DON'T DIE

By Don Potter

Fentanyl-laced cocaine almost kills Madison Avenue ad agency executive Katie McFarland. Her husband, Mac, an investigative reporter and author, is determined to disrupt the flow of deadly fentanyl, manufactured in China and smuggled into the United States by Mexican drug cartels. The drug contacts Mac developed are murdered, and he focuses on helping his wife face her addictions – a greater challenge than he ever imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350905533

Book preview

1

Mac McFarland was getting dressed for dinner when he heard a thud, followed by a groan coming from the bathroom. He pushed open the door to find his wife Katie lying unconscious on the floor. He tried to revive her, but she did not respond. He called 911. Katie’s face was pale, her skin clammy and her breathing was shallow. She made a gurgling sound as Mac forced air into her lungs by rhythmically pressing on her chest. He cried, Don’t die, and continued his efforts until the paramedics arrived.

The first question they asked was if she used drugs. Mac responded, Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?

The lead paramedic answered, Because there’s a brown vial on the counter by the sink. Looks like it might contain cocaine. Problem is these days it could be laced with fentanyl. We’re giving your wife a dose of naloxone and pumping her with oxygen. That ought to bring her around. What if it’s something else? Naloxone won’t hurt her if it’s not an opioid problem. You did a good job helping to maintain her breathing until we got here. Once she’s stabilized, we’ll take your wife to the hospital for observation. I’ll bag up that vial and the lab will analyze the contents.

I can’t believe this whole thing. We were getting ready to go to an advertising awards dinner. Never had any idea drugs were involved. Never.

Users have ways of hiding their drug habits, especially occasional ones. Think back and you may recall changes in her behavior. Things like mood swings.

Mac shook his head in disbelief as he watched the paramedics bring the woman he loved back to a semblance of normalcy.

What happened? Who are these men? Cops? Katie asked as her breathing heightened and color returned to her face. She attempted to get up from the floor.

Stay as you are. Please don’t move. We’ll be taking you to the hospital over on First Avenue. It’s not far.

There’s no need for that, Katie was emphatic. I feel fine. You said my pulse, blood pressure and breathing are back to where they should be. We have an awards dinner to attend, and this mishap has made us late.

The paramedic was about to respond when Mac jumped in. Sorry, dear, but you’re going to the hospital. We need to find out what caused this mishap, as you call it.

I was nervous about whether the agency would win any creative awards tonight. You know this has been a concern of mine for weeks, so I took a little something to perk me up.

And, it almost killed you. We’re going to the hospital for your own good, Mac said, putting an end to the discussion.

When the ambulance arrived at Mount Sinai Beth Israel, Katie was moved onto a gurney and taken to the emergency room. Mac followed with an overnight bag containing a few essentials he hastily packed while the paramedics worked on her.

The bag with the little brown bottle containing an unknown substance was given to the admitting nurse, and Katie was wheeled to a curtained-off area to wait for a doctor to examine her. Mac stood by his wife’s side and held her hand.

I feel foolish dressed in an evening gown.

Being in a tuxedo isn’t considered regular attire around here either. I wouldn’t worry about how you’re dressed. Pretty soon you’ll be in an attractive hospital gown with the back open. Then you’ll be just like everyone else. He laughed. The best she could do was offer a faint smile.

Time passed quietly and slowly while they waited for the doctor. Upon arrival, he did not introduce himself and got right to the point. "You inhaled cocaine laced with a small amount of fentanyl. It’s fortunate your husband was there to keep you breathing until the first responders arrived to administer

naloxone. Is this your first fentanyl overdose?"

What are you accusing me of?

You ingested cocaine, which was cut with fentanyl. The lab report shows this is what could have killed you. Let me ask the question another way. How often do you use cocaine?

Katie began to weep and said, I only use it when things get me down and become too difficult to deal with.

How often is that?

"Guess it’s been more frequent, lately. I was depressed after my father’s death last year. A friend of mine told me she used coke to get out of depression.

She let me try some, and it helped."

So you started a year ago?

No, it’s more like six months.

And usage has been escalating since then?

Yes. I started using it every day just to cope, but I planned to stop. Tonight was going to be the end of it. I don’t want to depend on that stuff anymore.

If you’ve been a daily user, you’re addicted to cocaine whether you know it or not. The good news is we can detox you here and get you back on the road to recovery, the doctor said and left.

Katie turn her head away from Mac in shame. He was relieved she was alive and could be treated but feared what the future might bring.

2

It was almost midnight and no one had come to take Katie to her room. All was deadly quiet, until Mac’s phone rang. It was Dan Kaufman, the ad agency’s creative director. Is everything all right? he asked. When Katie didn’t show up at the event, I tried her phone several times and left messages. Didn’t find your number until I got home. What’s going on?

