The young man’s round face had gone from flushed to pale. His lips tightened. “You were in here going through my inventory? What do you think…” He settled his fists on his hips in a half-hearted show of umbrage.
“It’s too late for that, Louis,” she said quietly. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
He shrugged helplessly. “What’s the ‘it,’ Estelle?”
“Let me make it crystal clear for you, Louis. You can either help us, or you can be arrested right now and try to tough it out.” She smiled without humor. “I’d sort of like to see you do that.”
She saw Herrera’s weight sag against the counter, and he closed his eyes.
“You tell me what you want to do,” she said. “Just don’t take too long to do it.”
The room was so silent that Estelle could hear her pulse. She could see Louis Herrera’s, pounding through his left carotid artery as he regarded the counter and the four little bags. Bill Gastner had finished his examination of drugs that interested him not in the least, and he stood with his hands loose at his sides, watching Herrera.
After a moment, the pharmacist appeared to reach some sort of conclusion with a little shake of his head. He drew in a long breath, one hitch halfway sounding almost like a hiccup. “This isn’t about the drugs, is it.”
“No, it’s not.”
Herrera’s right index finger traced little circles on the counter. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said, sounding pathetic. Estelle didn’t respond. “Francis had nothing to do with any of this,” Herrera said. “He didn’t.”
“I know that,” Estelle said.
“He didn’t know anything about any of it.”
“Right now, I have only two concerns,” Estelle said. “I want you out of my husband’s clinic so he can start repairing the damage you’ve done. And I want to know who killed George Enriquez.”
Herrera flinched as if he’d been struck. “I don’t know,” he whispered.
“How well do you know Owen Frieberg, Louis?”
He shook his head. “Not well…but I mean, well enough. He didn’t do it, Estelle.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“No. I guess I’m not sure of anything.” He hunched his shoulders high and held them there. “I don’t know what I know.” He let his shoulders sag. “Owen came and got the drugs just a little bit ago. He said he had tried to reach me at home, then drove by the clinic to see if I was here.” Herrera shrugged. “I’d gone out to get something to eat, so he missed me. Frieberg said that he’d driven by earlier and seen your county car parked in the lot. I told him I didn’t know anything about that, but that you’d been to see me earlier with the pharmaceutical reference, so we knew that you were on to something.” He paused and made a face. “Funny.”
“What’s funny?”
He looked up and tried to smile. “Yesterday, Francis and I were talking about the Kenderman thing, you know? About that young cop being so stupid. I remember saying to Francis, ‘I’d hate to have her after me.’ ” Herrera sighed. “And I guess you are, right?”
I’m fresh out of sympathy, Estelle wanted to say. “Owen came here and picked up the counterfeit drugs. That’s what happened?”
“Yes. He figured that we should stow them, just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
“Just in case that’s what you were after.”
“And if it wasn’t, you were going to put them all back on the shelf? Is that it?” Estelle felt the flush on her face. “Why did Frieberg call you in the first place?”
“I don’t know, Estelle. I really don’t. And I’d tell you if I did.”
“Tell me what you do know, Louis.”
“About?”
“Frieberg and Enriquez were bringing the counterfeit drugs into the country. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Where do they get them?”
“He never said. And I didn’t ask. In Mexico someplace.”
“Who else was in on this?”
Herrera shook his head vehemently. “I don’t know. I really don’t. And like I said, maybe I didn’t want to know. It could have been just them…just Owen and Enriquez. I don’t know.”
“You knew the drugs were counterfeit.”
He nodded. “But they had regular ones, too. The counterfeit part only started a few months ago.” His cheeks flamed scarlet. “Sometimes, a patient would come in, and I’d know just as well as anyone that the drugs were a waste on ’em, you know? And sometimes, the medication might be actually counterproductive. So I’d slip in a placebo.”
“Did Frieberg and Enriquez peddle the drugs to anyone else?”
“I don’t know.”
“To Guy Trombley, for example?”
“Estelle, if I knew that, I’d tell you. But I don’t. I didn’t ask, and Frieberg never said.” Lifting both hands in the air, he looked at the undersheriff beseechingly. “Tell me what to do.”
“What does Joe Tones know about all this?”
“Tones? You mean the hardware guy? How would I know anything about him? I told you…I accepted some of the pharmaceuticals from Freiberg. I knew where they came from…I mean, in general, I knew. And I knew some of them were fake. That’s it.” He held out his hands. “You gotta tell me what to do.”
“Find yourself a really good lawyer, Louis. That’s the first thing you might want to do.”
“I’ll cooperate any way I can. You know that.”
“That’s nice,” Estelle said. She chose her words carefully. “Let’s start with what Dr. Guzman would want you to do.” She didn’t add step in front of a bus, which is what she wanted Louis Herrera to do just then.
She pulled the portable radio off her belt. “Three oh three, three ten.”
Deputy Taber responded instantly. “Three oh three.”
“Three oh three, ten eighty-seven this location.”
Estelle slipped the radio back in its clip. “Louis, Deputy Taber will be here in a few minutes. She’s going to assist you in any way she can. I want a list compiled of every prescription drug, fake or not, that you received from Frieberg. Date, name, amount. And then I want a list of every patient to whom you dispensed those drugs. Every last one.”
“I don’t know if I can remember that,” Herrera said.
“If you can’t, then the computer can,” Estelle said icily. “When you’re finished here, Deputy Taber will escort you to the Public Safety Building. The information you provide from here and what you say in your deposition will determine in part what course the district attorney may wish to take against you.”
“It has to go that far?”
“Yes, it does.” She nodded as she watched him listen to the faint sound of a car door closing outside. “You’re free to take some other route if you wish.”
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“You always have a choice, Louis. But we’re not leaving you alone here.”
“You think that after all this, I’d do something to try and…” Herrera waved his hand hopelessly.
“That’s just the trouble, Louis. I don’t know what you’d do.” The door opened and Deputy Jackie Taber stepped inside. Her eyes locked on Louis Herrera, her face expressionless. “As far as I’m concerned, you have two choices,” Estelle said. “You can cooperate with us, or you can be arrested and spend the night in the lockup until Judge Hobart decides what to do with you.” She glanced at her watch. “That’s the only break I’m going to give you. And we’re wasting time.”
Herrera held up his hands. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
Estelle nodded curtly and then quickly explained to the deputy what she wanted. “And when you’re finished, you need to put a sheriff’s lock on the door. On the inside of this one,” and she nodded at the door they’d entered, “and a chain on the front doors.” She glanced at Herrera once more. “We don’t want any more surprises.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Owen Frieberg hadn’t achieved his status as Nate Salazar’s partner at Salazar and Sons Funeral Home by being uncooperative. When Frieberg opened the side door of the mortuary in response to the bell, Estelle was sure that his head-to-toe glance was a measurement. All she had to supply was her choice of ash, oak, mahogany, or walnut for the casket, brass or wrought iron handles, and satin or velvet lining.