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hung up on him.
    Guy was furious, and out of options. There was only one solution. He dialed the phone again, this time punching in the Chicago number from memory.
    “Dr. Daniel Long speaking.”
    “Dan, it’s Guy calling. I hate to ask, but I need a favor.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    Ross peeled off his sunglasses as he entered Southeast Memorial’s parking garage and handed his ID badge to the gate guard.
    “You’re all set,” the older man said after comparing the picture to Ross’s face twice.
    Ross pulled into one of several parking spots marked “Reserved” and checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. He looked like hell. Red rings rimmed his tired eyes and his complexion looked pale. He’d say he was sick if asked, but he wasn’t. Between pining for Sarah and what had happened with Mattie, he was an emotional wreck.
    Walking through the hospital’s main entrance, he couldn’t help feeling that all eyes were on him. Ross lowered his head and broke for the nearest elevator. He rode the car to the third floor Psychiatry Department and exited, immediately overcome by dread.
    Dr. Daniel Long stood outside the unit’s secured entrance wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses and a navy blue suit Ross knew was reserved for meeting days. His silver hair gave away his age of sixty-three years, his aging doing little to diminish his presence.
    “We need to talk,” he said in an authoritative tone that intimidated Ross from ten feet away.
    There was no question in Ross’s mind that Dan knew what he had done with Arlene Pope’s meds.
    Dan swiped his keycard and opened the unit door to the long hallway of offices preceding the unit where the patients were kept behind a second electronically locked entrance.
    “Can I set my things in my office first?”
    Dan shook his head. “It’s probably better you bring them with you.”
    “If this is about Arlene—”
    “Ross, please. I don’t want to have this conversation out here.” Dan unlocked and opened his office door, gesturing for Ross to go inside. “Have a seat.” He closed the door behind them.
    Ross’s eyes went immediately to the completed disciplinary notice on Dan’s desk.
    “I had an interesting visit this morning.” Dan said, his steely blue eyes lending a severity to his stare.
    “From who? Kallie?” After their last conversation, Ross suspected she would unburden her soul sooner than later.
    Dan didn’t confirm or deny that she had. He loosened his tie and ran his hands through the white hair at his temples. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
    Ross leaned forward in his chair, debating coming clean. It was like being pulled over for speeding. There was no right answer to the question, “Do you know how fast you were going?”
    “No, not really.”
    “Nothing?” Dan said. “About Arlene Pope and a medication switch?”
    “Arlene Pope was faking,” Ross said.
    “Arlene is a scared seventeen-year-old girl.”
    “ And a murderer.”
    “That doesn’t give you the right to refuse her medication, Ross.”
    “It does if she didn’t need it. Arlene Pope isn’t schizophrenic. There were no voices. Look at her M-FAST, at her chart—”
    “I have, and it doesn’t change anything. You’ve put me in a terrible position. Me and the hospital.”
    “By finding out the truth?”
    “By upsetting a patient to the point that she attempted suicide.”
    “What?”
    “That’s why Kallie came to talk to me. Arlene’s in the ICU after drinking from a bottle of bleach. Kallie confessed out of fear.”
    “And you forgave her in exchange for turning me in?”
    “I’m not going to discuss her disciplinary actions with you. This is about what you did.”
    “Dan, I met with Arlene’s mother yesterday. Arlene confessed. She’s guilty.”
    “Maybe, but that doesn’t change this.”
    “Where did she even get bleach?”
    “An unlocked cleaning cart on the unit.”
    “Then you should be talking to housekeeping. Incriminating Arlene