Page 55 of Chosen Path
“Oh, yes! Doctor Blanchet, thank you for calling. Doctor Hart is with a, uh, patient at the moment, but I’m her assistant. She’s trying to reach Derek Wolf, who we understand was a patient of yours.” Hope figured everything she said was technically true. Corrine had been Molly’s patient, and Hope was helping Molly. Still, she felt vaguely slimy misleading the doctor.
“Ah, Derek was a patient, yes. But no longer.”
“Do you happen to have current contact information for him?”
There was a pause. When he spoke again, the charming French accent vanished and his voice hardened. “Young lady, it’s highly improper to ask me such a thing. What is Doctor Hart’s business with Mr. Wolf?”
His mother died?It had the benefit of being true, but would it justify disclosing Derek’s information?
Think.
In a flash, she saw the three bottles of insulin. Someone had put them back in the refrigerator. She’d seen them when she’d gotten out the milk for her coffee.
“There’s been a mix-up with a mail-order pharmacy delivery, and insulin that Doctor Hart believes was meant for Mr. Wolf was delivered to his mother’s address here in Vermont.”
Also true, she thought, with a vague sense of triumph.
“That cannot be.”
“Derek is diabetic, though? Doctor Hart has taken over Doctor Larson’s practice, who treated Derek when he lived here.”
“Oui, oui,I know Doctor Larson and his copious patient notes. And,oui,Derek has diabetes, but he would not be receiving insulin in the mail, and certainly not in the States.”
She waited.
“Derek emigrated to Montreal several years ago, just after his uncle passed away. He gets his insulin at a much more reasonable price there, you see? In fact, I believe it is entirely free until his twenty-fifth birthday.”
“Oh. I do see. I wonder how the pharmacy could have made such a mistake?”
“I do not know, of course, but surely his mother can contact them and let them know.”
“Uh, right.” Now she just sounded stupid.
“Is that all?”
“Yes, thank you, doctor.”
“De rien—it was nothing. Good day, and good luck with the pharmacy.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She hung up the phone and tapped her fingers on the desk for a moment. In for a dime, in for a dollar. She went to the kitchen and retrieved the package from the trash to find the pharmacy’s return address. A few keystrokes later, she had a telephone number.
She sat behind the old desk and punched in the digits, then listened to the automated message:
“Thank you for calling RxPost. For new prescriptions, please press one. If your order is late, please press two. For refills, please press three. If you are calling from a doctor’s office, please press four.”
Hope pressed four. She was, after all, calling from a doctor’s office.
“Provider support. This is Kelly. How may I help you today?”
“Hi, Kelly. This is Hope, calling from Doctor Hart’s office in Scandia Bluff, Vermont.”
“What can I do you for, Hope?” Kelly asked. She had a broad midwestern accent.
“One of Doctor Hart’s patients received a package of insulin that Doctor Hart hadn’t prescribed. We’re wondering if there was a mix-up with another order, perhaps?”
“Oh, my, that’s not good. Let’s see. Could you give me Doctor Hart’s provider number and the patient’s name so I can look it up?”
