Hollow Spring: A Detective Cal Brennan Novel (The Hollow Spring Series Book 1) by Evan Camby

Author:Evan Camby [Camby, Evan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

“Yes, I’d like to speak to Dr. Starling? Liz Reinhardt.”

A pause, then a voice on the other end. “Hey, what’s up?”

She wasted no time with greetings. “Do you remember a Klara Bergman? You saw her in the emergency room?” Dr. Reinhardt asked.

“Oh, yeah, I was going to call you in a few days to check up on that. How’s she doing?”

“Not well, I just had her admitted. Listen, I never got her entire file. Can you send that over? It’s missing your report from the ER.”

“Yeah, sure, I thought I had that sent. I’ll have them send it again.”

“That’s what I thought, but our office never got it,” she said.

“Sorry about that. So what’s up, what are thinking about her?”

Dr. Reinhardt paused, fidgeting with the phone cord for a moment. “I’m not sure. But I am worried about her. I’d like to keep her here for some time.”

“Hey, what’d you think about Donna? I meant to tell you, she said she lost a child years ago. So if she seems overly paranoid, that’s probably the reason. She was worried about something awful in the ER. I swore it was a virus that would pass. Guess I was wrong.” He chewed the inside of one lip on the other end of the phone.

“Well, that makes sense, now that you mention it. And don't beat yourself up, you did your job, ruled out all the major things—meningitis and all that. I would have guessed a virus, too, Jay. I’m probably being overly cautious myself.”

“Thanks. Hey before I forget, recommend a therapist or psychiatrist.”

Liz paused. “For Mrs. Morgan? I agree with you.”

“Actually, I meant for Klara. Did you know she was close with the Gailbraith girl?”

“Really?”

“I saw their picture on the news last night, from cross-country or something. I guess the girls usually went for their runs together, but the morning of the murder, Klara was sick and opted out. Anyhow, I was going to call you because some of it could be psychosomatic. I felt like something was off with her at the examination, and I think now that’s what was bothering me, but I didn’t know about her connection to the murder. I’m concerned she may have some serious depression, maybe even PTSD, or survivor’s guilt,” Dr. Starling said.

Liz took it all in for a moment before responding. “How terrible for her. That would be quite traumatic. Thanks for letting me know. And I’ll keep an eye out for that file, alright?”

“You bet. Send it right over. I’ve gotta go. Bye, Liz. Owe you one.”

Dr. Reinhardt set the phone down and took a seat at her desk. Could it be psychosomatic? Depression? Anxiety?

She took a piece of nicotine gum from a desk drawer and leaned back in the chair, mulling it over. As an internist, Liz often viewed her job as not unlike that of a detective. She evaluated facts and scenarios and people and then arrived at a conclusion. The human body, in her estimation, was the greatest puzzle in the world.

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