A Taxing Death (Jill Quint, MD, Forensic Pathologist Series Book 5)

by Peche, Alec

  Christina looked at her Aunt Leticia's eyes and found what she was looking for. Her aunt had conveyed that she would take care of her mom while she left the room to make the call.

  From the large kitchen decorated in shades of grey and light green, she made the call to Amanda.

  "Hello, Department of Revenue, Amanda speaking."

  "Hi Amanda, it's Christina Valencia. Would you have a moment to talk about the events this morning?"

  "Of course. I just got my tears under control about an hour ago. So I give you fair warning that I will turn into a watering pot. I'm so sorry about the loss of your father. I loved working for him."

  "He also spoke highly of you. If I asked if he was free mid-week for dinner, he would always preface it with 'let me check with the efficient Amanda just to be sure I am free'. Then he would get back to me if you gave him the go-ahead."

  "That sounds like him. Even though he had both a paper and electronic calendar, he would check with me to verify he was available. He knew sometimes that I might be working on an evening event for him and it wouldn't be on his calendar yet. What do you want to know about this morning?"

  "As you know, I am a physician. I'm a pediatrician, but I did do adult medicine while I was in medical school. The explanation provided to my mother seemed inadequate so I am looking for more details. Can you walk me through this morning step-by-step?"

  "Sure I can walk you through. Let me just switch to another phone to make sure we are not interrupted," Amanda said as she moved to an empty conference room to continue her conversation with Christina.

  "Okay, I'm back. Your father seemed fine this morning. It was just another normal day at the office. At about eleven, two ambulance drivers arrived at this office escorted by our Capitol police force which is a division of the Highway Patrol. They told me that there had been a 9-1-1 call that originated from your father's office."

  "Did you hear my father complain in any way of not feeling well this morning?"

  "No, I was shocked by the arrival of paramedics. I had left your father's office about twenty minutes before they arrived. He was working on a speech for an event later this week and wanted thirty minutes of quiet. He said that "taxes were boring, and he would have to write an exciting speech not to put the audience to sleep'."

  "That sounds like Dad."

  Amanda sniffled and continued, "The paramedics opened the door to your father's office and I heard him say something like 'May I help you', and 'I feel fine it must have been a mistake' and then the door closed and I could only hear murmurs not actual words."

  "Dad said he was feeling fine and he didn't call 9-1-1?"

  "Yes, and then I sat transfixed at my desk trying to hear through the door, worried about your father. Then about ten minutes later the door opened and they said that Mr. Valencia had an abnormal wave and the base station had him converted, at least I think that was the word, but then his heart never restarted. Then they left saying the coroner would come for your dad. That was strange because the coroner had no record of being notified by the paramedics or the base station that they were to pick up your father."

  "This whole episode sounds strange. I didn't think that patients with a beating heart would ever convert outside of a hospital unless it was a dire emergency and this doesn’t sound like one. Amanda, pardon me for thinking out loud and thank you for telling me what happened. I'm going to do a little more research on my own about these paramedics. It won't bring back my father but at least I'll feel better understanding the situation better."

  "Please convey to your mother that my thoughts and prayers are with her and your family. If I can do anything to help, don't hesitate to call me."

  "Thanks again and I'll tell my mom that you're thinking about her."

  With that, the conversation ended and Christina leaned against the marble countertop thinking about the events of the morning. Frankly it sounded to her medical mind that they took a good heart and killed it. Her father had had a pacemaker for nearly thirty years having been diagnosed with a minor congenital heart defect in his thirties. She wanted more investigation into his death and wasn't sure where to start. Then she remembered a story in the news about a year or so ago. She did an internet search on 'young man murdered by infection.' She clicked on one of the thousands of suggested articles to read.

  She scanned through the article and came upon the physician that led the investigation. She did a further search on her and found she'd had several high profile cases in the year since the murder by infection case. She then decided she would start an investigation without her mom's knowledge. Mom had enough to worry about at the moment, and likely she was wrong about the death being suspicious. After all, the police were not involved and her father's office was not considered a crime scene. She made another call, this time to Dr. Jill Quint, MD, Forensic Pathologist. She got her answering machine and left a message. The greeting on the voicemail sounded like she would return the call shortly. Christina stood there in a trance, thinking about good times with her father, countless ways that she would miss his presence when she felt and heard her cell phone indicating that she had a call.

  "Hello, this is Christina Valencia."

  "Hi, Ms. Valencia, this is Dr. Jill Quint, you left a message earlier for me concerning your father."

  "Yes thank you for returning my call. My father passed away this morning and something seems just a little off. Dad was 62, healthy and had a pacemaker for over thirty years. Two paramedics showed up at his office this morning in response to a 9-1-1 call that no one admits to making. Dad said he was feeling fine, but the paramedics ran roughshod over him and the base station agreed he was having a weird arrhythmia and he needed to be converted on the spot and he didn't survive that cardio-version. I should mention that I am a pediatrician but I did do adult medicine in medical school. What would you do with a situation like this?"

  "Dr. Valencia, I'm sorry for your loss. This does sound unusual. Why did your father have a pacemaker?"

