Stolen(65)
Three hours in, she laid a thick sheaf of papers down, and threw her head back. She was tired. The soft sound of snoring came from the general vicinity of the bed where Spense sprawled with his mouth open. Her eyelids drifted shut. Then suddenly, her head jerked to her chest, and the movement startled her into consciousness . . . and a sudden realization. “Oh lord. I think I’m onto something.”
Spense moaned, then she felt something soft hit her in the back of her head.
A pillow.
“You woke me up.” He came around and sat beside her at the work table. “This better be good.”
She turned her chair toward him, her knees touching his. “Chemical restraint.”
“Say again.”
“Grady’s been using a form of chemical restraint on Laura. It’s so obvious, I don’t know why it took me so long to see it.”
“I think I can guess what you mean, but maybe you better spell it out.”
“Chemical restraint is just exactly that. You don’t have to put someone in a straitjacket to exert physical control over them—and when you use drugs to keep someone’s behavior in check, there’s an added benefit—you can exert control over not just their body, but their mind. There are plenty of medications designed to make a person docile.”
“There ought to be a law against that.”
“Believe me, there are plenty of them. But it’s tricky. A lot depends on the discretion of the doctor, and how the law is interpreted.”
“That’s a hefty accusation. You sure he intended to use Laura’s medications to control her?”
She wasn’t. “No, but, whether or not it was the intent, it was definitely the result. For example, here—” She laid a medication sheet in front of him. “Grady prescribed haloperidol, lorazepam, and phenobarbital—all at the same time.”
Spense dragged a hand over his face, but he no longer looked sleepy. “I thought phenobarbital was used for seizures.”
“It is.” She slapped down a progress note. “Says here he prescribed it for anxiety and as a sleep aid. That is a legitimate use of a barbiturate, but it causes central nervous system depression. Haloperidol is an antipsychotic but he’s using it for anxiety again, and lorazepam and diazepam. Every single one of these drugs induces sleep and docility. It’s a wonder Laura could hold her head up, much less understand what was happening to her.”
“Webber did say the Chaucers wanted her to get a good night’s rest.”
“I doubt they meant they wanted her sleepwalking through life. And this is just a slice of the picture. According to these records Laura was subjected to poly-pharmacy—”
He held his hand up.
“The use of multiple meds at once, for over a decade. And Spense, some of these medications can increase the risk of suicide. All of them used together . . .” She shuddered. “Looks like Laura Chaucer’s been walking around with a time bomb inside her.”
“And Grady Webber has the nuclear codes.”
Chapter 34
Saturday, October 26
8:00 A.M.
Task force headquarters
Highlands Hotel
Denver, Colorado
Spense stepped around an upended couch in what was left of the war room. The orange monstrosity listed precariously against the wall, and he stuck out his arm to hold it in place as Caity passed by. “Didn’t take long to dismantle this place,” he observed to a glum Hatcher.
“All the extra furniture is going back to the rental center today. But at least the commander gave Cliff and me the suite until the end of next week—it’s paid up through then.”
“And the rest of the team?” Caity asked.
“Reassigned.”
Their own fate, his and Caity’s, suddenly became an elephant swinging from the rented chandelier.
“S’pose you’re wondering why I called you in first thing.”
Spense had a pretty good idea. When they’d received Hatcher’s summons an hour ago, he figured Webber had already filed a complaint. “You gonna cuff me now or later?” He attempted a laugh, but if anything, it only made the doom and gloom in the room more oppressive.
“Webber’s not going to press charges,” Hatcher said.
A hopeful smile broke over Caity’s face, but judging by Hatcher’s sour expression, Spense knew the other shoe was about to drop. “So what did he want in exchange?”
“You. Off the case.”
“And you agreed?”
“I said no problemo. Not like they haven’t already cut the guts out of the task force. I didn’t expect to get to keep you anyway.”
“But Caity and I are on the FBI’s dime. Doesn’t cost your department a thing,” Spense said. He understood he couldn’t have any further dealings with Webber since it might taint any new evidence they got from him, but there was no reason to kick Spense to the curb altogether. He was surprised Hatcher hadn’t put up more of a fight. “I can work around this thing. Stay out of Webber’s way . . .”