Vanessa rolled her eyes and pushed herself up out of her chair. “Who would that be, sir?”
Savage grinned and went back into his office.
Jason followed Vanessa, and they joined their boss. Vanessa sat in one of the chairs while Jason stood by the door. Savage grabbed a note off his desk.
“I got a call from an old friend over at SAG,” He handed the paper to Vanessa. “His name is Mike Henderson, and he works in the emergency department. A case came in this evening involving a fifty-two-year-old woman who was cyanotic.”
Jason took out his notepad. “Why’d he call you?”
“He said the cause of her illness was undetermined, and it wasn’t sitting right with him.”
“She die?”
“No, at least not yet. Mike said she’s on life support, but the family will probably decide to pull the plug.”
“Is he suspicious of foul play?”
Savage lowered himself into his chair and nodded. “He said there were no obvious causes for her condition. When she dies, assuming she does, he will have no clear cause of death, and that should trigger an autopsy. Because of the circumstances, he wanted to give us a heads up.”
Jason scribbled down some notes. “Do we have a family contact?”
“Yes. Doctor Dale Ellard.”
Jason glanced at Vanessa. “We know him. He’s done some consulting for our department.”
Vanessa nodded. “I thought I recognized the name. He’s a psychiatrist, right?”
“Yeah.”
Savage raised a neatly trimmed eyebrow. “Oh? Must have been before my time.”
“Was over a year ago, I think. Who’s the victim?”
“His wife, Doctor Janet Ellard.”
Jason groaned. “Let’s hope it turns out to be something innocent. Has Noah been notified?”
Noah Hatcher was the new Medical Examiner, having replaced Doc Davis when he retired. Jason had only worked one case with Hatcher since he took over, but so far, Jason was impressed with the new M.E.
“Officially, it hasn’t fallen into his hands yet.”
“Are you going to tip him off?”
Savage bobbed his head. “As a courtesy.”
Jason put away his pad and glanced at his watch. “I guess I won’t be home for dinner.”
Vanessa smiled. “Me either. Maybe we can do a pick-up at Stumpy’s. You still owe me.”
Jason had made a promise to her while she was in a coma. When she woke up, he made the mistake of telling her. He had yet to pay up, and she wasn’t about to let him off the hook. “We better go to SAG first.”
She shrugged. “Okay, but you know how I get when I’m hungry.”
He laughed. “We all do!”
*******
Downstairs, Vanessa pointed toward the end of the parking lot. “Want me to drive?”
Jason followed her gesture and spotted the restored 1971 Dodge Challenger. “Oh, yeah.”
Five minutes later, they were zipping along the interstate with the top down. She had let her hair grow out some, and it flapped wildly behind her, enhancing the sense of speed.
The roadster had been a gift from her first husband, who had been murdered a few years ago. Initially, it had been just a painful symbol of what she’d lost, and just seeing it was too much, never mind driving it. But Jason had encouraged her to keep it in the garage with a cover over it, and not make a decision while she was still grieving. She was grateful for the advice now.
Her new fiancé Brad had brought her out to the garage one day and showed her the car. The cover had been removed, the convertible top was down, and the Challenger had been completely detailed. He handed her the key, and encouraged her to get in. Reluctantly, she’d gotten behind the wheel.
He’d shut her door and smiled down at her, but didn’t move.
“Aren’t you getting in?”
“No, not this time. You go and enjoy yourself. Find a back road somewhere and just relax.”
She’d peered at him curiously. “But…”
“Seriously. Forget about all the stuff you’ve gone through, and just have some ‘me’ time. You deserve it.”
She’d put the key in and fired up the engine. It roared to life and the car vibrated under her. She remembered how much joy the car had brought her when she first got it. She looked back at Brad. “You sure?”
He bent over and kissed the top of her head. “Have fun.”
And so she had.
As with many victims of violence, depression was often as hard, if not harder, to overcome than the physical trauma. The car became her happy place. Sometimes Brad would go with her, other times the kids went, but the ride was always rejuvenating, freeing, even exhilarating.
The same was true today, even though she and Jason were on business, they were both smiling when she parked it in the hospital lot.
Inside the emergency department, their first stop was at the main desk.
Vanessa showed her badge. “We’re looking for Doctor Mike Henderson.”
“I’m Mike Henderson.”
Vanessa looked up. A tall African-American man with dark eyes, his long white coat draped over green scrubs, came towards them from behind the nurse’s station. “You must be Detective Layne, and you’re Detective Strong.” He shook hands with both of them.
Vanessa smiled. “Our reputation precedes us.”
“Actually, it was a phone call from Eric that preceded you.”
Jason shrugged. “Should have known. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“Follow me.”
Carrying a file folder, he led them through a set of double doors, down a short hallway, and into a small, windowless conference room—a round table and four chairs the only furniture. “Please, have a seat.”
He closed the door and joined them at the table. “Eric filled you in, I gather.”
Vanessa nodded. “To some extent. But start from scratch.”
“Okay. Janet Ellard is a fifty-two-year-old white female with no history of allergies and no history of seizures. Her last physical exam was exemplary, with normal blood tests and no hypertension.”
