Deep Hurt - Eva Hudson Page 0,59
I couldn’t tell you. But I suppose Carrie had a touch of the baby blues. I know she didn’t sleep much when they brought Molly home from the hospital. Not for months. I think the sleepless nights took their toll.”
“Do you know if Carrie went to see the doctor about it?”
Sherwood was just about to answer when Gurley strode back into the room. Why couldn’t he have stayed in the car?
“Yvonne?” Ingrid said gently.
The woman was clearly distracted by the sight of Jack Gurley heading toward her. “What?”
“Did Carrie visit the doctor?”
“Why don’t you ask her about it?” she snapped.
Ingrid knew that the interview had come to an end. Gurley’s reappearance had seen to that. She got to her feet. “Thank you for your frankness.”
“What happens now? Should I expect a visit from the police in the early hours?”
Ingrid was inclined to keep the police out of the picture for now. She was pretty sure they wouldn’t get much more out of Sherwood than she had. Although the prospect of prosecution might make the woman more forthcoming, Ingrid decided to hold the threat of police involvement in reserve.
“Not at all. We’ll be in touch.”
30
On the drive back to the base Ingrid got Gurley up to speed with what Sherwood had told her. “You agree we hold back on informing the police about her involvement?” she asked him when she was done.
“I’d like to keep them out of the picture until we’ve come up with our own strategy for what we do next.”
“We will have to tell them something, though.”
“Let’s sleep on it, deal with that whole pile of crap in the morning. Agreed?”
“OK.” The idea of getting some sleep was suddenly so appealing to Ingrid, right then she might have agreed to anything Gurley suggested. But she knew her day wasn’t nearly over. She still had a whole lot of her own crap to confront.
When they reached the base, Gurley personally escorted her to a guest room he’d had prepared for her in advance. As soon as she closed the door behind him, Ingrid collapsed onto the single bed and took a moment to focus on her next task. It was already well after midnight. If she didn’t act now, her first chore would have to wait until the morning.
She eased herself upright then carefully retrieved the pill she’d found in the Fosters’ bathroom cabinet from her pocket. She then grabbed her cell phone from her purse and called Natasha McKittrick.
“Bloody hell—what time do you call this? Is everything all right?”
“I need a quick favor.”
“Where are you?”
“I need you to identify a drug for me.”
“Me?” McKittrick exhaled noisily. “What makes you think I can help you?”
The hostility in her friend’s tone took Ingrid by surprise. “You told me you were on a prescription drugs bust a little while ago. Sounded to me as if you knew a little something about the subject. Did I get that wrong?”
The line went quiet, but Ingrid could hear McKittrick breathing. “Natasha? Have I said something out of line?”
“No—you woke me up—that’s all. I can get a bit tetchy. Sorry.”
“Hey, no problem. I’m sending you a photo of the pill now.” Ingrid found a sheet of plain white writing paper on the bureau next to the door, carefully placed the small capsule on it so that the writing printed on the side was clearly visible and snapped a couple of shots with her phone. She sent them to McKittrick. “You get them yet?”
“No—where did you find this pill, anyway?”
“Bathroom cabinet of Kyle Foster.”
“What does it say on the bottle?”
“The bottle was unmarked—you think I’d be calling otherwise?”
“OK—the pictures have arrived. Give me a second.” A few moments later she was back on the line. “It’s an anti-depressant. A bit like Prozac with knobs on. You think Foster was taking them for his PTSD?”
“The therapy he’s been getting is the cognitive behavioral kind. Do you know if there are any common side effects to these drugs?”
“Like most of this class of drugs: disorientation, fainting, drowsiness maybe.”
“Not exactly ideal if you’re a pilot.”
“Maybe that’s why they were in an unmarked bottle. Perhaps he’s been getting some unofficial extra help with his problem.”
“How easy are they to get ‘unofficially’?”
“If you have the contacts, it’s no problem at all.”
Ingrid couldn’t imagine how Kyle Foster would have the right connections to get hold of prescription drugs and wondered what other secrets he might be keeping.
“Are they something he’d need to keep taking? Are there any withdrawal symptoms?”
McKittrick paused a beat