Mac covered the phone with both hands and whispered, It’s Kaufman. He wants to know why we were a no-show.

Katie took the phone and said, "Ate some bad sushi. Got sick enough to come to the hospital. I’ll be here overnight but should be okay in the morning.

Did we get any awards?"

We were out of the running on all our submissions. I thought we had a couple of sure winners. The judges seem to have their favorite agencies, and we’re not one of them, Kaufman said.

She shot back, Maybe it’s the work and not the judges.

That’s a discussion for another day. The important thing is you’re okay.

I’ll be fine. Need a little rest after my ordeal. Once I get home you’ll hear from me. The executive committee can keep an eye on things until I get back to the office. She handed the phone back to Mac and ran her hand across her throat to signal it was time to end the call.

Thanks for calling, Dan. Give Katie a little time to recuperate and she’ll get back to you. He quickly ended the call before Dan could ask what hospital Katie was in.

I want to leave this place, right now, Katie demanded.

They want to make sure there are no after effects.

You mean they want to watch for drug withdrawal complications. I was not using all that much coke, and the fentanyl thing was an accident.

"An accident that could have killed you. If they want you to stay for observation, that’s what you’ll do. There’s nothing more to discuss.

A nurse came in and heard what Mac said. Then added, If you want to overcome your drug habit, it’s important to spend a few days with us.

You’re treating me like some kind of criminal. I can go home whenever I want.

Katie, these people only want to help you. Please do as they suggest.

I’ll stay overnight and that’s it.

The nurse was carrying a tray and placed it on the table next to the bed. She picked up the hypodermic needle and gave Katie a shot. This will make you feel better and allow you to sleep through the night. Ready to go to your room?

I guess so, Katie said as she nodded off.

We’ll monitor your wife through the night. Contrary to what she wants, it’s best if she gets into our drug rehab program immediately, the nurse said as an attendant arrived to wheel her to a room. Don’t think she wants to be here. Do you have an outpatient program? Mac asked.

That would not be something we would recommend. It’s best if someone who overdosed recovers in a controlled environment.

Is there a doctor I could speak with about this? The rehab center opens at eight in the morning. You can call them or come back to the hospital and talk with a counselor about how best to handle your wife’s recovery.

Mac wanted more answers but decided it would be better to address his questions in the morning after he had some sleep and his emotions were under control. He thanked the nurse for her help, kissed Katie on the forehead and took a cab home.

The night doorman tipped the bill of his cap to greet Mac and said, Hope it’s nothing serious with Mrs. McFarland, going to the hospital in an ambulance and all is scary.

She’s going to be just fine. Should be home soon. Mac kept the conversation short and vague. He walked to the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief. Once the door to their co-op was closed, a chill raced down his spine as if to signal there was more to come. He turned on the lights, quickly poured a stiff drink and went out to the terrace where he wrapped himself in a blanket to stay warm in the chilly late October night air.

After gazing off into space for several minutes, he recollected the events of the evening and made notes, hoping to make sense out of what was happening with Katie.

Then he rethought the past year from when Katie’s father died to the activities surrounding his recent novel THE COVID CONNECTION, including the bullet wound Katie suffered when the investigation was nearing an end. The process ended with the conversation he had with Katie just before leaving the hospital an hour ago.

How could Katie keep her drug use from him? Was he at fault somehow? If he had known, would he have been able to keep her from overdosing? Was there a way to hide Katie’s problem from others in order not to embarrass her? Will she be able to stop using drugs and return to a normal life? These and many more questions whirled through his already exhausted mind.

Mac finished his drink and fell into bed.

3

The morning sun pierced through the sheer curtains in the bedroom. As the stream of light danced across Mac’s face, he opened his eyes and stretched before looking to the other side of the bed. If Katie was there, then last night was just a bad dream. She was not there. Everything that transpired the night before was real.

He quickly gathered himself and went to the kitchen to make some much needed coffee. He sat down with a mug and reviewed the notes from last night. He did not have enough information to develop a theory, let alone draw a conclusion other than his wife might be an addict and needed help.

It was too early to call the rehab center, so he gulped down a second mug of coffee and took a long, hot shower. Then he dressed and waited until it was time to call the hospital. Mac asked for the program’s director but was transferred to an assistant. They talked briefly and made an appointment to meet in her office at ten that morning.

He retrieved Katie’s phone from her purse and scrolled through the contact list to see if that would jog his memory as to which of her friends might also be using cocaine. Nothing rang a bell, so he decided to take the phone to the hospital and see Katie before the meeting.

It was a beautiful day and he walked the few blocks to the hospital. The fresh air cleared his mind and leave him refreshed. He needed that before taking on the next chapter in Katie’s drug story.

Her room was on the second floor in the back of the hospital. He got off the elevator and immediately was at the nurses’ station. Unlike other hospitals he had been in, the hallways were closed and admittance was allowed only when a nurse behind the enclosed counter pushed the buzzer to let someone in.

