Dr. Carlson hesitated, then forced a smile. "My patients are very particular when it comes to the care of their animals.Oftentimes, they want the best, most effective medication. If a client asks for a specific medication, I will do my best to accommodate requests, within applicable law."
"So, you’re willing to prescribe whatever these women ask for," I said.
Dr. Carlson chuckled. "You’re putting words in my mouth, Deputy. We’re talking about beloved older pets. These animals can't speak for themselves. Somebody has to be their advocate. No one knows them better than their owners. These animals are more than just pets. They are trusted companions and members of the family. We owe it to them to keep them comfortable as the end draws near."
“I understand. I love my pets. I’d do anything for them.”
He took a breath. "I'm not running a pill mill here, gentlemen. I'm merely trying to serve my clients with dignity. Feel free to look at my records and prescriptions. You'll find nothing out of order. How my clients manage medication outside of the office is beyond my control."
There was a long silence.
"I take it there's more to the story than you're telling me,” Dr. Carlson continued.
"Like I said, the toxicology report hasn't come back yet, but I suspect it will find alcohol, cocaine, oxycodone, and Xanax in her system."
Dr. Carlson frowned and shook his head. "That can be a lethal combination. No doubt about it.”
“Were you aware of Whitney’s recreational drug use?”
10
“Whitney wasn’t my patient,” Dr. Carlson said. “Diesel was. I didn’t discuss Whitney’s personal life with her during visits.”
“What did you discuss?”
"We discussed the health and well-being of Diesel.”
I gave him a doubtful look. "Never anything more?”
Dr. Carlson's eyes narrowed at me. "What exactly are you getting at?"
"She was an attractive woman,” I said.
"Whitney was indeed. But I'm a happily married man. I would never violate my marriage or a patient's trust like that.”
"But you’d prescribe her pain and anti-anxiety medicine.”
"I prescribed those for her dog," he said in a clear voice. “If that's all, gentlemen, I have patients I need to attend to." Dr. Carlson stood up. That was our cue to leave.
I wasn't done just yet. "Did you ever see Whitney outside of the office?”
His face grew tight. "It’s a small island. I bumped into Whitney from time to time.”
"I bet you did," Jack muttered.
Carlson shot him a look. "What are you implying, Deputy?"
Jack shrugged.
"Did you ever visit Whitney at her house?" I asked.
Dr. Carlson shifted, and his face tensed. "From time to time, I will make a house call in emergency situations."
"Was there ever an emergency at the Hollingsworth residence?"
He breathed in deep through his nostrils, growing agitated. "I don't recall the circumstance, but I believe I have been to the residence once or twice before." Dr. Carlson's brow wrinkled. "I'm sorry, but do you suspect some kind of foul play?"
I smiled. "Just trying to get a sense of the bigger picture. That's all."