“What was her status when she arrived?”
He glanced down at the file. “Cyanotic, with signs of severe anaphylaxis…”
Jason looked up from his notepad. “English, Doc?”
“Of course. Cyanotic means her skin was blue from lack of oxygen. She appeared to be having an allergic reaction to something. The paramedics had inserted a trach tube in her throat, which should have helped with the lack of oxygen, but her blood pressure had plummeted while she was being transported. She was in full cardiac arrest when we got her. We were able to resuscitate her, but…” He shrugged.
Vanessa watched Henderson’s eyes as he spoke. They reflected anguish, even frustration. Though his patient was technically still alive, the impending loss weighed on him, much like an unsolved case would take its toll on she or Jason. “What tests did you run?”
“The usual. Blood panels, including a tox screen, but it came back without any indication of drugs in her system.”
“What is her condition now?”
“She’s in a coma and on full life support.”
Vanessa locked eyes with Henderson. “You suspect poisoning.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement.
“Poison is just one possibility. And even if it was some sort of toxicity, it could be from environmental exposure, not internal.”
“But?”
Henderson turned his palms upward. “I have no evidence to suggest it is from a toxin, but neither can I come up with another cause for her condition. But in my business, as in yours I’m sure, jumping to conclusions is not the right way to find answers.”
Jason leaned back in his chair. “What are the other possibilities?”
“Embolism—either cardiac or pulmonary—undiagnosed asthma, even acute anxiety.”
“You ruled these out?”
“Not yet. By the time Mrs. Ellard
arrived, we were just trying to resuscitate her. Very little time existed for diagnosis. And now, the reality is that some of these answers will be more easily discovered at an autopsy, assuming she doesn’t recover.”
“Did paramedics notice any pills at the scene?”
“No, nor needles. Also, the 9-1-1 operator had Mr. Ellard double check, and he said there was nothing.”
Vanessa glanced toward the door. “Where is Mrs. Ellard now?”
“Intensive care.”
“So her family is up there as well?”
“I assume so.”
Jason stood. “Thanks, Doc. If you learn anything new, call us immediately?”
“Of course.”
Jason glanced at Vanessa. “I guess we know our next stop.”
*******
Jason would often bypass the elevator and take the stairs up two flights to the intensive care floor, but Vanessa didn’t need to be stair-climbing yet. He pressed the call button. Three minutes later, the elevator doors opened up and released them into the critical care area of SAG.
Glass partitioned patient rooms surrounded a central nurses desk, each room occupied by a single occupant, who themselves were surrounded by an array of machines, wires, and screens. Most patients were on a ventilator, the pump moving up and down in a monotonous cadence that bellied the critical nature of its job. IV bags hung in multiple groupings at the head of each bed.
Though the mechanisms of life support created noise, the glass partitions kept the sounds within the confines of the rooms, leaving the nurses station in a kind of vacuum, a hushed peacefulness.
Jason approached an elderly nurse who sat reading a chart. He showed her his badge.
“Detective Strong, San Antonio PD. I believe you have Janet Ellard on this floor.”
“Yes. Room six.”
“Is there any family with her?”
“Only one member is allowed in at a time. I’d have to check.”
“No need.” Jason glanced down the hall. “Anyone else would be in the waiting area?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
He headed down to his left, followed by Vanessa. The waiting area wasn’t large, about half the size of the one in Emergency, and as a result it felt cramped when Jason entered. At least three groups of people, apparently not connected, filled the chairs around the wall. A TV played silently on the wall in the corner.
He paused at the door and scanned the windowless room. Three men fit the age profile of Dale Ellard. Vanessa nudged him and tipped her head toward the man sitting in the far corner with a young lady next to him. “That’s Ellard.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You remember him?”
She smiled, touching a finger to her temple. “Photographic.”
He smiled. True enough. Her ability to remember crime scene details was renowned within the department.
Jason led the way across the room, still holding his badge. He cupped it discreetly and kept his voice low. “Dale Ellard?”
The man looked up. Salt and pepper hair, though receded slightly from his forehead, was neatly groomed. Green eyes and full lips were accentuated by a deep tan, giving him a youthful appearance.
“Yes?”
Jason flashed the badge. “We’re with the San Antonio Police Department. We’re very sorry to hear about your wife.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m Detective Strong, this is my partner, Detective Layne. We need to speak with you about your wife.”
“Detectives?” Surprise flashed across his face. “What for?”
“It’s not uncommon in these situations that police are called in.”
“These situations?” Though Jason had been trying to keep things low key, Mr. Ellard was not inclined to follow suit. His voice filled the room. “What exactly are you talking about? My wife is sick.”
Vanessa leaned forward. “Mr. Ellard, perhaps we could go to the conference room?”
Ellard looked at her, hesitated, then rose from his chair. “Very well.”
Jason looked down at the young lady. “Is this your daughter, sir?”
“No, but Destiny is like family.”
“Okay. Destiny, I’m going to ask you to stay here for now.”
The pretty blonde, who Jason guessed to be in her mid-twenties, nodded. “Okay.”
