POISON: An ER Thriller (ER Crimes, the Steele Files Book 3) by Rada Jones MD

Author:Rada Jones MD [Jones MD, Rada]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Apolodor
Published: 2019-12-19T16:00:00+00:00

36

Emma tried to run, but her legs were heavy as lead. A hooded figure leaned over her, bringing a beaker half-full of a bright-green bubbly potion to her lips. She tried to push it away, but she couldn’t. The liquid was so close that the bubbles sprayed her skin. The smell of bitter almonds choked her.

She screamed and sat up covered in cold sweat.

“I know what it is. It’s poison.”

Woken up from a sound sleep, just as she was about to catch the neighbor’s orange cat, Guinness jumped up and ran to the door, growling. Nobody. She looked around. Nothing. She looked at Emma, her head cocked in a question.

“What?”

“Somebody is poisoning them.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re assholes. It must be some religious lunatic punishing the sinners to prove his love of God. But that’s not the question. The question is how? And with what?”

Guinness yawned and lay back to get some rest. Maybe even get the cat, too. She didn’t think she was needed here.

She was wrong. Emma needed to talk through all this, and she needed her advice. She shook Guinness awake.

“What?”

“I know what you’re thinking. How about the toxicology report? It’s still pending. That’s what toxicology reports do. They take forever.”

Guinness was thinking no such thing. She didn’t give a hoot about the toxicology reports. She turned on the other side, trying to go back to sleep. No luck. Emma was on a roll.

“It will be weeks before they return. By that time, someone could poison half the North Country. And it looks like they are.”

Toxicology had never been Emma’s strength. Just like Guinness, she thought it boring. No more. She had to learn, but she needed help.

Where would she get it? Sal was good, but his strength was not in poisons. His forte was overdoses and antidotes. The closest Poison Control Center was hundreds of miles away. It took a full day to get there and return, let alone spend time to learn. And Emma didn’t have a full day.

She could call, of course, but she wouldn’t get a toxicologist. She’d speak to one of the people operating the phones who told parents to take their kids to the ER if they’d swallowed anything but their food, then telling the ER to get an EKG, give charcoal, and watch them for six hours.

And even if she got a toxicologist, what would she say? “Hello? I think somebody is poisoning our assholes. They vomit, and then they die.” How would that go? No. She needed to speak to somebody in person. Somebody who knew about poisons and could tell her what to look for.

What if I went to the university? They have scores of PhDs and researchers who love this kind of thing. Maybe they’d talk to me.

But who? Should she try the biology department? Or chemistry? She didn’t think they had a poison department. She found the address, put on some clothes instead of her eternal scrubs, and headed out way too early. The doors didn’t open until eight.

The

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