drugs. Do you remember seeing him?”
The doctor tilted his head to the side in thought. “Not specifically, but it’s a common occurrence.”
“She said security escorted him outside.”
“That’s not uncommon either. Occasionally one gets belligerent and we’ve had to call security.”
Liam needed to look back at the security footage that had been salvaged. Maybe the man was on camera. If he identified him, they’d have a chat. He also wanted to talk to the head of security. Jacob had questioned him already, but after five years, maybe he remembered something that hadn’t stuck out at first.
“What about Nurse Weiss?” Liam asked. “What is your opinion of her?”
The man hesitated. “Peyton is a dedicated nurse. She’s detail oriented, kind, compassionate and typically a good bridge between patients and families.”
“Did she administer any drugs to Mrs. Inman?”
“Yes, of course. That was her job. I ordered epinephrine, which is Adrenalin, to jump-start the heart.”
“Was it possible she gave the woman the wrong medication?”
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of the doctor’s face. “I guess anything is possible, but Peyton is meticulous and checks the labels and the chart for allergies or other medications the patient is taking before she administers anything.”
“But it was chaotic in the ER that night?”
“Yes, it was an unusually busy evening, and Mr. Inman was yelling at everyone. Security had to pull him from the room.”
“He was afraid for his wife’s life,” Liam said.
Butler shifted again, obviously uncomfortable with the question.
“He was. I assured him we’d do everything we could, but I had to work on his wife and didn’t have time to coddle him.” He steepled his hands together. “But even on a chaotic night, safety protocol is followed to prevent mistakes. The staff logs every detail of the patient’s treatment, including vitals and medications, as well as the amount and time administered.”
“Did Nurse Weiss have a conversation with Mr. Inman?”
Butler scratched his head. “No, one of the other nurses did. Peyton was too busy.”
So that eliminated the possibility that Inman had named her out of anger.
“How about the night of the fire? Did she act any differently that evening?”
Butler’s brows pinched together. “Not that I recall. She helped evacuate patients, then was frantic to find her mother. Mrs. Weiss had gone into cardiac arrest, but I performed CPR and she survived.”
Did Peyton feel indebted enough to him to lie or cover for him if he’d made the mistake in the ER with Gloria Inman?
* * *
WHILE HER MOTHER watched her favorite game show on TV, Peyton gathered her laundry. In the bedroom on the small corner desk though, she found an open photo album.
Photos of her and Valerie filled the pages. Memories washed over Peyton and made her chest clench. When they were little girls, they used to be so close. They’d played dolls together, braided each other’s hair and snuggled together at night when Val got afraid of the dark.
But with age, they became more and more different. Val had jet-black hair, a model figure and looked exotic while Peyton felt like a plain Jane. But no matter how many compliments Val received or offers for dates, nothing seemed to make her happy. She became withdrawn and depressed. By fourteen, she was sneaking alcohol and drugs.
Their mother had forced her into rehab. For a while, her sister seemed to want to come clean. But six months later, she’d fallen off the wagon hard.
At eighteen, she’d run away. Peyton felt responsible. Val was her baby sister. She was supposed to take care of her. Save her.
But she’d failed.
She traced her finger over Val’s face in the last Christmas photo they’d taken before Val ran away. Over the past ten years, she’d seen her sister three times. Each time, Val had returned, begging for money to get clean. Although each time, she’d accepted that money, used it for another fix, then disappeared.
Last year, she’d tried again, but Peyton had refused to give her money and offered to drive her to rehab instead. Val had become irate and belligerent and attacked her. Then she’d stolen Peyton’s credit card and run.
Had she been in her mother’s room the day before? Or in the gardens last night?
They didn’t keep drugs in the patients’ rooms but used a dispensary to ensure the medications were monitored. She tossed her mother’s laundry into the washing machine, added soap and started it, then went to the living room.
“Mom, I have to go back to work. I’ll see you this evening.”
Her mother barely looked up