“He said it was fever syrup her doctor prescribed,” I said.

Gary turned to his keyboard and typed Chloe’s name into the regional patient database.

The fast clicking bounced off the low ceiling tiles.

“There’s no record of any liquid fever medicine filled for Chloe Miller,” Gary said, angling the screen a bit toward me.

“Not this week, and not anytime in the past six months.”

“Are you certain?” I asked.

“Could it have been phoned in to another drugstore?”