Page 73 of Crow's Haven
The hospital lobby erupts into chaos as we burst inside. Nurses scatter from the front desk, charts dropping to the floor, forgotten. Security guards shout into radios, confusion painted across their faces. Harper strides ahead confidently, flashing her badge, never breaking pace. I hurry to keep up with her, the rhythmic thud of our footsteps echoing sharply on the tile.
One of the security guards tries to deny us entry, but two of Harper’s agents have him bent forward over his own security desk and handcuffed within seconds. They are not messing around this morning.
Her agents move around the building, pouring through their assigned doors. Their badges and the copies of the search warrant assure the staff’s compliance.
It’s too early for the CEO to be here, so there is just the nighttime administrator. When he comes running, Agent Harper hands him the hospital’s copy of the official search warrant and he has no other choice than to comply.
He struggles to keep up as we move swiftly through the mostly empty halls towards the pharmacy. Other agents are all heading for locked med rooms, stationary cabinets, and mobile carts.
Down the hallway, hospital staff crowd doorways, whispering furiously, some pointing in my direction. I feel their eyes on me, wide, confused, and judgmental. I no longer care what they think. I keep my chin up, gaze fixed firmly forward.I’m not hiding anymore because I have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not here to be judged. I’m here to help see justice done.
Behind us, Agent Martin leads a separate team, barking rapid-fire instructions as he moves purposefully towards the administrative wing. His team fans out, swiftly securing the offices of the CEO, Director of Nursing, and hospital attorney. The doors bang open, papers scatter, computers confiscated. A voice calls for cooperation, sharp and commanding. I hear muffled protests, angry shouts of disbelief. The reckoning is finally happening.
My stomach flips as we reach the nurses’ station outside the critical care unit. Familiar faces stare back at me, mouths agape. The charge nurse, Brenda, looks between Harper and me, confusion etched deeply across her usually composed features.
“Nurse Carlin?” Brenda stammers, eyes wide. “What are you doing here? You were fired. That means you’re not allowed on hospital property. I’m going to have to inform security.”
I pause just a moment, lifting my chin and meeting her stunned gaze directly. “I didn’t do what this hospital accused me of, Brenda,” I say clearly, loudly enough for all to hear. “But I know who did. We have proof now.”
Brenda blinks, her confusion shifting quickly to concern as Harper holds up her badge and says sternly, “Ms. Carlin is assisting the DOJ. I’m going to need you to step back. You’re interfering in an official investigation.”
“I’m the charge nurse for the night shift. What’s going on here?”
“We’re here to ask questions, not answer them. If you want more information, ask your hospital administrator.”
We keep going to the far side of the hospital, abruptly outside the pharmacy. Pointing to the door, I say, “I know exactly what we’re looking for and where it would be stored. If it’s in there, I’ll find it.”
Harper turns to the night administrator, who’s currently looking like he wished he’d called in sick. “Open it.”
Something about the authority in her voice makes him comply immediately. Once the door is open, I rush inside and grab the key to the medicine cabinets out of the pharmacist’s desk drawer. She’s not supposed to leave them unattended like that, but she forgot them at home one too many times and decided leaving them at work was the better option.
I quickly check all the bottom cabinets first because that’s where we store the IV bags.
Harper hovers over my shoulder. “Do you see it?”
I keep running my fingers over the batch numbers on each case, but nothing matches the batch number of the contaminated bag my patient was given. “No, it’s not here.”
I quickly open all the medication cabinets to be sure but find nothing. “It’s not here. We need to keep looking.”
We exit the pharmacy and walk off while the night administrator is locking up. We move from one med case to another until we rule them all out. Harper is talking to someone on her earpiece. “No one’s come up with anything.”
“Looks like the morgue is our next stop,” I tell her.
Several more agents join us as we head down to the morgue which is located in the basement. By now the nightadministrator has joined us again, looking even more frazzled as he swipes his ID badge.
Agent Harper gestures sharply and we all enter the room. I’ve never been in the morgue at night. Death doesn’t scare me, it’s the living who are dangerous. But still there’s something a bit unsettling.
I glance along the rows of units until I see the one at the bottom right. There’s a padlock on it.
“I think that’s where they are,” I say.
An agent swiftly steps forward and breaks through the heavy padlock. The metallic clang echoes down the silent hallway. I move closer because I’ve memorized the batch number for the IV fluids we’re seeking. Harper pulls open the door, stepping back to let me pull out the sliding drawer. I pause, reach in without messing about and pull it out.
Inside, rows of neatly stacked cases of IV bags line the long body-sized tray, clearly labeled. My breath catches as my eyes land immediately on the boxes. There are nine of them altogether and they’re clearly marked—Batch 4B-19. The tainted batch that cost my patient his life and threatened to send me to prison for life. They’ve all been used, which means these are evidence. I point firmly. “They’re here. I didn’t realize there were so many cases.”
Agent Harper nods sharply. “Tag and seize every bag from this batch,” she orders. Agents flood into the small room behind us, efficiently gathering the bags, tagging and sealing evidence containers. The sound of plastic wrapping, tape tearing, and urgent voices fills the cramped space.
I step back, breathing hard, hands trembling. Agent Harper rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You did well, Ms. Carlin.”
