I knew the guys at work would know I was likely already working the case, but not everyone on the PD would know, so if I was spotted in Raleigh, I might get hauled in for questioning and that would not help Taylor at all.
Leaving her back there was pretty dangerous and I didn’t want to be gone any longer than absolutely necessary. About two minutes of driving brought me into Garner. Just like that, I was in a quaint town of North Carolina.
I slowed and turned into the nearest gas station and parked alongside the building. I bypassed the “No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service” sign stuck to the glass double doors and stepped inside.
There was a girl with a high ponytail behind the counter, looking bored, but as soon as she saw me, she perked up, standing up straight and giving me a onceover. I gave her a smile and wandered over to a rack of T-shirts that were hanging nearby.
They were all white, sporting red NC State University logos, with the words Wolf Pack written directly beneath. I selected an extra-large off a hanger and held it up. “You mind?”
I asked the girl. She blushed.
I pulled the shirt over my torso and then reached for the last remaining hoodie on the rack. It was a large, but at least it would be warm. I took the shirt and went toward the back where I stood in front of the selection of Gatorade, pondering what flavor Taylor might like.
Wait.
Was I seriously standing here debating over the flavor of Gatorade for some chick?
I didn’t have time for that shit.
So I reached in and pulled out about five, loading up my arms and then going into the snack isle. There wasn’t exactly a healthy selection, but I’d take what I could get. I piled some junk and some over-the-counter pain meds on top of the drinks and traipsed to the counter and dropped it all in front of the girl.
“Don’t forget the shirt I’m wearing,” I told her as she rang up everything.
She giggled and I handed over a few twenties. Once everything was in a bag, I headed down the road, not stopping until I saw the next place on my list. I parked near a side entrance, hoping I would get lucky and it wasn’t one of those doors that was an emergency exit only with one of those annoying alarms.
I bypassed it and went in the front entrance, walking right up to the counter in the center of the room. The receptionist barely looked up when I signed the log on the counter, using some made-up name.
“You need to be seen today?” she asked.
Why the hell else would I walk into an Urgent Care clinic in the middle of the day? “Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Think I might have strep.” I lied.
“Sign in,” she said, obviously not seeing me already doing so. “We’ll be with you shortly.”
I guess I wasn’t the only one lying today. She and I both knew that “shortly” meant four hours.
“Can I use the restroom?” I asked.
She pointed off to her right. “Through that door.”
Bingo. It was on the other side of the waiting room, behind the door where they called the patients back. “Thanks,” I said and headed straight toward the bathroom. On my way in, I noted the nurse’s station just two doors down from the bathroom. And across from that was the exit that I parked near.
It didn’t appear to have an alarm attached to it.
I stepped in the bathroom and took a piss. Then I washed my hands and listened against the door for any kind of movement in the hall outside. I could hear someone talking nearby and then their voice retreated and I heard a door close down the hall.
The bathroom door opened soundlessly, and I peered out, not seeing anyone nearby. Stepping out into the hall, I kept my footfalls soft as I moved stealthily across the hall into the nurse’s station. I had maybe one minute tops to get what I needed and get the hell out. The first place I went was to the white overhead cabinets hanging above a cheap countertop. Inside, I found packaged sterile syringes and various sizes of bandages. I grabbed several of everything I thought I might need and then turned to the cabinet behind me. I found several vials of amoxicillin and carefully stuffed them into my pockets. Footsteps down the hall had me grabbing handfuls of other supplies and shoving them into my hat.
A few seconds later, I was peaking into the hall, and once it was clear, I held my breath as I pushed through the side door.
My muscles were tense and ready as I waited for the piercing sound of an alarm to draw attention my way. Even if it went off, I wasn’t giving up these supplies. They wouldn’t be able to catch me before I drove away.
Thankfully, no alarm sounded, and I let out a breath. A nurse turned the corner just as the door shut and I took off for the van. I waited until I was out of the parking lot and down the street before I carefully pulled everything out of my pockets and hat and placed it into the bag with the hoodie.
The clock on the dashboard showed I’d been gone thirty minutes already. Thirty minutes that felt like a damn lifetime. Now that I had what I needed to help make Taylor comfortable, I wanted to put the pedal to the metal and get back there, but I still had one more stop to make.
There was a Dunkin Donuts down the street so I parked in the lot and went inside, getting in line. There was a kid who looked to be about college age running the register, and he looked like he really loved his job (not). When it was my turn, I walked up to the counter and ordered two dozen donuts, several coffees, and a large latte with caramel in it.
I handed over cash for the order and then dropped a ten-dollar bill in the tip jar right in front of the kid.
“Thanks,” he said, his eyes lighting up at the cash.
“You happen to have a pay phone in here?” I asked while I waited for him to fill up two flat boxes with the donuts. “My cell phone died, and if I don’t call my girlfriend and tell her when I’ll be home, she’ll give me a two-hour lecture when I get there.”
The guy snorted. “Women.” Then, he said, “Nah, we don’t have a payphone. Do they even make those anymore?”
God, how old was this kid? He’d probably never even seen a payphone before.
“Lecture it is,” I said ruefully.
The kid glanced around. “Here, you can use my cell real quick. Take it over there so my supervisor doesn’t see. I’m not supposed to have it in my pocket.”
“Sweet,” I said, taking it as he slid it across the counter.
He went off to make the coffees, and I stepped over to the corner of the restaurant, dialing Mac’s private cell phone.
Mac was the chief at the PD and I knew he was probably waiting for my call.