“Its Terry Nielson.” Ted replied. “She may have overdosed.”
Dr. Welborn walked around and to the head of the bed. He didn’t have to do more than look to know that Terry was gone. He felt for a pulse and found none. On the night stand was an open prescription bottle. Dr. Welborn recognized the prescription as being one that he had written several months ago. Terry had been in an auto accident and suffered whiplash. He had seen her a couple of times and after a month found her pain free and released her return to work.
“I proscribed her pain pills three months ago when I saw her after an automobile accident.” He stated. The thought that he was somehow responsible for her death intruded its way into his mind. She had been his patients, he had proscribed the pills, and now she was dead and maybe from an overdose.
Dr. Welborn bent over and looked into the opened bottle. In the bottom he saw circular white pills. ”Wait a second.” Dr. Welborn frowned. “These aren’t right.” He picked up the bottle, shaking it slightly. “I prescribed her oblong, yellow pills—marked 36 10. These… these are white and round. “
“Somethings wrong.” He stated. “ These are not the pills that she got from me.”
“Do you recognize the what the pills are? Are they Fentanyl?” Ted asked.
“I have no idea. They could be anything.” Welborn replied.
Ted and Dr Welborn fell into the mechanics of the job. Things needed to be done, procedures needed to be followed. It was their job and they put aside their personal feelings. After collecting evidence and taking pictures, the body was placed in a plastic bag. Ted stood and watched as the zipper was closed and Terry’s face disappeared.
On the drive back to Eden Ted’s thoughts were about Terry. It was easy for him to imagine that it was his daughter, lying dead in that house. They grew up together, they went to school together, had the same friends. The weight of it all pressed down on him, suffocating. His hands trembled on the wheel as he veered onto the shoulder. The first sob hit him like a gut punch, then another. He buried his face in his hands and let go. For Terry. For her mother. For the town that was losing too many, too soon
Ted struggle to compose himself. He had work to do. Accidental overdose or murder—he wasn’t sure yet. But someone had given Terry those pills, and if they were illegal, that someone had blood on their hands
If the drugs were illegal, whoever supplied them could be held responsible for her death. An investigation was required. The Coroner would do an autopsy to determine cause of death and a tox screen would be part of the process. It could be weeks before the results were in. He put the car in gear and headed back to Eden, back home.
* * *
“Honey, I’m home.” Ted calls out as he walks through his kitchen door.
“In here.” Came from the den. Mary appears in the kitchen and hugged Ted hello.
Mary infers from Ted manor and asked. “Rough day at the office?”
“Yeah… I went to check on Terry Neilson today. Found her in her bed. She was gone.”
“My God, little Terry. What happened?”
“We don’t know for sure. It may have been an overdose. Dr. Welborn thinks the pills weren’t legit, but we won’t have confirmation for weeks.”
“Have you told your daughters?
“No… every time I picked up the phone, I just… I couldn’t. It could’ve been one of them, Mary. It
could’ve been our girl lying in that bed.”
“I know, I’ll go and tell them., They’re down stairs.”
“Mary disappeared down the stairs. Ted listened—muffled voices, then silence. When she returned, her hands were trembling. Her eyes, red and swollen, locked onto his. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.” Ted looked at her and wrapped her in his arms. They stood in their kitchen and wept together. That night, they sat together in the dim glow of the living room, flipping through old photos, reliving the camping trips, the ball games, the laughter. Terry’s voice still echoed in their memories—so full of life. Ted held his daughters a little tighter that night, the weight of what could have been pressing heavy on his chest.”