Legacy (Steel Brothers Saga #14) - Helen Hardt Page 0,42
when the benefit outweighs the cost, you do what you have to do. Besides, we’re not talking about Dr. Pelletier. We’re talking about a college senior with no psychological training who might not know how to deal with such a trauma.”
I considered his words. “I don’t think so. I can’t see Murph doing something like that.”
“We have to consider every angle.”
“I get that, but no. Murph didn’t do this. I’m certain. Even if he’d been thinking about it, he wouldn’t fuck up my wedding.”
“All right. I won’t leave any stone unturned, son. I’ll get to the bottom of this for you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
My father was such an enigma. I both loved and hated him. Right now, I was thankful for him and his money. I had no doubt he’d figure out what had happened to Murph.
“Shit. There’s a doctor talking to Murph’s parents.” I stood.
“Leave them be. Let them deal with this.”
Perhaps I should have listened to my father, but I was missing my wedding night for their son. I walked over.
“How is he, Doctor?” I asked.
“And you are?”
“Bradford Steel. Sean’s best friend. My father is the one who brought him to the ER.”
“I see.” He looked to Murph’s parents.
“It’s okay,” his father said.
The doctor cleared his throat. “We got the rest of your son’s blood work back. The amount of heroin wasn’t enough for him to overdose. Just enough for him to get dizzy and pass out. The problem is the other thing the screening showed. He has botulinum toxin in his system.”
“Botulism?” his mother said.
“The toxin that causes it, yes.”
“And…?” his mother said.
“And…I’m so sorry to have to say this. We’ve administered antitoxins, but they’re not having any effect. He’s not awake, and his organs are failing. I’ve told the nurses to let you spend his last hours with him in the ICU.”
His father glared at me, and his mother seemed to look past all of us.
It hadn’t registered yet.
Hell, it hadn’t registered with me yet.
“How…? Where would he…?” I wasn’t sure whether the words came from me or someone else.
Someone had thought out every detail. I clenched my hands into fists.
“He most likely ingested it,” the doctor said.
“From the food at your wedding?” Mr. Murphy glared at me once more.
“No! Of course not. No one else is sick.” That I knew of, anyway.
“Someone drugged and poisoned our son.” From his father. A statement, not a question.
“It appears that way. I’m so sorry. Please, follow me. I’ll take you to him.”
I gulped. “I want to see him.”
“No,” his father said. “You’ve done enough.”
“I assure you my son has done nothing.” When had my father walked over? “He’d like to see his best friend. To say goodbye.”
“No,” Mr. Murphy said again flatly. “Our son’s last moments are for us.”
“Doctor…” I began.
“I’m sorry. It’s his parents’ call.”
“But he’s an adult.”
“And they are his next of kin. I’m sorry.” The doctor led the Murphys out of the waiting room.
“Wait!” My father walked swiftly through the door.
I sat down in the closest chair, my whole body numb.
Murph.
Murph was dying.
Someone had drugged and poisoned him. Heroin. Botulism. My mind raced. The heroin to make sure this happened at the wedding because no one knew when the botulism would kick in. Then the botulism—enough to take down a healthy and robust twenty-two-year-old.
The only person I knew of who might be capable of such a heinous act was locked up and medicated.
Several minutes later, my father returned. “Go ahead back, son. You can see him.”
“How…?”
“Money talks,” he said dryly. “They’re a hundred grand richer.”
“You spent a hundred grand so I could see Murph?”
“Money well spent. Go see him. Tell him goodbye.”
I nodded and walked through the door. The doctor and the Murphys stood outside an ICU room.
“Thank you for letting me do this,” I said.
“Your father made a strong argument,” Mr. Murphy said. “Go in. You have two minutes. The rest of the time is for his mother and me.”
I nodded. How could I argue? I walked into the room. Murph was hooked up to all kinds of beeping machines.
His eyes were closed, his skin pale. An oxygen mask covered his face.
“Hey, Murph,” I said.
I’d begged for this, and now I had no idea what to say.
“I’m so sorry this happened. I’ll find out who did this to you, and they’ll pay. I swear to God, they’ll pay.” I moved to squeeze his hand but held back. An IV line stopped me. “Thank you for being my best man. You’ve been the greatest friend a guy