“A classmate you saw kissing his neck. Come on, Aubrey. You know something was up there. And now, this photo shows up. I keep telling you, something was going on with him.”
“End of subject.” Aubrey glanced at the clock. Chase would be here soon. She didn’t see any sense in fighting Tyler on this. If Chase was going to be in her life, he’d have to meet Tyler sooner or later.
“Fine. You can meet Chase.” She grinned at him. “But take a shower, will you? You stink.”
Her cell phone rang. Meghan.
“Hey. Did you guys find anything?”
“We did. We found a birth certificate from the hospital. Daisy had a boy, down in Williamson County. The birth father’s name was Michael Edwards. The kid would be thirty-three now. That’s it, that’s as far as we’ve gotten.”
“Can you find Michael Edwards?”
“We’re trying. The birth certificate doesn’t have his social on it, and it’s such a common name. We need more to go on. But we’ll keep looking.”
“Thank you, Megan. Thank you so much.”
“Sure thing. Everything okay there?”
“I talked to Arlo. He’s pulling the threads. Everything is going to be okay.”
She heard knocking at the front door.
“I have to go, Chase is here. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Count on it,” Megan said, and hung up.
CHAPTER 52
Josh
Five Years Ago
The Tennessee Bureau of Investigation headquarters was up on a lonely hill overlooking the city. Their parking lot had one of the best views in Nashville. Skyscrapers shone in the sky, their glass reflecting the sun, enhanced by the Cumberland River meandering through downtown. From the Titans’ stadium to the Batman Building to the courthouse and Shelby Street Bridge, the city’s best face was revealed.
Josh Hamilton sat in the parking lot for a solid twenty minutes, trying to get up the courage to go inside, each one of those twenty minutes examining the gorgeous view before him, wondering if it would be the last time he could see the world as a free man.
It was a cool fall evening. The trees were just beginning to turn—the vista before him was sprinkled with crimson and pumpkin and fiery gold, a palette fit for an artist’s brush. He loved this town. Loved his city. Loved his ties to the community—to Vanderbilt, to Aubrey. And here he was, about to toss away all that he held dear in the hopes that he could unfetter himself and spend the rest of his life in actual freedom.
It might not work. It was entirely possible that when he marched through those doors and announced that he had been helping provide OxyContin to Nashville’s elite, he would be signing his own death warrant. Derek Allen was an unpredictable, mercurial man with a hair-trigger temper. Josh knew without protection he’d be dead. But he had to try. He had to do something. He couldn’t live like this anymore.
The deal they’d struck had been working well for both of them. Allen got his pills; Josh got his money for school. He was good at what he did, and Derek Allen had come to rely on him as his main supplier. But now he wanted more, and Josh saw the path to his own personal hell—jail, divorce, public humiliation, because they would get caught, they absolutely would—unfolding before him. Even if it cost him everything, he had to put an end to this. Allen was insane and unpredictable, and damn if he was going to let the man ruin him anymore.
Allen deciding to get bigger, spread out, recruit more pharmacists to skim and doctors to write false prescriptions was one thing. But last week, the paper had done an exposé on drug abuse in the medical system, specifically targeting hospital pharmacies. In response, Vanderbilt announced that, in order to prevent these kinds of problems, they were about to change over their drug distribution to a robotic distribution method, which meant a complete audit of every pill in the system for the past three years. They would come up drastically short. There would be an investigation. Though they’d been very careful, Josh and Bob and Allen could get wrapped up in it, and then he’d be totally screwed.
Josh had to protect himself. He had to get his life back. He had to turn them in, rat them out, and maybe, just maybe, he could save himself. He was desperate.
And desperate men do stupid things.
He took in one last deep breath, then climbed from the car and started toward the doors.
Derek Allen stepped out of the vehicle next to him. Josh thought his heart might stop.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my erstwhile doctor. Having second thoughts, are we?”
“Leave me alone, man. I’m just looking at the view.”
“In the parking lot of the TBI? Bullshit. Get back in your car, now. There’s work to be done.”
Josh felt panic stream through him. “Not anymore. I’m out.”
Allen laughed. “You’re out, huh?”
“Yes. I don’t want to work with you anymore. And if you don’t let me go, I’m going in that building and telling them everything.”