Dosed to Death

by P. D. Workman

  Before long, the police would be making their way to her cabin and would want to know all about everything that had happened. They weren’t going to be happy with the destruction of the evidence in the fire.

  Soon, there would be a lot of questions for her and the others. And she wasn’t sure she had many answers for them.

  68

  Kenzie helped Tyrrell and Zachary load up Tyrrell’s car and get the kids ready to go. They were all eager to get out of there, Mason chattering on about how he was going to see his mom again and about all the things that he would tell her.

  Kenzie smiled at Tyrrell sympathetically. “I guess your ex will have a lot of questions on just what happened here this week.”

  Tyrrell nodded and rolled his eyes. “Uh, yeah. She is definitely going to have some words about putting them in this situation.”

  “It isn’t as though you could have done anything to prevent it. You did everything you could to keep the kids out of the way, and they didn’t actually see anything.”

  “Thank goodness! Oh, would I be in some deep trouble then. But... maybe I should have headed out when I knew the storm was coming in. I knew that we might get stranded for a couple of days, but I didn’t think there was any harm in it. Even with the power and communications out, the kids were still safe and had food and everything they needed.”

  “Maybe even a good thing for them,” Kenzie contributed. “No screens. Just books and games and finding ways to entertain themselves.”

  “It didn’t actually go too badly, other than when Mace took off and hid in the barn.”

  “And he didn’t fall or get hurt in there. I’m sure it’s not the first time he’s wandered off.”

  Tyrrell chuckled. “By no means. But my ex still thinks that we should be able to prevent it. If we’re just vigilant enough.”

  Kenzie shook her head. It would take a bit more than just vigilance to keep track of everything Mason did. An ankle monitor and a body cam, for a start. Maybe one of those perimeter collars that you put on dogs to keep them from crossing the property line.

  “Well, good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Tyrrell turned back toward the car to get the children settled and to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything.

  “And Tyrrell...?”

  He turned back around and looked at her.

  “Is everything okay with you...?” She knew that Zachary had brought up the alcohol cabinet with Tyrrell, but the younger man had denied falling off the wagon. It would have been understandable under the circumstances, but he said he’d never touched a drop.

  Tyrrell nodded. “Sure, I’m fine. You take good care of this brother of mine.” He grabbed Zachary, who was headed back to Kenzie’s side, and gave him a fierce hug. “You did really good, bro. Really good. Take care.”

  Zachary slapped him on the back. “I will, T. You too.”

  “Let me know how you’re doing. I know that this is... a tough time of year.” Tyrrell looked at him for a moment, meeting his eyes. “For me, too.”

  “Yeah. Will you have the kids this year?” In keeping with his usual practice, Zachary didn’t say “for Christmas,” but it was understood.

  “I’m supposed to. It’s my turn.”

  Zachary swallowed and nodded. Kenzie knew that he wanted to say something like “We’ll have to get together” or to suggest an activity they might like to do with the children. But he had a mental wall where Christmas was concerned. He could not plan anything until after Christmas Eve was past.

  Tyrrell gave Zachary an understanding pat on the back and climbed into the car.

  “I’ll give you a call.”

  69

  Kenzie finished tidying up Dr. Wiltshire’s office and putting everything else back to rights, which had taken quite a bit of work after all the time she’d been away. Between the antiviral protocol and her last-minute vacation, she’d been away for several weeks, and none of it had been planned, so Dr. Wiltshire and the part-time staff that he could get in had run things the best they could while she was gone. And, she was happy to see, they badly needed her to get things straightened out again. They had managed to get along without her, but it was clear that they had struggled and that several of the department protocols had fallen by the wayside as they tried to make do without her.

  They needed her. And that was a good feeling.

  She had gotten there early to make sure she would have a lot of time before Dr. Wiltshire got there. She wasn’t a morning person, but it had been worth it to get up extra early for one day.

  She was back at her desk when Dr. Wiltshire got there, just starting to go through the accumulated email in her inbox to sort out the priorities and get started on printing and filing.

  “Kenzie!” His greeting was more enthusiastic than usual. “Look at you! You don’t know how much I have missed seeing your smiling face when I get in each morning.”

  “Well, from the state of the office, I can understand why.”

  “We did our best to keep things running while you were gone,” he said, scratching his head, “but we have clearly come to rely on you for nearly everything around here.”

  He had a tray and a box from the donut shop down the street. He put them on the ledge of Kenzie’s desk, and carefully removed a cup of coffee from the tray.

  “For you.”

  “Thank you!”

  “And there are donuts...” He opened the box and held it tilted for her to pick out her choice of pastries.

  “Oh, I shouldn’t...” But Kenzie knew that she would take one, and so did he. She’d already burned up all the calories from her marmalade toast that morning, running back and forth getting things tidied up. She was ready for something decadent after hospital food and camping food. It seemed like a long time since their Thanksgiving dinner with Lorne and Pat. Though the real Thanksgiving Day was still coming up.

