His gut tightened at the sight of the police officer marching toward him with the muscular gray and white pit bull at her side.
Miriam Reyes. My Miriam, he thought, but drove that memory from his mind. He had to focus on the investigation and only the investigation.
When she reached him, she stared at him, her blue-eyed gaze narrowed. Suspicious. The pittie mirrored that look, sitting on its haunches and peering up at him.
“Agent Peterson,” she said and tipped her cap in greeting. The cap was emblazoned with the police force’s emblem, a shield honoring the area’s mountains, woods and the nearby Salmon River. The same emblem was on her badge and a patch on the sleeve of her black uniform shirt.
Her hair, those thick marvelous waves of nearly black, was caught up in a ponytail tucked through the back of the ballcap.
“Alex?” she pressed at his prolonged perusal, her gaze blazing with annoyance.
“Officer Reyes. Miriam,” he said and held his hand out in invitation. "And your K-9 partner is…"
She ignored his hand, but her K-9 partner gave a rough woof as Miriam said, “Her name is Lily and you’re barking up the wrong tree about Marie.”
He nodded, understanding that this reunion was all about business and nothing more.
“As a police officer, you should know we have to follow up on every lead.”
Lips tightening, she reluctantly nodded. “I understand, but I think you’ll find that Marie Beaumont is an upstanding citizen.”
“The registry indicated controlled substances from her office were in the drug ring’s warehouse,” he explained.
“I’m sure she’ll have an explanation,” she replied, and Alex motioned for Miriam and her K-9 partner to enter the veterinarian’s office.
Inside there were several pet parents cuddling a menagerie of animals. They all glanced at Alex, Miriam and Lily as they walked in and approached the receptionist’s desk.
Miriam spoke to the young woman in hushed tones, mindful of the prying eyes in the reception area. The receptionist nodded and as they walked to the vet’s private office, he noticed the vet inspecting a beagle’s paw in a treatment room.
Inside the office he paced, eager to interview the vet and get an explanation that would send him away from Jasper. Away from Miriam. At his prolonged pacing, the pit bull barked as if warning him to chill.
Barely a few minutes later, the veterinarian walked in, her blue eyes dark and troubled. Tension radiated from every line of her lithe body, a runner’s build if he had to guess.
She wrung her hands tightly, fingers nearly white from the pressure. “How can I help you?” she asked and bent to rub Lily’s head almost absentmindedly. The dog gave a friendly lick of her face.
When the vet rose, she shook his hand. Her hand was ice-cold hand and every cell in his body warned this woman was hiding something.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Dr. Beaumont. But during our investigation we found medications that the state registry indicated were in your possession.”
“I don’t know how that’s possible. We do an inventory check weekly and update the registry. I can show you,” she said and with a wave of her hand, invited them to follow her.
She guided them to a storage area where she unlocked the door and then walked to a locked medical cabinet. She opened the cabinet, took a journal from a bottom shelf, skimmed through it and then examined the shelves holding the medications above it. Shaking her head, she said, “Everything still matches up.”
She handed him the journal to review and as he did so, he asked, “Who has access to this cabinet besides yourself?”
“Normally only me, but Tashya Pratt has been interning with me. She’s in vet tech school and I’ve been allowing her access. We also provide some medications to the DCA in case of emergencies. You’ll see that noted in the journal, but I’m sure they have similar inventory controls in place.”
“Tashya Pratt,” he said and jotted down her name in his notepad. “You mentioned she’s in school. Here in Jasper?”
“Boise,” Marie answered quickly and shook her head. “Tashya is a good kid.”
“And the DCA—”
“The Daniels Canine Academy. You may remember Officer Daniels,” Miriam explained.
He nodded, vaguely recalling the death of the K-9 police officer when Alex had been a kid.
“No one at the DCA is involved in this,” Miriam said, and Marie echoed her assertion.
Alex quickly countered with, “How can you be so sure?”
“Because Emma Daniels took me in when my parents were killed,” Miriam said, shocking him into silence.
“I’m sorry,” he said, guilty that he hadn’t known. Guilty that he hadn’t been there for her. But regardless, he still had to investigate. It was just too much coincidence that Tashya was connected to Boise.
“I think it’s time we visited the DCA.”
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