I’m here to see Katie McFarland, Mac said. Your name and relation to the patient? the woman asked in a tone more like a police desk sergeant than a nurse.

He gave her the information. Then she asked for some identification. He complied and asked, Why the tight security?

This is a drug rehab facility. Please empty your pockets and put the contents in this envelope. Write your name on it and seal it. I’ll take it and your jacket, which will be returned when you leave. This is like a prison, he said as his facial expression showed concern.

It’s for the patients’ protection. Takes a while for the craving to go, so we want to be sure drugs are not brought in by visitors. I’ll buzz you in. Your wife is in room 212.

He knocked on the partially closed door and popped his head in. Katie was crying and seemed to be gasping for breath. She looked up and said, Oh, it’s you.

Good morning. Did you sleep all right?

Guess you could call it sleep. Whatever they shot me up with put me out for the night.

Do you remember what happened that caused you to end up here? What is this, a test?

No, dear. I just want to be sure we’re on the same page when we discuss how to deal with your drug problem.

"I don’t have a problem. The coke thing is over and the fentanyl issue was simply a freak accident.

When can I get out of here?"

Have to ask the doctor about that.

Did you bring my phone? Got to call all the exec committee members to be sure they all know about the bad sushi and tell them I’ll be back and running the ship in a couple of days.

They confiscated the phone when I came in.

Let me use yours.

They took that too.

What is this, a concentration camp?

Hospital regulations. This is the drug rehab section. Different rules apply to keep the patients safe from drugs.

They thought you were smuggling drugs in here for me?

Just a precaution.

Get me out of here this minute!

I have a meeting with the head of the rehab program in a few minutes but wanted to check on you first. Let’s see what she has to offer and then talk with a doctor about the next step.

Nothing to talk about. Come back with the release form and take me home.

I’ll see what I can do. In the mean time I was wondering which one of your friends introduced you to cocaine. You know, the one that had depression.

It was my assistant, Venus Brown. But don’t you dare call her. I don’t want to get her in trouble.

She started you on the stuff that took you down a path that almost killed you. I want some answers from her.

Like what?

Who was selling the stuff to you?

Why don’t you ask me?

Okay, who supplied the cocaine to you?

Venus Brown sold it to me. Her husband lost his job, and dealing drugs provides them with some much-needed money.

Mac tried not to react. Got that meeting. I’ll be back.

4

Mac kissed Katie’s cheek and rushed down the hall, rattled the gate and was buzzed out. After retrieving his personal items, he went to the main lobby and asked to see the woman he was scheduled to meet. Sheila Bernstein was a pleasant woman of about 35. While somewhat overweight, she had a beautiful face with sparkling eyes framed by jet-black hair and was impeccably dressed. Sheila looked out of place for the role of counselor in a drug rehab center. She greeted Mac and escorted him to her tiny office. As they walked along the hallway, she said, I understand you visited your wife this morning. How is she feeling today?

Last night’s ordeal was not easy for her.

Shame and remorse over one’s behavior wipes out all the good intentions a person might have.

Katie’s upset over being here and wants to go home now that she has decided cocaine has no place in her life. The fentanyl issue was something she had no control over.

Is that what she told you?

In so many words, yes.

Her use of cocaine doesn’t scare you?

"I don’t think scare is the right word. My wife is a strong woman. If Katie says she’s finished with the

stuff, that’s good enough for me."

Willpower may not be good enough.

Katie is not an addict. Never saw her loaded on anything. I didn’t even know she was using cocaine.

Until last night. Being unaware of her drug use does not mean she doesn’t have a problem.

What are you suggesting?

Self-rehabilitation rarely succeeds. A few weeks, even months, of not using is no guarantee the underlying craving has been eliminated. If life situations caused a person to start using drugs as a way out they may go back to using, because the need for relief is stronger than whatever good intentions they may have.

It was the fentanyl that damn near killed her.

How can she know that whatever she buys on the street won’t be laced with fentanyl? Next time it could be a higher dose of this poison, and you might not be around to save her.

If you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a good job.

Just telling you what could be in store down the road.

What can I do to help my wife?

Put her in our drug rehab program.

Katie won’t go for that. She has a business to run.

Is the business more important than her life?

It is her life.

Addicted to her work?

Big job. Lots of responsibilities. You can’t be successful by being a casual CEO.

And a little bump of cocaine helps her to handle the rigors of the business world. I heard that excuse before.

What do you know about the business world? Mac had gone from being uncomfortable with the conversation to a state of controlled anger. People from every walk of life have a few drinks to take the edge off. Others use prescription drugs to balance things out. Cocaine might be what works for Katie.

Are you willing to enable her drug use?

Don’t twist my words.