Chapter 2 - The Stolen Inventory
I stared at the glowing screen of my phone in absolute disbelief.
A federal investigation into my pharmaceutical license made no sense.
I had a perfect record, and I was known for being dangerously meticulous with my inventory logs.
"What is it?" my father asked, noticing the color drain from my face.
"Corporate security just suspended me," I choked out, handing him the phone.
My father read the message, his brow furrowing in deep concentration.
"Derek threatened your job," he muttered, connecting the dots faster than I could.
"He must have done something at the pharmacy to frame you."
I shook my head, desperately trying to understand the logistics of his plot.
"Derek doesn't have access to the pharmacy," I argued.
"Only licensed staff can enter the secure medication vault."
My father picked up his legal pad and began tapping his pen against the desk.
"Think carefully, Claire."
"Has Derek ever visited you at work, or had access to your keys?" he pressed.
The memory hit me like a physical blow to the stomach.
Two weeks ago, I had been incredibly sick with a migraine, and Derek had brought me a coffee during my lunch break.
He had waited in my small office while I rushed to the restroom to be sick.
My security badge and master keys had been sitting right on my desk.
"He had access to my badge," I admitted, my voice trembling with fear.
"If he stole narcotics under my login credentials, I'm facing mandatory prison time."
My father immediately grabbed his phone to call Denise, his attorney, despite the late hour.
Just as the call connected, a loud, frantic pounding echoed from my father's front door.
We froze, exchanging a terrified glance as the heavy knocking continued.
I crept toward the hallway and looked through the security peephole.
May you like
It wasn't Derek standing on the dark porch.
It was his mother, Patricia, and she was covered in blood.
