Katie moved to the next room and pulled the chart out of the holder, only glancing at the name. Before she knocked, she stopped and looked at the chart again. She flipped open the folder to see why Christopher Riley would be there to see her. He usually went to Emmett. Under “reason for visit,” Angie had written, “insomnia.”

Katie took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Hello, Mr. Riley.” Katie held out her hand to him, and they shook.

“Dr. LeClair.”

Katie sat on the wheeled stool and flipped his chart open on the counter. “What can I do for you today? Angie says you’re having trouble sleeping.”

“No, I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you. I work evenings, and you work during the day, so I thought the easiest way would be to just make an appointment.”

“I see.” Katie closed the folder and turned to face him. “How can I help?”

Christopher looked at the floor and fiddled with his wedding ring. “I know Ellen really liked you, and I wondered if she told you about anything that might have been bothering her.”

Katie chose her words carefully. “Not really. She said she was having trouble sleeping, but that was all.”

Christopher nodded. “I know she was worried.”

“Have you talked to Chief Carlson today?”

He looked up and met her eyes. “Yes, he told me this morning that they are treating her death . . .” He stopped and swallowed. “Treating it like a homicide. It was bad enough imagining she had killed herself, but murder is worse.”

He sat forward and put his face in his hands. Then he ran his fingers across his hair and looked at the ceiling.

Katie sat very still and waited.

“I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt her. Everyone loved her.”

“Is there any chance that one of her clients might have had an issue?”

Christopher shook his head. “All her clients see her for career or lifestyle advice. She helps them to figure out what they want to do and then helps them make a plan. She doesn’t—didn’t—see anyone for any serious psychiatric problems anymore.”

Christopher hesitated and then continued. “So she never said what was causing her sleeping trouble?”

Katie shook her head. “No.” Of course, she didn’t tell him that other people had shared their ideas of what might have been stressing Ellen. She wasn’t sure whether Christopher really wanted information or was just fishing to see if she knew anything. The second thought had her on alert.

“I wish I had come home early that night,” he said. “I was going to, and then I got hung up in a meeting until after six. I was halfway home when Beth called to say Ellen was being taken to the ER.”

Katie studied him carefully. He didn’t seem to be lying. She had developed an ability to suss out lies during her training. Gabrielle was right; everybody lied, and a doctor needed to be a good lie detector. But she wasn’t picking up on any signals that he wasn’t telling the truth. Katie wondered if John had checked his alibi. And whether he would share that information with her. If Christopher was telling the truth, who had Mrs. Peabody seen that night?

And why was he here? To find out what was bothering Ellen or to find out how much she, Katie, knew?

“I’m sorry I can’t shed any more light on this for you. Her last visit was pretty routine.”

He nodded. “Thank you for listening. I just feel like my whole life has been upended. I guess I hadn’t realized how much I relied on her.”

He stood, and Katie shook his hand. He left the room, but Katie lingered for a moment, clutching his chart.

She went out into the hall to see that every room had a flag signaling a patient ready and waiting. She took a deep breath and went to the next room.

She grabbed the chart and smiled. A well-baby visit. Six months; pretty much the best age for a doctor visit. Babies were smiling by then but not yet afraid of strangers. Katie rapped on the door and stepped inside.

Three hours later, Katie sat in her office with a stack of charts to write notes in and another list of phone calls to make. She knew she wouldn’t get through it all without some coffee. Her mind kept drifting to Ellen’s murder and all the unanswered questions in her notebook.

She headed for the break room. As she turned the corner in the back hall, she saw Angie slip quietly into Emmett’s office. It wasn’t unusual for the nurses to be in and out of doctor’s offices to leave messages or charts. But the way Angie glanced up and down the hall and clicked the door shut behind her caused Katie to walk past the break room and tiptoe toward Emmett’s office door.

She stopped when she heard voices inside. She looked down the hallway to be sure no one was witnessing her brazen eavesdropping.

“I can’t figure it . . .” Angie’s voice said, but Katie couldn’t hear the rest.

