relate the man’s vitals to the woman over the phone, while she surveyed the situation. She didn’t smell alcohol.
She touched the man’s hand and sensed that the crash wasn’t the problem. “He’s suffering from an allergic reaction.”
“What?”
“We have to do something or he won’t make it by the time help arrives.”
“Why do you—”
“Help me find an EpiPen!” she said in no mood to argue. She searched his pockets but came up empty. She raced over to the car and searched inside. She saw a bottle of water and a bag of trail mix, but nothing else. She opened the glove compartment and saw papers and a bottle of vitamin supplements from Valley Ray and then her gaze fell on what she was looking for. Before closing the glove compartment, she tucked the bottle away in her coat pocket, then returned to Sean with the EpiPen.
He unzipped the man’s trousers and administered the EpiPen directly in the man’s outer thigh. Slowly the man came to. Sean kept his voice calm and professional as he told the man to keep still while he asked him some questions.
Teresa noticed that Sean looked over the man with an expertise the average person didn’t have. The quick questions, the detached assessment; she knew he was a doctor, but not a general practitioner. He had a specialty.
The sound of sirens soon pierced the air and she stepped back to let the medics take over.
“How did you know?” Sean asked her as the ambulance raced away.
“About what?”
“The reaction.”
“Why aren’t you practicing anymore?”
He just stared at her.
She nodded and smiled. “Right, you have your secrets and I have mine.”
***
The cramped room in the back of the police station smelled like cigarette smoke and dark fudge. She knew it was a smoke-free facility so she wondered if she’d caught Detective Hartnett after his break. Unfortunately, if he’d had a break, it hadn’t improved his mood. He greeted her with polite disinterest as he sat behind his desk, dwarfing his chair. He was big, not fat, just large with a touch of silver at the temples of his short-cropped hairstyle. He stared at her with all the interest of a man forced to attend a knitting competition.
“It’s very important that someone investigate what is going on there,” Teresa said after she explained the situation about the two women at the nursing facility and the man at the bay. “This is the third person, I believe.”
“You believe? You mean there’s no proof.”
She put the Valley Ray supplement bottles on the table. “People have gotten sick.”
He glanced at the bottles, making no move to inspect them. “We haven’t heard any complaints. It’s flu season that’s what happens. People take different remedies. Some work and others don’t. They’re not doing anything illegal.”
“It’s very important that the lab check to see the levels—”
“We’ll look into it.”
She knew he wouldn’t and she couldn’t force him. Perhaps she could persuade him with some sympathy. She saw a jar of aspirin on the side of his desk and could tell by his eyes and the absent rubbing of his temple what his current trouble was. “You can ease tension headaches with the essential oils of sweet marjoram. It’s applied topically, so you won’t have to worry about it upsetting your system.”
She saw a hint of interest, then it quickly disappeared. “I’ll remember that.”
Teresa took a deep breath, she knew their meeting was over. “Thank you for your time.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
She sighed then left.
Detective Hartnett watched her go, wishing he had time for another cigarette. He left the room and went to the front desk. “Who the hell put her through to me?”
“She was insistent,” the front clerk said.
“So what?”
That was the problem with some of the newbies. They didn’t know how the office worked. They acted as if they served the public like some damn restaurant. Instead, they sent in people who
She touched the man’s hand and sensed that the crash wasn’t the problem. “He’s suffering from an allergic reaction.”
“What?”
“We have to do something or he won’t make it by the time help arrives.”
“Why do you—”
“Help me find an EpiPen!” she said in no mood to argue. She searched his pockets but came up empty. She raced over to the car and searched inside. She saw a bottle of water and a bag of trail mix, but nothing else. She opened the glove compartment and saw papers and a bottle of vitamin supplements from Valley Ray and then her gaze fell on what she was looking for. Before closing the glove compartment, she tucked the bottle away in her coat pocket, then returned to Sean with the EpiPen.
He unzipped the man’s trousers and administered the EpiPen directly in the man’s outer thigh. Slowly the man came to. Sean kept his voice calm and professional as he told the man to keep still while he asked him some questions.
Teresa noticed that Sean looked over the man with an expertise the average person didn’t have. The quick questions, the detached assessment; she knew he was a doctor, but not a general practitioner. He had a specialty.
The sound of sirens soon pierced the air and she stepped back to let the medics take over.
“How did you know?” Sean asked her as the ambulance raced away.
“About what?”
“The reaction.”
“Why aren’t you practicing anymore?”
He just stared at her.
She nodded and smiled. “Right, you have your secrets and I have mine.”
***
The cramped room in the back of the police station smelled like cigarette smoke and dark fudge. She knew it was a smoke-free facility so she wondered if she’d caught Detective Hartnett after his break. Unfortunately, if he’d had a break, it hadn’t improved his mood. He greeted her with polite disinterest as he sat behind his desk, dwarfing his chair. He was big, not fat, just large with a touch of silver at the temples of his short-cropped hairstyle. He stared at her with all the interest of a man forced to attend a knitting competition.
“It’s very important that someone investigate what is going on there,” Teresa said after she explained the situation about the two women at the nursing facility and the man at the bay. “This is the third person, I believe.”
“You believe? You mean there’s no proof.”
She put the Valley Ray supplement bottles on the table. “People have gotten sick.”
He glanced at the bottles, making no move to inspect them. “We haven’t heard any complaints. It’s flu season that’s what happens. People take different remedies. Some work and others don’t. They’re not doing anything illegal.”
“It’s very important that the lab check to see the levels—”
“We’ll look into it.”
She knew he wouldn’t and she couldn’t force him. Perhaps she could persuade him with some sympathy. She saw a jar of aspirin on the side of his desk and could tell by his eyes and the absent rubbing of his temple what his current trouble was. “You can ease tension headaches with the essential oils of sweet marjoram. It’s applied topically, so you won’t have to worry about it upsetting your system.”
She saw a hint of interest, then it quickly disappeared. “I’ll remember that.”
Teresa took a deep breath, she knew their meeting was over. “Thank you for your time.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
She sighed then left.
Detective Hartnett watched her go, wishing he had time for another cigarette. He left the room and went to the front desk. “Who the hell put her through to me?”
“She was insistent,” the front clerk said.
“So what?”
That was the problem with some of the newbies. They didn’t know how the office worked. They acted as if they served the public like some damn restaurant. Instead, they sent in people who
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