  "Thank you. He had a congenital heart defect that showed up in his early thirties as bradycardia. Since he got the pacemaker, other than model updates, he has had no problem with his heart. He and mom regularly hiked major strenuous trails in National Parks with no heart problems. When I spoke with his assistant at his office, she said he seemed well, and even told the paramedics that he was doing fine and didn't need their services. They asked to check his heart and now he's dead," Christina said the last words on a sob.

  "You're calling from a Sacramento number, is that where your family and your father are located?"

  "Yes my parents live in the Arden area of the city. I live in El Dorado Hills."

  "Is your father at the Sacramento County Coroner's Office?"

  "Yes."

  "He is in good hands there. Let me explain what I typically do and we can move on from there." Jill proceeded to give Christina a synopsis of her background and training, her contract terms and fees, and some of the additional services she could offer beyond just the autopsy. She also mentioned that in order to do the most for her father, then her mother, as spouse, would need to sign forms to give her access to records.

  Christina verbalized her agreement with Jill's terms as well as her comment about her mother's agreement. "Dr. Quint, I had hoped to spare my mom some grief in following up on my father's death. Now I see I need to have her agree to your engagement because it is respectful of her wishes and legally you would need her authority to move forward. Let me talk with her and I'll call you back."

  Jill sat for a few minutes in her kitchen thinking about the call. It sounded like an interesting case. It seemed like those paramedics had forced care upon a healthy man and it had caused a terrible outcome - his death. She wondered what the mother would do in this case. Often people thought that an autopsy expert meant that she needed to slice and dice a loved one's body up in order to get answers. Sometimes that was the case, other times she could get answers in other ways. Regardless if there were suspicions
about his death by Mr. Valencia's family, then for their own peace of mind, she hoped they would hire her.

  Jill Quint, MD was a full-time vintner and a part-time consultant providing second opinions on the cause of death. Her vineyard was within an hour of Sacramento in California's central valley. She had been a forensic pathologist with the state crime lab, but had left after fifteen years, tired of paperwork and legal testimony. Now she had the luxury of pursuing both of her passions – making the perfect Moscato wine and providing second opinions on the cause of death for grieving families. Best of all she had the help of her three best friends when the research for a case went beyond the autopsy. Jo Pringle was her financial wizard and could always follow the money to a motive for murder. Marie Simon could create a profile on anyone using the internet and social media to compile a complete picture. Angela Weber was her resident photographer and interviewer, and given the opportunity, she could squeeze the truth out of a CIA operative. As friends, they had known each other for over fifteen years and they had worked together on Jill’s cases part-time for the past five years. They all loved their day jobs, so it was doubtful that they would ever pursue chasing murder suspects on a full time basis.

  Jill gathered up her gloves intending to return to her vineyard and had one foot out the door when her telephone rang.

  “This is Jill Quint.”

  “Hi Dr. Quint, this is Christina Valencia. I spoke with my mother and she is onboard to hire you. How soon can you start?”

  "If I email you my contract and privacy forms, will you have them signed and returned to me today?"

  "Frankly, if you send them now, we'll get them back to you in five minutes!"

  "Great! As soon as I get your mother's signature, I'll call the Sacramento Coroner's Office to arrange a private autopsy. I will likely want to visit you and your mother before or after my visit to the Coroner's Office today."

  "We would like to meet with you as well. Let me get the forms signed and I'll get them back to you and we can make arrangements from there."

  "Great!" said Jill after she wrote down Christina's email address and they ended the call.

  Jill walked over to her computer and hit the send button with the attachments she needed signed. Then she went out to her car just to confirm the presence of her ready-to-travel autopsy kit. Everything looked good in her car trunk, so she left the garage, returning to the house, Mr. Valencia on her mind. She would have to find out where his pacemaker transmitted to and see if she could get the record of its performance. It was an interesting case. She looked over at her in-box as she passed by her computer and saw a new email from Christina. She looked at the forms and they were all signed by Anna Valencia. Good, now she had the means to contact the Coroner's office to arrange for the autopsy. She used to know many of the medical examiners in the Sacramento office, but she hadn't kept in touch after she left the state crime lab. Looking up their number, she dialed the general information number as that was usually all they handed out to the public.

  "Sacramento Coroner's Office."

  "Hello, my name is Dr. Jill Quint. I am a forensic pathologist. I would like to speak with your supervisor of forensic pathology."

  "One moment please."

  Jill listened to elevator music from the 1970's, the coroner's on-hold selection, while she imagined the conversation that was occurring between the person who answered the phone and the person she actually wanted to speak to. Depending on their availability, she thought she would be on hold for two songs or about four and a half minutes. She knew she had misjudged her estimated hold time when the music ventured into the third song; fortunately she didn't have to wait for the fourth one.

  "Hello, this is John Garcia, Supervising Deputy Coroner, am I speaking to the Jill Quint that once worked for the state crime lab?"

  "John, thanks for remembering me. Yes, this is that Jill Quint."

  "I heard you were famous now, doing autopsies all over the country, if you're calling me, we must have a body that you're interested in. What's the deceased's name?"

