talk to your doctor about this?”
“The prescription should still be good.”
The pharmacist typed something into his computer and said, “That’s not the problem. You say you stopped taking these pills how long ago?”
I told him.
“Any dizziness or headaches?”
I nodded
“Shakes or tremors?”
“Sure.”
He frowned and stepped away from the computer. “You can’t just quit taking this medication like that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous for one. You’re having withdrawal symptoms already, but beyond that, you could do serious damage to your nervous system.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” I said. “I’m going to start them again today.”
The pharmacist shook his head. “Mr. McCray, you can’t just start them again, either. You need to build to a level that works for you, and you shouldn’t do that on your own. Have you talked to your doctor?” He looked back at the computer screen. “Dr. Conner?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m afraid I can’t fill this prescription without assurance that he is aware of the situation.”
“I’ve been taking these pills for years. I know what works and what doesn’t.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Call him,” I said. “He’ll tell you.”
The pharmacist moved back to the computer and started typing. “I can call his office,” he said. “Would you like to wait? It might take a while.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll come back.”
The pharmacist nodded then went back to his screen.
I walked out of the store and into the morning.
“Her mother is absolutely losing her mind.”
“Well, what’d you expect?”
The woman behind the counter turned away from the cook’s window and shook her head. “Breaks your heart, to be a mother.”
The man in the kitchen said something I didn’t catch and was gone. The woman grabbed the coffee pot off the burner and made her rounds.
When she got to me, she filled my cup and said, “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”
I glanced down at what was left of the omelet. “Best I’ve ever had, I told you.”
She smiled, but there was nothing behind it.
“Megan not working today?”
“She’s sick. Told her to stay away.”
She started to move on and I said, “Has anyone heard anything? About the other girl?”
She shook her head. “Sheriff Nash was here this morning, asking questions. Said he’d been all over town, but nobody seems to know a thing. I mentioned the boyfriend, said maybe they’d eloped or something, but he said the boyfriend was still around.”
“Well, there goes that theory.” I sipped my coffee. “Did he have any ideas?”
“If he did, he didn’t mention them to me.” She shifted the coffee pot from one hand to the other. “I sure hope she’s OK. Maybe the boyfriend can tell him something that’ll help.”
“He hadn’t talked to him?”
“Going there after he left here, he said.”
I frowned, and the woman must’ve noticed. “Something wrong?”
“No,” I said, cutting into the last of my omelet. “Just thought the boyfriend would’ve been his first stop.”
“Why’s that?”
I took a bite. “You always hear whenever someone is murdered the most likely killer is either the boyfriend or the husband, so I figured—”
The woman’s mouth seemed to come unhinged, and I stopped talking. At first I didn’t know what I’d said, then it came clear.
“Why in the world would you think she’s been murdered?”
“I’m just saying—”
“That girl ran off, that’s what happened. There’s no reason to think anything else.” The woman turned away so fast that some coffee splashed out of the pot and hit the floor. She didn’t notice.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I said.
“I don’t see why people have to jump to the worst so fast.” She poured coffee for the couple at the next booth then looked back at me. “There are ten million other possibilities, you know that?”
“Yes ma’am, I do.”
She came back to my
“The prescription should still be good.”
The pharmacist typed something into his computer and said, “That’s not the problem. You say you stopped taking these pills how long ago?”
I told him.
“Any dizziness or headaches?”
I nodded
“Shakes or tremors?”
“Sure.”
He frowned and stepped away from the computer. “You can’t just quit taking this medication like that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous for one. You’re having withdrawal symptoms already, but beyond that, you could do serious damage to your nervous system.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” I said. “I’m going to start them again today.”
The pharmacist shook his head. “Mr. McCray, you can’t just start them again, either. You need to build to a level that works for you, and you shouldn’t do that on your own. Have you talked to your doctor?” He looked back at the computer screen. “Dr. Conner?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m afraid I can’t fill this prescription without assurance that he is aware of the situation.”
“I’ve been taking these pills for years. I know what works and what doesn’t.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Call him,” I said. “He’ll tell you.”
The pharmacist moved back to the computer and started typing. “I can call his office,” he said. “Would you like to wait? It might take a while.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll come back.”
The pharmacist nodded then went back to his screen.
I walked out of the store and into the morning.
“Her mother is absolutely losing her mind.”
“Well, what’d you expect?”
The woman behind the counter turned away from the cook’s window and shook her head. “Breaks your heart, to be a mother.”
The man in the kitchen said something I didn’t catch and was gone. The woman grabbed the coffee pot off the burner and made her rounds.
When she got to me, she filled my cup and said, “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”
I glanced down at what was left of the omelet. “Best I’ve ever had, I told you.”
She smiled, but there was nothing behind it.
“Megan not working today?”
“She’s sick. Told her to stay away.”
She started to move on and I said, “Has anyone heard anything? About the other girl?”
She shook her head. “Sheriff Nash was here this morning, asking questions. Said he’d been all over town, but nobody seems to know a thing. I mentioned the boyfriend, said maybe they’d eloped or something, but he said the boyfriend was still around.”
“Well, there goes that theory.” I sipped my coffee. “Did he have any ideas?”
“If he did, he didn’t mention them to me.” She shifted the coffee pot from one hand to the other. “I sure hope she’s OK. Maybe the boyfriend can tell him something that’ll help.”
“He hadn’t talked to him?”
“Going there after he left here, he said.”
I frowned, and the woman must’ve noticed. “Something wrong?”
“No,” I said, cutting into the last of my omelet. “Just thought the boyfriend would’ve been his first stop.”
“Why’s that?”
I took a bite. “You always hear whenever someone is murdered the most likely killer is either the boyfriend or the husband, so I figured—”
The woman’s mouth seemed to come unhinged, and I stopped talking. At first I didn’t know what I’d said, then it came clear.
“Why in the world would you think she’s been murdered?”
“I’m just saying—”
“That girl ran off, that’s what happened. There’s no reason to think anything else.” The woman turned away so fast that some coffee splashed out of the pot and hit the floor. She didn’t notice.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I said.
“I don’t see why people have to jump to the worst so fast.” She poured coffee for the couple at the next booth then looked back at me. “There are ten million other possibilities, you know that?”
“Yes ma’am, I do.”
She came back to my
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