him a smile. “Dr. Nolan said the same thing.”
“Liza,” he said fondly. “Sweet girl. Very smart.” He blew out a breath. “Yes, the system could use better management, though I must admit as well, I’m not the most organized man. I lost at least a couple during my years at Lakeside and had to have new ones assigned. Old cards are supposed to be de-activated, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that never happened. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Sadowski found one of those old cards in the office he took over from me. Perhaps he used the cards interchangeably for some reason. Perhaps he mistook the one he found for his own. I don’t know. And I suppose it doesn’t make a detective’s job easier in light of what happened.”
Mr. Draper nudged a controller on the arm of his wheelchair, and began moving toward the hall. He gestured to Reed, indicating he should follow him. When they entered an office down the hall, the older man wheeled himself to a mahogany desk and pulled a drawer open, retrieving something from inside. He held up a white key card. “I found this one when I did a rare desk clean-out last year.” He wheeled himself back around the piece of furniture and handed the card to Reed. “Like, I said, it should have been de-activated, but who knows.” He shrugged. “I assume you’ll be at Lakeside again at some point during the investigation. If you could return it for me, I’d appreciate it.”
“Of course.” Reed slipped the key card into his pocket.
Mr. Draper tilted his head, peering up at him. “Can I say, Detective, that you look . . . familiar somehow? I’ve been trying to place it but . . . uh”—he made a small movement with his fingers—“my memory is not as good as it once was.”
Reed smiled, but it felt tight. He got that sometimes, and he always figured it was because at some point in time, the person trying to place him had seen his infamous father on one of the dozens of crime shows of which he’d been the subject. “I think I just have one of those faces,” Reed said, reaching out to shake Mr. Draper’s hand.
“Yes, well, perhaps that’s it,” the old man said, though his expression was dubious.
“I appreciate your time, sir. And, I’m sorry about your recent loss.”
“Thank you, Detective. That’s very kind.” He nodded to a picture of two smiling young boys on a bookshelf next to the door. “That was Everett,” he said, pointing to the younger of the two. Reed stepped closer, his gaze moving from the chubby, older boy with the wide grin to Everett. He looked slight and bookish, with his button-down shirt and glasses. His smile was shy, but his eyes were squinted as though he might be about to laugh.
Mr. Draper pointed at another photo on the shelf above, placed next to a pile of comic books. It was of a smiling couple, arms linked casually. “This was my son and daughter-in-law, the boys’ parents,” he said. “They died in a house fire when the boys had just started middle school. They came to