  “So, how was your vacation?” Dr. Wiltshire asked. “Nice and relaxing?”

  “Well... it didn’t turn out quite the way that I expected.”

  “Oh? I suppose they never do happen quite the way that we plan, do they?”

  Kenzie shook her head. “No. I guess that would be asking too much.”

  “You’ll have to tell me all about it. But right now, I should check to see what’s on my desk. And I think you have a few things waiting for you in your inbox.”

  Kenzie nodded. “Yes... it would appear that I do.”

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  Preview of Gentle Angel

  Chapter 1

  It felt good to be back in the morgue.

  It might sound strange, but after their stressful vacation in a mountain resort, Kenzie and Zachary were both glad to be home and back into the usual daily routines. Zachary running his private investigations business and Kenzie returning to the Medical Examiner’s Office where none of the bodies she dealt with were people that she had known personally. Most people considered the work of a medical examiner to be gross and depressing, but Kenzie was fascinated with the work of uncovering what the deceased had died of and found it life-affirming rather than discouraging.

  Dr. Wiltshire and the part-time staff had let a number of things slide while she had been gone. She had been prevented from coming to work first due to a virus she had contracted and the anti-viral protocol to kill it, and then on a short holiday that was supposed to be a chance for her and Zachary to recover their health and rest before ge
tting back to work. It hadn’t exactly turned out that way.

  There were a lot of requests and reports to be processed in Kenzie’s physical in box as well as in her email queue.

  A couple of bodies had been transported from the hospital, and Kenzie reviewed the intake forms to find out the details and make sure that everything had been filled out correctly. She opened new files for each of them and checked the bodies themselves to make sure that the names and numbers matched the forms that the hospital had sent with them. Always better to catch any clerical errors early. Families tended not to like it when bodies got mixed up.

  She was back at her desk printing reports when Dr. Wiltshire got in. The idea of the ME’s office being paperless was a joke. They went through reams of paper.

  “Morning, Kenzie,” Dr. Wiltshire greeted.

  “Morning, Doctor. Got a couple of intakes from the hospital today.”

  He nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “Anything of note?”

  “One from a single-vehicle car accident. And one a request from a doctor.”

  Neither was particularly out of the ordinary. A doctor-attended death did not automatically go to the Medical Examiner’s Office, but if the attending physician had any doubts about the cause of death or deemed it suspicious in some way, he could request that the medical examiner perform an autopsy.

  “What is the doctor’s name?”

  Kenzie hadn’t made note of it, so she brought the form up on her computer to check. “A Dr. Philemon?”

  “Philemon...” Dr. Wiltshire pondered this for a moment. He frowned. “He’s in geriatrics, isn’t he?”

  Kenzie went to the Vermont Health Network website and searched Dr. Philemon in the directory. “Yes, looks like that’s his specialty. Does some general practice as well.”

  Dr. Wiltshire nodded. “Okay. I’ll look at them today. How is your workload?”

  “Still trying to get caught up. Lots of printing and filing to be done.”

  “Yeah... we might have let that slide a little.”

  “A little,” Kenzie agreed. She wasn’t sure anyone had done any filing during the weeks she had been gone. And since no filing had been done, she couldn’t be sure what reports had been printed already. She had to keep going back and forth between the computer and the piles of printouts and the files to try to make sure everything was accounted for and that they could put their hands on what they needed immediately. It wasn’t any good if there were lab results floating around that hadn’t been reviewed or if they were holding onto bodies that should be moved on to funeral homes because they hadn’t been cleared yet.

  “Sorry about that. But we didn’t want to mess up your system...”

  Kenzie laughed and shook her head. “Good excuse!”

  He smiled and took another sip of his coffee. “Well, we had to come up with something to explain this mess.”

  Maybe they could have put some of the time that had gone into thinking up an excuse into actually getting the work done.

  “I’ll do what I can to get it all whipped into shape... but I’ll be ready for a break from the paper this afternoon, if you don’t mind me scrubbing in on one of the autopsies.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be sure to start early enough that you can get through it and still get back to Zachary in good time.”

  Dr. Wiltshire knew Zachary from a couple of previous cases that he had been involved with. And he knew a little bit about the challenges that Zachary faced.

  Only someone who lived with Zachary or was close to him could know the real extent of his difficulties, but Kenzie appreciated Dr. Wiltshire thinking about her and her home situation in setting his schedule for the day. Despite the amount of work she had to do, Kenzie didn’t want to be there too late. She would get caught up over time. Being able to spend time with Zachary and keep an eye on his health was important too.

  Kenzie was a little disappointed that the autopsy she was able to scrub in on was Dr. Philemon’s patient rather than the accident victim. The accident victim would have been more interesting. She suspected that a geriatric patient who had died at the hospital wasn’t going to be a particularly intriguing case. Although she couldn’t make that judgment. They had recently autopsied a nursing home patient whose death had turned out to be anything but routine.

