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Authors: Aimée & David Thurlo

Bad Medicine (27 page)

BOOK: Bad Medicine
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“I’ve got work to do. If you have something to say, then say it, but if not, then get out of my home.”

Chambers focused on the .45 again, wiping the action with a cloth he’d sprayed with a silicon product. He refused
to look at either of them. Ella realized this was one guy who would never crack.

“Thanks for your time,” Ella said, then added, “We’ll be talking to the next competitor on our list. It’s strange how people tell you things, even when they’re trying to keep cool. That’s what led us here. Have a nice day.”

Chambers stopped cleaning his pistol and met her gaze. “Who told you to come here?”

“He
asked us to keep his name out of it, but thanks for your cooperation.”

Blalock burst out laughing when they reached the car. “Now you’re starting to think like me.”

“Hopefully the con will make him nervous. Let’s see what he does now.”

They parked about a block down and kept an eye on Chambers place, but he never left.

“Too bad we don’t have enough to get a court order and tap his phone,”
Ella commented.

“Yeah. He could have called half a dozen people by now.” Blalock started the car again. “I’m going to take you back to your vehicle.”

An hour later, she was on her way to the office. Clouds dotted the horizon and again the winds whipped the desert sand into a crazed frenzy.

Hearing her cellular’s ring, Ella picked it up and identified herself.

Justine’s voice sounded strained
as she said, “There’s something strange going on.”

“That statement leaves a lot of room for interpretation.”

“Joseph, Sergeant Neskahi, didn’t come in to work today. At first I thought he’d gotten an early start and was off talking to that cousin of his, or interviewing miners, but nobody’s seen him since yesterday.”

Ella felt a chill travel over her. Now she understood the restlessness that
had plagued her before. She’d sensed something wrong, though she’d been unable to define it. Not having heard from Neskahi must have stayed in her subconscious. Her family, however, would have explained it much differently.

Ella focused her thoughts. “Did you check his home?”

“He moved a week ago to a trailer, but he didn’t report his new address. At the moment we’re trying to figure out where
it’s parked.”

“Ask either Phillip or Michael Cloud. They might know. I’ll be at the station in another ten minutes.”

Ella felt a sense of urgency tugging at her. Neskahi was a good cop, he wouldn’t have gone undercover without notifying them. To stay out of contact like this, particularly after she’d warned him against it, was not his style. There was only one explanation for his failure to
report in. He was unable to do so. The possible explanations for that were endless, and all equally alarming.

By the time Ella arrived at the station her body felt as if a giant bolt of lightning had traveled through it. Her hair stood out as if electrified, and her skin felt as if a million ants were crawling over her. The sense of danger grew with every passing second.

She hurried toward the
door and met Justine coming out. “Anything yet?”

“I was going to call you on the cellular once I was on my way. Phillip knew the location of the trailer.” She handed Ella a map as they walked back out toward her Jeep.

Ella studied it for a second, then handed the map back to Justine. “Let’s go. I’ll drive. You can navigate if I get lost.”

Ella turned on the sirens and hurried out of Shiprock.
It was past dinnertime and most people were at home now. The kids would drive in and around the community, cruising, but there wasn’t enough action to draw them out on the open road toward Gallup.

Her thoughts raced ahead to Neskahi. “Does he have any neighbors who could check on him?”

“No. Phillip said we were closer to him than just about anyone else, providing we were willing to travel cross
country. Turn here.”

“Right,” Ella said, braking hard, then pulling off into a dry wash. The Jeep slid, but quickly straightened out in response to Ella’s expert touch at the wheel. Frustrated by the uneven center that pulled the Jeep from side to side, Ella was forced to slow down. She was shifting down when they hit a bump and Ella heard a sharp crack. Taking her eyes off the ground ahead for
a second, she saw Justine rubbing her head with one hand.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she grumbled.

“Hang on.”

It took another ten minutes for them to arrive. Ella glanced around. Besides Neskahi’s trailer and pickup, there was not much else out here.

Ella knocked on the door and it swung open, hinges squealing. “Sergeant?”

There was something eerie about the silence flowing out from the interior.
Ella drew her weapon, and saw Justine do the same.