Emmett’s response was a low mumble. Why didn’t they speak up?

“We have to do . . .”

There was silence, and then Emmett’s voice again—too quiet to hear.

Katie, worried she would be caught eavesdropping and with nothing to show for it, turned to head back to the break room. She had just stepped inside when she heard Emmett’s door click open again.

“Just let me know what you want to do,” Angie said. Katie heard her walk down the hall and turn toward the front desk.

Katie saw her opportunity and marched back down the hall to Emmett’s office. Something was going on with the practice, and she had a right to know what it was.

She knocked on Emmett’s door.

“Come in,” Emmett said.

Katie swung the door open, stepped inside, and shut it again.

Emmett smiled warmly at Katie. “Katie, how are you? I heard the news about Ellen Riley—such a shock. I can’t remember the last time there was a murder in Baxter.”

Emmett gestured to the chair in front of his desk, and Katie sat.

“It’s been quite a roller coaster this past week,” Katie said, “but I wanted to ask you about something else.”

“Oh, yes? Everything going okay in the office?”

Katie nodded. “Yes, everything is fine. It’s just . . .” Katie took a deep breath. “I was wondering if any medications had gone missing recently. From the drug cabinet.”

Emmett sat back in his chair, and his smile faded.

“What have you heard?”

Katie shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything. I was here yesterday to look at a chart, and I found Nick in the med room. He said he was doing inventory.”

She noticed Emmett’s shoulders stiffen at the mention of Nick.

“I just figured he wouldn’t be checking drug supplies unless something was up.”

Emmett relaxed again and then nodded. “There have been a couple of discrepancies, and we’ve been looking into it. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“You do know that Ellen Riley was killed with a Demerol overdose?”

“What? No. I hadn’t heard that part.” Emmett swiveled his chair and looked out the window for a moment. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with us.”

“I think it might have something to do with the practice,” Katie said.

Emmett swung his chair around. “What do you mean?”

“The police originally thought Ellen had killed herself with an overdose of diazepam. A prescription with my name on it.”

Emmett looked down at his desk. “I had heard something about that. I should have talked to you earlier. You can’t blame yourself, Katie. We can’t control everything.”

“I don’t blame myself.” Katie heard the edge in her voice and took a moment to calm down. “First of all, she wasn’t killed with diazepam, and secondly, I didn’t write the prescription.”

Emmett glanced up sharply and met her eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Someone wrote a prescription using our prescription pads and my name,” Katie said. “I’ve looked through all the records, and it’s not listed anywhere.”

“This is troubling,” Emmett said. “I’ll talk to Angie, and we’ll try to get to the bottom of it as well as the . . . other discrepancies.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Thank you, but I think Angie and I have it well in hand.”

Katie doubted that was true, but she didn’t want to push him just yet.

“Well, I’d better get back to my office. Those notes aren’t going to write themselves.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Emmett smiled briefly.

Katie left his office wondering how he planned to “get to the bottom” of it.

She still felt the need for caffeine and stopped at the break room on her way to her office. It smelled of burned toast and stale coffee. She approached the coffeepot with trepidation. At this time of day, there was no telling how thick the brew had become. She dumped the pot and rinsed everything. Then she loaded a new filter and coffee grounds into the basket, filled the water tank, and pushed the button. While she waited, she glanced out the window toward the parking lot. It was mostly empty this late in the day; the front desk staff had gone home and only Katie’s, Angie’s, and Emmett’s cars sat in the lot. As she watched, an old white van pulled in and parked. Marilyn climbed out and went to the back to remove her supplies.

A man walked out of the woods along the path and approached her. She set her things down to talk to him. Marilyn stood with arms crossed while he talked. Although his back was to her, Katie sensed something familiar about him. It was just at the edge of her brain when the coffeemaker began hissing. She hadn’t put the pot back under the basket, and brown liquid ran everywhere.

She shoved the pot underneath the stream of coffee and yanked a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser. The burned coffee smell permeated the room, and by the time she was done cleaning up the mess, the man was gone and Marilyn was lugging her supplies across the parking lot.