Nerves of Steel Read Online Free PDF Page A

smiled at her again.  He had a skier's tan with pale rims where his goggles would fit and an athletic build.  "No, sorry.  Fentephex is shipped directly from the manufacturer to the distribution site, no middle man."
    So much for that theory , she thought as Fran returned. 
    Gary Krakov, the pharmacy director, popped out of his office like Alice's White Rabbit, his red bow tie centered precisely, the cuffs of his white shirt pressed and starched.  He frowned at Cassie, one finger stabbing his glasses up against the bridge of his nose.
    "Dr. Hart, despite these temporary facilities," he intoned, "may I remind you that we are still running a pharmacy here."  Krakov glared at her mud-splattered Vasque boots, her equally stained navy blue Nomex flight suit and leather jacket.  Then he turned his gaze on Fran.  "I'm certain you have more important things to do than hosting a coffee klatch, Ms. Weaver."
    Cassie slid from the desk to confront the prickly pharmacist.  "Fran is helping me find--"
    Fran pinched her arm, and Cassie broke off.  "Find a dosing protocol for patients with antibiotic resistant organisms," Fran finished, pulling a stack of order sheets overtop the bag of FX.
    "She can find that in the pharmacology database just like every other physician in the hospital," Krakov said.  "There's no need to waste your time." 
    "You're absolutely right, Mr. Krakov."  Fran took the director's arm and walked him over to where Neil Sinderson waited.  "Neil just needs you for a moment to sign in these narcotics."
    Fran returned to her desk, clearing the screen with the FX information before Krakov could see it.  "Are you trying to get me fired?  Fentephex is a controlled substance.  If he saw that much laying out in the open instead of under lock and key, he'd go nuts."
    She slid the bag containing Jane Doe's drugs back across the desk with the tip of her pen as if it was contaminated.
    "I need to find out who stole these, how Jane Doe got them," Cassie protested, shoving the bag into her coat pocket.
    "I told you, all of our stock is accounted for.  If there is any fentephex missing, it's police business," Fran said in a low voice.  "You should let them deal with it."
    "Easy for you to say.  You're not the one who has to face the families of the patients I've lost."  Cassie's voice rose enough to draw Neil Sinderson's gaze her way as he and Krakov stood at the narcotics safe in the far corner. 
    "I can't violate patient confidentiality, and you know it."
    "I'm not asking you to.  Just see if there's any way to track down exactly where this FX was stolen from."
    "You don't even know if it was stolen.  Besides, Mr. Krakov will fire me if he finds out."
    Cassie waved her hand, dismissing Krakov and setting Fran's Mario Lemieux bobble-head nodding.  "Inventory control is part of your job.  That's all I'm asking, that you track some missing inventory.  You'll just be doing your job.  No worries."
    Fran's eyebrows lowered into a frown. "Right.  Unless Mr. Krakov catches me doing it on his time."
    "You want to come up to the ICU and tell that to my Jane Doe?" Cassie flattened her palm against the desk, leaning forward to meet her friend's eyes with an imploring gaze.  It was hitting below the belt, but she didn't care.  Not if there was more FX out on the street, coming from her own hospital.
    Fran blew her breath out, glanced over her shoulder at Krakov, and nodded.  "Anyone ever tell you that you don't play by the rules?"
    "All the time--drives the charge nurses crazy."  For the first time since that morning, the tension hunching her shoulders eased.  "Thanks, Fran, I appreciate it.  You could be saving lives here."
    "And losing my job."
    Fran was over-reacting.  Even Krakov would admit that stopping the FX thefts was more important than following hospital protocol.  She squeezed Fran's shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile.  "If you get in trouble, just blame me."
    "Don't worry.  I