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ordered.

    “ I should never have
prescribed oxy,” the physician blurted out. “That guy came in with
a nasty gash to his torso. I stitched him up and prescribed
hydrocodone. He said he was allergic to it.” The doctor was silent
for a moment before adding, “It was a jagged wound, could have been
self-inflicted now that I think about it. Cancel the order and call
the police.”

    I agreed and hung up. I
mentally reviewed company policy as stated in the handbook. “When presented with a suspected forged
prescription, call the police if you can. Always be discreet and
keep yourself safe
.”

    Feeling isolated, I glanced toward the
patient waiting area. The man was staring at me. I smiled, he
smiled and I could taste bile and stomach acid burning my throat. I
managed to shout out, “Got you covered. Take a seat and I’ll have
it out in about 10 minutes.” He nodded and sat in one of the
customer chairs opposite the counter.

    Moving to the computer, I pretended to
process the order. I stopped abruptly, as if a call had just come
in, and answered a dead line. I slowly dialed 911, identified
myself and quietly reported, “I’ve got a forged prescription in
progress and need immediate assistance.”

    The 911 operator took pertinent
information and said, “Stall for time. The streets are slick and
all police cruisers in the area are dispatched to traffic
accidents.” She promised to redirect one as soon as
possible.

    About that time a familiar customer
walked up to the counter. She was a nurse from one of the hospital
ER’s, a different one from where the forgery originated. Usually
with dark circles under her eyes from a long night, she’d come in
to shop and wind down from her shift before heading home. After
several times of merely waving, we started talking and became
friends.

    She brushed rain out of her hair and
asked, “How’s it going tonight, Sam?”

    I looked from her to the forger and got
back with the 911 operator. “Please hurry. He’s staring at me and
I’ve got another customer here.” I disconnected and walked up to
the nurse. “Hi, Mary. I didn’t hear you come in.”

    “ Yeah, I waved but you
didn’t look up.”

    “ I’m kind of busy right
now.” I turned toward the forger. He seemed to be concentrating on
my every word. “I have to take care of this patient.”

    She glanced over her shoulder toward
the man. “I have a quick question for the pharmacist.” She looked
back at me. “How strong are these asthma inhalers you have out
front here? My son’s running out of his prescription and I forgot
to ask one of the docs to write a new one.” She nodded toward the
front door. “With this rain, I’d hate to go back for a
script.”

    “ I don’t think they’d be
strong enough from what you’ve told me about his asthma. I could
call one of your ER docs and take a phone order.”

    She smiled and pulled a card from her
pocket. “Call this doc. He’s a friend. He’ll be happy to give you
the order.” She wrote the name of the inhaler her son was using on
the back of the card. “I’ll browse the aisles while I wait.” She
turned toward the forger. “Sorry to jump ahead.” She took a closer
look at the man and asked, “Are you okay? You look pale. Maybe you
should use that blood pressure machine over there to check your
vitals.”

    He shrugged but didn’t say anything.
Mary raised an eyebrow and stared at the man for a moment longer
before walking off to shop.

    I looked toward the guy and grinned. He
asked, “How much longer, man?” He held his side and winced. He
appeared to lose focus.

    “ Maybe you should check your blood
pressure. Are you feeling light-headed?”

    “ I’m fine. Just fill the
prescription, okay?”

    “ I’ll get right on it.” I
moved to my computer and continued the pretense of processing his
order. At the same time, I wedged the phone between my ear and chin
and dialed 911 again. I got a different operator. I explained