medicine.
“That’s hard to pinpoint. He was almost brain dead when the nurse came in. From the cross section of the brain stem, I might put his time of death ten to thirteen minutes before that.”
Stone had told him he’d picked up Amber in front of the hospital around 1:08 p.m. “Could you be off by five minutes?” Maybe the murderer came in before Amber arrived.
“Yes.”
He asked her about the Ativan dosage, and she confirmed the amount as excessive but not deadly.
“The killer must have injected something lethal aft erward—something that dissipated quickly so as not to be detectable,” she said.
“Such as?” He wanted her to make the diagnosis.
Sandra Carr pressed her lips together then drew in her bottom lip. “My first guess would be succinylcholine. It’s a neuromuscular blocker.”
“Thank you.” He placed his card on her desk. “If anything else comes to mind, call me.”
His next stop was to speak with the pharmaceutical technician to see who’d checked out the drugs or determine how someone could gotten a hold of the drug without signing them out.
* *
Even after more than a week, the pain from Chris’s death hadn’t diminished. Dr. Almaguire called the day before and said he’d ordered an autopsy because her brother’s death had been suspicious. While the doctor had access to the results, when she’d asked him for the details, he said he’d handed everything over to the police. Which meant she was out of the loop. The cops would never release any information until after the killer was found.
The whole concept of someone wanting Chris dead boggled her mind. Who would want to kill a crippled man? Her thoughts shot to Emma Luther, and Amber’s body trembled. Someone had wanted the girl dead, too. Right now, she didn’t have the energy to think about who would want her brother dead or why.
Rumors had run wild in the oncology departme nt about an angel of mercy, but the administration had ordered the staff to keep their comments to themselves. If the mercy killing theory ever leaked to the press, there would be widespread panic, and the hospital might be forced to close.
Amber made a promise to herself that as soon as she made her peace with Chris today, she’d find out the truth. His funeral was at four o’clock in the afternoon, and she worried about keeping her emotions in check during the service. Crying in front of her mom would make her look weak, and if there was one thing her mother hated, it was someone without a backbone.
Ben, a friend of the family, was giving the eulogy. Sometimes Ben’s social skills weren’t the best so Jamie promised she’d help him with what to say. If Amber honestly thought she could have kept it together, she would have spoken.
Jamie had told her right before Amber moved to Rock Hard, Ben’s mom had died of Lou Gehrig’s disease, a nerve disorder that attacked a person’s muscles. Amber had witnessed the effects of the fatal disease and couldn’t imagine a worse way to die. Jamie said Ben grieved for months afterward, and she feared when he went back to the funeral home he might not hold up well. Ben assured them that wouldn’t happen, and Amber hoped he was right.
Mom and Thomas were flying in a little before two o’clock and should arrive shortly. Amber had offered to pick them up at the airport, but her mom had insisted on renting a car. They were only staying the day then flying out later that night. To Amber, a car rental made little sense, but that was her mom.
There wouldn’t even be time for the three of them to have dinner together, though listening to Mom say how careless Chris had been for a whole meal would have turned Amber’s stomach and caused her to say something she might later regret. While her mother claimed she was looking forward to seeing Amber again, her actions said something very different.
A knock sounded on her door, and she jumped. With a shaky hand, she opened up.
“Amber,” her mother
“That’s hard to pinpoint. He was almost brain dead when the nurse came in. From the cross section of the brain stem, I might put his time of death ten to thirteen minutes before that.”
Stone had told him he’d picked up Amber in front of the hospital around 1:08 p.m. “Could you be off by five minutes?” Maybe the murderer came in before Amber arrived.
“Yes.”
He asked her about the Ativan dosage, and she confirmed the amount as excessive but not deadly.
“The killer must have injected something lethal aft erward—something that dissipated quickly so as not to be detectable,” she said.
“Such as?” He wanted her to make the diagnosis.
Sandra Carr pressed her lips together then drew in her bottom lip. “My first guess would be succinylcholine. It’s a neuromuscular blocker.”
“Thank you.” He placed his card on her desk. “If anything else comes to mind, call me.”
His next stop was to speak with the pharmaceutical technician to see who’d checked out the drugs or determine how someone could gotten a hold of the drug without signing them out.
* *
Even after more than a week, the pain from Chris’s death hadn’t diminished. Dr. Almaguire called the day before and said he’d ordered an autopsy because her brother’s death had been suspicious. While the doctor had access to the results, when she’d asked him for the details, he said he’d handed everything over to the police. Which meant she was out of the loop. The cops would never release any information until after the killer was found.
The whole concept of someone wanting Chris dead boggled her mind. Who would want to kill a crippled man? Her thoughts shot to Emma Luther, and Amber’s body trembled. Someone had wanted the girl dead, too. Right now, she didn’t have the energy to think about who would want her brother dead or why.
Rumors had run wild in the oncology departme nt about an angel of mercy, but the administration had ordered the staff to keep their comments to themselves. If the mercy killing theory ever leaked to the press, there would be widespread panic, and the hospital might be forced to close.
Amber made a promise to herself that as soon as she made her peace with Chris today, she’d find out the truth. His funeral was at four o’clock in the afternoon, and she worried about keeping her emotions in check during the service. Crying in front of her mom would make her look weak, and if there was one thing her mother hated, it was someone without a backbone.
Ben, a friend of the family, was giving the eulogy. Sometimes Ben’s social skills weren’t the best so Jamie promised she’d help him with what to say. If Amber honestly thought she could have kept it together, she would have spoken.
Jamie had told her right before Amber moved to Rock Hard, Ben’s mom had died of Lou Gehrig’s disease, a nerve disorder that attacked a person’s muscles. Amber had witnessed the effects of the fatal disease and couldn’t imagine a worse way to die. Jamie said Ben grieved for months afterward, and she feared when he went back to the funeral home he might not hold up well. Ben assured them that wouldn’t happen, and Amber hoped he was right.
Mom and Thomas were flying in a little before two o’clock and should arrive shortly. Amber had offered to pick them up at the airport, but her mom had insisted on renting a car. They were only staying the day then flying out later that night. To Amber, a car rental made little sense, but that was her mom.
There wouldn’t even be time for the three of them to have dinner together, though listening to Mom say how careless Chris had been for a whole meal would have turned Amber’s stomach and caused her to say something she might later regret. While her mother claimed she was looking forward to seeing Amber again, her actions said something very different.
A knock sounded on her door, and she jumped. With a shaky hand, she opened up.
“Amber,” her mother
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