Wedding Date with the Army Doc by Lynne Marshall Page B

resumed their work week. Once the autopsy was complete, James would wash the body and make it ready for the funeral home.
    Though the family might want and expect immediate results, like they’d come to expect on those infamous TV dramas, it might be an entire month before she’d have the final report completed. Autopsies needed and deserved the extra time to make the right diagnoses.
    Her beeper went off. Ah, damn, it was Dr. Dupree. Since he’d called on her official hospital beeper, she answered.
    â€œI need a favor,” he said, before she could even say hello.
    She’d grown to expect the worst whenever Antwan said he needed anything. “Yes?”
    â€œThey told me you’re on call, and I just got an okay from a family for an autopsy. Can you do it for me tonight?”
    â€œTonight? Why the rush?”
    â€œThe family gave me twenty-four hours until they send their daughter to the mortuary. I need this favor, please.”
    She wasn’t used to hearing sincerity in his voice. “When did the patient die?”
    â€œJust now. I operated on her two weeks ago. Removed her appendix. Everything went great. Two days ago she was readmitted for loss of consciousness at home. Medicine was doing a work-up on her. She seemed to be fine. Then a nurse found her unresponsive in the hospital bed. She was already dead.”
    â€œOkay. Send her to the morgue. I’ll tell James about the add-on.”
    â€œThank you. I owe you a special dinner out.”
    â€œNo, you don’t. This is my job.” Why was it that every time she spoke to Dr. Dupree her hackles rose? Because he was such a player, hitting on every woman in a skirt or hospital scrubs. But just now he’d shown a new side, genuine caring for a young patient who’d died of mysterious causes that may or may not have had something to do with the recent surgery. He was either being extra thorough or covering his backside... CYA, as the saying went.
    For the sake of the family and the concerned doctor, Charlotte would do her usual thorough examination, and if she got lucky tonight, she might solve an unfortunate mystery.
    Four hours later, having completed the long and complicated second autopsy, with strong suspicions that the young female patient had most likely died from an undetected brain aneurysm, she opted to shower in the doctors’ lounge. It was nearly ten by the time she was dressed and ready to go home, but she decided to make a quick stop at her office first to call Security.
    The elevator dinged as she unlocked the door to the pathology department, which was a few doors down from the morgue. She glanced over her shoulder in case it was Security, in which case it would save her a call, but out came Jackson. Though tired from a long day, her mood immediately lifted.
    â€œHi,” he said, looking as surprised as she was. “I took a chance and got lucky.”
    â€œHi, yourself. What are you doing here?” She unlocked the door and opened it. He followed her inside.
    â€œI realized I didn’t have your personal cell-phone number, and thought I’d see if you were still around so I could get it.”
    He’d come back to the hospital at...she glanced at her watch...ten-fifteen p.m., hoping to run into her? Sure, she was happy the man was pursuing her, but it also made her wonder about his dinner date. She gave him her number and watched as he entered it into his cell phone. Then he insisted she take his. A good sign.
    â€œHow’d the autopsy go?”
    â€œI wound up doing two.”
    â€œNo kidding. You must be beat.”
    â€œYeah, it’s been a long day, starting with getting chased by zombies and ending with, well, you know.” Out of respect for the dead she always recalled the Latin phrase— Hic locus est ubi mors gaudet succurrere vitae . This is the place where death rejoices to help those who live. It was her way of reframing the tough job she did as a