  George had already prepped the remains for them, gathering any forensic evidence and washing the body off. The old man’s body lay on the table with a drape over it, awaiting their investigation. Dr. Wiltshire tapped the button on the floor with his foot to start recording, and dictated the patient’s name and file number, the date and time, and his and Kenzie’s names. He began as usual, making note of the patient’s height and weight and his appearance on gross examination. Nothing remarkable. He didn’t look any different from any other geriatric patient who had passed away in his sleep.

  They checked for any cuts, bruises, or needle marks, as well as making notes of livor mortis. Time of death had been noted by Dr. Philemon, and Kenzie didn’t see anything that would indicate that the timing was off.

  “Bruising to the chest and ribs,” Dr. Wiltshire commented. “Let’s get some films and have a look.”

  He and Kenzie donned the appropriate radiation shields and took several x-rays of the body. The images were processed and ready for their review immediately. Dr. Wiltshire called them up on the screen.

  “Some inflammation and fractures,” he commented. “What does that look like to you, Dr. Kirsch?”

  Kenzie was the student, and Dr. Wiltshire preferred the Socratic model of leading her with questions rather than lecturing. Kenzie had seen the victim’s injury pattern in textbooks and didn’t have a problem coming up with the answer.

  “Looks like CPR was performed.”

  “Would you perform CPR on an elderly patient like this?”

  Kenzie looked at him. “Probably not. He’s very frail and what would be gained by reviving him? Even if he could be revived with CPR, chances are he would have brain damage or his quality of life would not be good. Not with broken ribs at his age. I’m surprised there was not a DNR.”

  “There might have been. If it’s not properly recorded and flagged, they might proceed with CPR anyway. Although with a patient of this age,” he shook his head, “I’m not sure why.”

  “I don’t remember there being anything on the records we got from the hospital about CPR being performed. They should have noted it.”

  “Unless this was from a previous incident. If he had a cardiac event earlier, we might not have all the relevant records. We’ll need to follow up on whether there was a DNR or a previous incident that required resuscitation.”

  Kenzie nodded her agreement. She couldn’t stop and make a note in the middle of the autopsy, but it would be on the transcript she got back from the recording. She moved the magnifier over the deceased man’s arm and examined the IV catheter and tube.

  “See something?” Dr. Wiltshire asked.

  “No. I just wondered whether I would be able to tell whether anything was injected into the IV.”

  “Doubtful,” Dr. Wiltshire shook his head. “Sometimes there is trace evidence. Crystals, bubbles, things like that. But if it was meant to be injected, adrenaline or some other lifesaving measure, then no. It would just mix with the IV fluid and not leave any visible traces.”

  Kenzie examined the tubing for another minute, but couldn’t see anything unusual.

  “Okay. What’s next?”

  Chapter 2

  It was a little later than Kenzie would have liked when she got home, but considering how late she had worked other days, it wasn’t really bad. She hadn’t had to eat a sandwich from the vending machine, but she was more than ready for her supper. She pulled her baby—a cherry red convertible—into her garage and walked in through the kitchen door. Zachary was sitting on the couch with his computer table in front of him, but he looked up when she opened the door, not so focused on his work that he failed to notice her.

  “Home
, sweet home,” Kenzie declared.

  Zachary smiled. “How was it today?”

  “Still getting caught up. But Dr. Wiltshire understands that I can’t get through three weeks of backlog in a couple of days, so I’m not going to kill myself trying.”

  “That would sort of defeat the purpose. Then you’d never get out of the morgue.”

  “Well, I would eventually, but it would be on a gurney.”

  Zachary chuckled. He pushed his table away from him and stretched. “Do you want me to order something?”

  “I’m too hungry to wait for delivery.” Kenzie put down her bag and opened the freezer door to see what supplies they had. Even a pizza would take half an hour to heat, and she wasn’t in the mood for frozen burritos. She closed the freezer and opened the fridge, but as she had expected, there wasn’t much to eat there. Some fruit, a salad that she’d made with perfectly good intentions but then not even touched. Some leftovers from Sunday that she should probably throw out. Kenzie sighed.

  “You could have a snack while we wait for delivery,” Zachary suggested.

  “Well... maybe.” Kenzie considered the fruit. She could have an apple with some cheese while she waited for something better to be delivered. That would hold her over and help to keep her calm and relaxed to visit with Zachary but wouldn’t take the amount of effort that actually coming up with something and preparing dinner herself would.

  Her mother would despair over the lack of culinary and homemaking skills her daughter possessed. But then, Lisa Cole Kirsch had employed a cook for most of Kenzie’s childhood. Granted, she’d had a sick child to take care of, which was far more important than making sandwiches. Or mini quiches.