Vanessa led, Ellard followed, and Jason brought up the rear. Thanks to Ellard’s outburst, all eyes in the room were now focused on the trio. Jason just smiled and nodded.
The conference room, technically called a “Family consult area”, was similar in size to the waiting area, but with a central table and chairs to sit at, and a door rather than an open entrance way. Vanessa took a seat on the far side, Ellard sat at the head, but after Jason closed the door, he remained standing so he could watch the doctor. Because Ellard had responded favorably to Vanessa’s suggestion of leaving the room, Jason let her take lead while he made notes.
Ellard slumped back in the chair, glanced at Jason with a level of suspicion, then focused on Vanessa. “We’ve met.”
She smiled. “Yes, sir. You consulted on one of our cases.”
He did not return the smile. “You’re with Homicide.”
“That’s correct.”
He scowled. “My wife wasn’t murdered, Detective.”
“I’m not saying she was, sir.”
“So who is?” He waved a disdainful hand toward Jason. “Your partner?”
Jason wasn’t sure why Ellard seemed to have an aversion to him, but he had to admit that the man’s reaction surprised him. The doctor came across as defensive, which only heightened Jason’s suspicion.
Vanessa remained cool. “Doctor Ellard, no one is saying your wife was murdered. That is not the purpose of us being here today.”
“I guess it couldn’t be, since she isn’t dead.”
“True enough, but our involvement is triggered by the inability of Doctor Henderson to diagnose the cause of your wife’s illness. Under state law, certain procedures have to be followed. Our presence is part of that.”
Ellard sighed. “Fine. What do you need to know?”
“Let’s just go over your day, right up until you found your wife.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back even farther. “I was up early because I needed to be in Austin for a court case. I was consulting for the defense.”
“What time did you leave?”
“About seven-forty-five, I believe.”
“Was Mrs. Ellis awake?”
“Yes. She was still having breakfast when I left.”
“Did she appear normal?”
“Yes.” He shrugged. “Same as every day.”
“What did she have for breakfast?”
“A bowl of oatmeal with half and half on it. Also the same as every day.”
Jason made a note to check the oatmeal and cream specifically. “What time did you get to Austin?”
Ellard answered without looking at him. “Nine-thirty.”
“And what time did you leave to return?”
“Around two in the afternoon.”
Jason had made the drive many times. “That put you back in town about three-thirty, correct?”
“No. It was close to five—in fact, I remember looking at the clock when Destiny called me—it was four-forty-five.”
“Why so late? Did you make a stop along the way?”
“No. There was wreck near New Braunfels and it tied me up for nearly ninety minutes.”
Jason liked the detail. It would be easy to verify.
Vanessa leaned forward. “Tell us exactly what happened from the moment you arrived home.”
“Well, let’s see. Janet’s car was in the driveway, so I wasn’t particularly concerned…”
“So you were expecting to find your wife home?”
“Well, actually, no. But when Destiny called, she said Janet wasn’t feeling well after lunch and had gone home.”
Vanessa glanced back at him, and he let hi
s eyes flare.
Vanessa turned back. “So, Destiny is your receptionist?”
“Correct. She’s been with us for six years.”
“And according to Destiny, your wife had started feeling sick after lunch?”
Jason put a line through the oatmeal and cream. The time span between breakfast and the illness was too long.
“That’s right. Janet had some late afternoon appointments, but she had Destiny reschedule them.”
“And that’s why you weren’t surprised to see your wife’s car in the driveway?”
“Right.”
“Okay, please continue.”
“Anyway, I went inside, dropped my stuff while calling Janet’s name, but got no answer. I grabbed a Coke from the fridge, then headed back to the bedroom. That’s when I heard a moan. I went into our room and found her sprawled across the bed, unresponsive.”
“That’s when you called nine-one-one.”
“Yes.”
Jason frowned. “Why did Destiny call you?”
Ellard finally looked up at him. “She was worried about Janet. Said she couldn’t reach her all afternoon.”
“Did she say why she was trying to reach Mrs. Ellard?”
“Some sort of a scheduling issue with the cancelled appointments.”
Jason nodded and made a note.
Vanessa apparently remembered more about Doctor Ellard than he did. “You have a son and daughter, isn’t that correct, sir?”
“Yes. My son is Colton and my daughter is Natasha.”
“Where are they?”
“Colton is in with Janet right now. When I last spoke with her, Tasha was getting out of work. She’ll be driving in tonight.”
“Where does she live?”
“Houston.”
“So you and Mrs. Ellard share a practice, correct?”
“Yes.”
Jason flipped a page on his notepad. “And you were never at the office today?”
“That’s right. I told you, I was in Austin.”
“But you didn’t stop at the office before leaving town, correct?”
Ellard glared at him. “No, I did not stop at the office.”
Vanessa and Jason exchanged looks. Jason shrugged.
Vanessa turned to Ellard. “Thank you, sir. We’ll let you get back to your wife. Again, we’re very sorry.”
A TWISTED MIND (Clean Suspense) (Detective Jason Strong Book 21) Page 2