Moving quickly, Ella went in, keeping her back to the wall. Justine followed. There was no sign of a struggle. Ella moved down the hall, then, with Justine behind her, searched the bedroom.

The trailer was spartanly furnished, with only bare essentials. It was definitely a man’s place, for a man who didn’t spend much time at home.

Justine went
into the last room, and Ella slipped past her, checking the bathroom.

“We need an ambulance,” Ella yelled the second she stepped inside.

Neskahi, still in uniform, was curled up on the floor in front of the sink, his body jerking slightly from muscle spasms. But at least there was no sign of blood.

Ella crouched beside him and felt the pulse point at his neck. His heart was strong, but his
breathing was labored. Remembering the rash of poisonings, her skin went cold. “He may have been poisoned,” she called out. “Ask for permission to transport now.”

Justine returned a moment later and handed her the phone. “The doctor wants to talk to you.”

Ella described Neskahi’s condition to Dr. Natoni, reminding him of the other poisonings. “Transport,” Dr. Natoni said. “Do you suspect any
particular toxin?”

“It could be jimsonweed, or monkshood or something else entirely, I just don’t know.” Remembering she still had the remedy for jimsonweed, Ella asked the doctor for permission to use it. “If it isn’t jimsonweed, it won’t hurt him. But if it is, it may help.”

“All right, do it,” Natoni agreed. “Just don’t let him choke. Then get moving. The faster you get him here, the better
chance he’ll have.”

“Understood.” Ella closed the phone unit, then placed a pinch of the herb inside the sergeant’s lips. Grabbing Neskahi under his arms, she motioned to Justine. “Let’s go. Every second counts.”

SIXTEEN

Ella waited in the lobby as the emergency room team worked on Joseph Neskahi.

Justine’s face looked drawn. “I can’t believe that someone would try to kill him. He’s part of our team, yes, but his death wouldn’t have accomplished anything. We would have gone on with our investigation.”

“It would have affected us, though, whether or not we admit it, and it would have sent a message to
everyone we’ve been dealing with that we’re unable to keep even our own people safe.”

“Is it possible that Joseph stumbled onto something that made the killer nervous?”

“Sure, but we won’t know about that until he can talk to us. While we’re waiting, I want you to track down what he was doing before this happened. He may not have filed an official report yet, but Neskahi is methodical. Look
at his notes, then check his computer at the station. See what you can turn up.”

As Justine left, Ella went to the elevator. She’d stay in touch with the hospital, but for now, she had things to attend to. She intended to return to Neskahi’s home and search it and his pickup from top to bottom. Perhaps there was a clue there.

As the elevator doors slid open, she heard her name being called.
Dr. Natoni, the Chief of Emergency Medicine at the hospital, waved to her. Ella approached him, bracing herself for whatever news he might have.

“I think he’s going to be okay,” he said somberly.

Ella breathed, “That’s great news! Why are you so glum?”

He smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s the implications of this that bother me. The hospital is going to come under fire, and that’s the last thing we
need.”

“Under fire? You’ve lost me.”

“We were running out of time trying to identify the toxin that was killing the sergeant. Then one of our interns remembered a report downstairs this morning about a missing bottle of furosemide.”

“Of what?”

“It’s a drug used as a diuretic for patients with congestive heart failure, among other things. Our pharmacist discovered a bottle missing right after
Dr. Roanhorse went in to get some allergy medications. They have several med students working down there, and the pharmacist was worried that it might have been mislabeled. Since some of Neskahi’s symptoms matched an overdose of that drug, like bleeding under the skin, labored breathing, and muscle spasms, we added potassium through the IV while we checked. He began to improve even before we had
confirmation that furosemide
was
the toxin in his system. We’ve checked. The sergeant wasn’t on that drug as therapy. Neskahi’s still got a long road ahead, but what caused his collapse was severe dehydration and electrolyte depletion. We’re making sure he gets what his body needs most right now.”

The mention of Carolyn’s name in conjunction with the missing medication made Ella’s stomach clench.
She could see a new possibility emerging. What had happened to Neskahi wasn’t just a poisoning, it was part of a frame-up, and she now needed to know how the drug had been administered.