  "John, I always enjoyed the rapid pace of your thoughts, not to mention the quality of your work. Glad to hear that you have been rewarded with the supervisor position. The deceased's name is Manuel Valencia. Your office retrieved him late this morning or early afternoon from the Capitol building."

  "Ah yes, I remember hearing about that one. He is scheduled for autopsy tomorrow morning. Sadly we had four teens that drowned in the American River last night in addition to our usual spate of gang shootings, and dumb people choosing to get themselves dead, so we were not able to get to him right away."

  "Sorry to hear about the teens, that must be rough for the staff, especially those with teens of their own. I have Mr. Valencia's wife's authority to conduct a private autopsy. I wondered if I might do that this evening at your facility and then you could accept my report or choose to repeat the autopsy tomorrow as scheduled. I’ve maintained my license in the State of California."

  "Why does the family want a private autopsy? Why are they suspicious about his death? I thought I heard he had a bad heart and he couldn't be resuscitated?"

  "That is partially true. He had a pacemaker for some thirty years due to remnants of congenital heart disease. He was active and according to his receptionist, he wasn't feeling bad and had not called 9-1-1. He even told the paramedics that he was feeling fine."

  "Hmm that all sounds interesting. Can you complete the autopsy in less than two hours? Or now that you do boutique autopsies have you slowed down?"

  "John, I can promise you that even in my 'boutique autopsy' practice as you called it, I have never spent more than two hours on an autopsy. Sure there is time beyond the actual examination when I am running information down, but the physical examination will take less than two hours."

  "Okay then if you can be here by five this evening, I'll supervise you doing the autopsy, so we both get what we need from Mr. Valencia. Sound like a plan?"

  "Sounds perfect, thank you."

  "Thank my wife for being understanding about me getting home late tonight. At least it will ease the burden on my pathologists who have had a rather rough day with those teen autopsies."

  "Appreciate your help, see you at five," Jill responded and they ended the call.

  She called Christina Valencia next, "Christina, this is Jill Quint. I wanted to update you on my progress."

  "Wow that was quick, I feel like I just sent you the contract."

  "I'm used to moving fast as I don't want evidence to disappear. I have made arrangements to jointly conduct your father's autopsy with the Sacramento County Coroner tonight at five. I expect I'll be done about seven and wanted to have a sense if you and your mother would be available to meet with me between seven-thirty and eight-thirty tonight? I can easily come back tomorrow morning and speak with you then if you think that is better."

  "No, please come by at that time. If you have found something we would like to know immediately. My brother will have arrived by that time, and the house is full of relatives right now, so there may be a few extra family members that want to hear about your examination."

  "I am making no promise that I will find anything at all wrong. You need to understand that."

  "I do, we do," Christina corrected herself. "If you find that Dad threw a big blood clot shortly after the paramedics arrived then I understand the outcome. Regardless your examination will not bring Dad back alive, but it may provide the answers for my mom."

  "Okay, I'll give you a call at the end of the autopsy, so you will have a sense of when to expect me. From the Coroner's Office to Arden should be about a fifteen to twenty minute drive. Do you or your mother have any questions before I begin?"

  “My mother is an attorney by training, so all she knows about autopsies she’s learned from watching CSI on television, so she won’t have any questions nor will she want to imagine the actual process of an autopsy. I have no questions, rather just as a reminder, we would like you to focus o
n his heart and his pacemaker.”

  “Of course, I’ve examined other pacemakers during the autopsy process and this will be no exception. Both the coroner and I will want to see the records that were transmitted to the hospital as well as speak to the paramedics that treated him this morning. We likely won’t get to talk to them today, but we will speak to them at some point.”

  “Thank you and we look forward to speaking with you this evening.”

  After Jill ended the conversation, she went over in her head any possible supplies that she needed and she couldn’t think of anything unique that she needed for this case. She had two things left to do - leave Trixie, her Dalmatian, with plenty of treats, and call Nathan, the love of her life.

  Trixie gave Jill her best pout knowing her owner was racing off, planning on leaving her alone. Since Jill knew the dog planned to sleep anytime she was away from her house, Jill was aware that the dog's pout was a performance. Still Jill left her a few treats and fresh water.

  Soon she was traveling down the road in her 1956 Thunderbird convertible, on her way to Sacramento. Often she would have the top down, but this was summer and temperatures could reach one-hundred degrees during the day. While her car had not originally come with air conditioning, she had had a mechanic add it to the car. The air-conditioning could not overcome high heat, which while great for the Moscato grape, was uncomfortable if you were just driving down the highway. She put her headset on and called Nathan.

  "Where are you driving to?" Nathan asked.

  "How do you know I am driving?"

  "I know you love that car but it really was not built for a quiet drive, I can hear lots of road noise in the background."

  "Oh, I should have known. Hey, I'm going to have to cancel dinner. I caught a case a few hours ago and I am on my way into Sacramento to perform an autopsy. I won't be back until ten tonight, so I'll just sleep at my house."

  "What's the story on this case?" Nathan asked.