Page 245 of Chameleon Killer

The waitress returned with coffee. Bless her. She put it in front of me without looking at Flint. I liked her and she was getting a huge tip including the five bucks I scored off of Flint.

I took a sip as Flint sighed in mock disappointment. Everyone else might think he meant it, but I could feel the flex of his thigh and caught the barest curve at the corners of his mouth.

“Give us a little longer,” Flint told the waitress. “We haven’t looked at the menu yet.”

“I’ll be back then.”

Brewster waited.

It was a fresh pot, strong, and rich. I savored the first sip and then the second before I resumed the threads of our questioning. “When was Guy given Versed?”

“We don't know.”

“Then how do you know the hospital didn't administer it?” Flint took a long drink of the glass of water she’d brought him. She’d also brought me one, so he’d be well-hydrated.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Brewster suddenly looked tired. “No corresponding medication order.”

“That doesn't mean it wasn't administered.” I blew lightly at the edge of my mug before taking another drink. It was just this side of scalding. Seriously perfect coffee.

“No.” Yet, Brewster wasn’t happy with that answer either.

“Could have been emergency use.” Flint speculated.

It was my turn. “Verbal order.”

“Charting error.” Brewster shrugged. “Whatever it was, the first tox screen showed no signs of it.”

That… was significant.

I stopped with the coffee halfway to my mouth.

Flint went still.

“Two tests. The standard blood draw in the ED when he was admitted and a second one four hours later. Midazolam appears on the second.” That summed it all up. Brewster’s recitation still didn’t explain why he hid it, but we’d get there.

I lowered the cup. “So, we can deduce that Guy received the versed at the hospital.”

“We can speculate,” Brewster corrected me. “But we can't establish that.”

I stared at him. “You just established the first sample was clean.”

“For midazolam.”

“And the second wasn't.” I raised my brows. I hadn’t imagined what he said.

“Yes.” For a moment, Brewster just looked weary. Soul weary and I sympathized with him there.

Flint saw it before I did. “You don't know which if any of those two samples are reliable.”

“If hospital staff drew the samples and they labeled them correctly—I’m assuming chain of custody was involved because of the investigation.” Now I was thinking out loud. “Why are you uncertain if either sample is reliable?”

Brewster hesitated.

“Elliot.”

“The second sample wasn't processed through the hospital's primary laboratory.”

I’d always possessed a kind of internal radar that would go off when something sounded like bullshit. That didn’t mean the words were wrong, but the what and the why behind them were suspect.