“I should be able to release him in a few days,” Dr. Natoni continued, “but he’s going to have to take it easy for about a week or so. This is going to leave him feeling pretty weak.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Thoughts
racing, Ella watched Natoni return to the ER. There was no need to go to Neskahi’s trailer now. Her first stop would be the pharmacy downstairs.

Ella went directly there. The pharmacy was directly over the morgue, one story above. The proximity to the place where her friend worked would undoubtedly come into play. Carolyn would soon come under as vicious an attack as Neskahi. Ella could feel
that in her bones.

The pharmacist, a middle-aged Anglo man, came out from behind a metal shelf stocked with medications. “Yes? Can I help you?”

Ella flashed her badge and saw him tense. “I need to ask you a few questions about the missing bottle of furosemide.”

“They called the police? I assure you, we’re tracking it down right now. It just takes time—”

She held up her hand. “It’s more complicated
than that. The emergency room just treated a man who almost died from furosemide poisoning.”

The man’s face slowly turned ashen. “Did he take the medication thinking it was something else because it had been mislabeled?”

“No.”

He reached for the counter, bracing himself. “Then it
was
stolen from here.”

Ella opened her arms, palms outward and shrugged. “You tell me. When did you discover it
was missing?”

“This morning. It was a madhouse here. I’ve got two students working full-time, and we’d just received a shipment of drugs, all controlled substances. Those have to be catalogued and entered in separate databases. Unfortunately, at the same time, three medical teams were leaving for inoculation clinics and they needed orders filled quickly. Dr. Roanhorse, who’d come in for allergy
pills, ended up helping us for a while, mostly typing up labels and the like, but then she had to leave. It wasn’t until noon, when I was asked to send up some furosemide, that I realized an entire stock bottle of the liquid form of that drug was missing.”

Ella tried to shake the sinking feeling in her stomach. “Did anyone else help out during that crisis?”

“Her med student, Dr. Natoni, and
a couple of the orderlies.”

“It was the Death Doctor,” Nelson Yellowhair said, coming into the pharmacy, his gaze hard.

“I beg your pardon?” Ella challenged coldly.

“You
know
what happened, or you should. The sergeant, the one that was poisoned, was here earlier and had coffee with your friend, the Death Doctor. Did she forget to mention that?”

Ella kept her face expressionless. She would
not give the orderly the satisfaction of knowing how the accusations worried her. “I haven’t spoken to Dr. Roanhorse yet. Maybe you’d like to enlighten me.”

“The sergeant had coffee with the Death Doctor, then was going to pick up a file he’d left at home before going to see you. I guess something in the coffee disagreed with him.”

“How do you know so much about his plans?”

“I overhead them
talking.”

“Thanks for your cooperation,” Ella clipped.

Ella went around him and walked down the flight of stairs to Carolyn’s office. Things were starting to look really bad for her friend. Knowing the way gossip traveled on the Rez, and how nicknames stuck, she realized she had to work fast before irreparable harm was done. There was no doubt in her mind that Carolyn was the victim of a frame.
Carolyn was incapable of harming anyone. Even in self-defense, she doubted Carolyn would ever use deadly force.

Carolyn glanced up as Ella came in. “Gads, you look like hell. What happened?”

Ella took a seat across the desk from Carolyn and filled her in. Carolyn’s expression remained guarded throughout.

“Someone’s trying to frame me,” Carolyn said, when Ella finished.

“I know. But I’m going
to have check your coffeepot as well as look around the rest of the morgue.”

“I insist.” Carolyn placed the coffeepot in a plastic bag and sealed it, then handed the bag to Ella. “Don’t let it spill. You’ll want the contents of the trash, too, including the thrown-out foam cups we use. Let’s go to your vehicle together. That way you’ll be able to testify that I didn’t tamper with the scene while
you were getting evidence pouches.”

Ella and Carolyn returned a few minutes later. Wearing rubber gloves, Ella sifted through the hazardous materials disposal containers and the trash, searching everything from traces of the stock bottle to signs of spilled liquid. She recovered several foam coffee cups, some with lipstick smudges. After a thorough search of the morgue, Ella walked to the door.
“I’m sorry I had to do this.”

BOOK: Bad Medicine
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