Killer Insight by Karoline Anderson

Author:Karoline Anderson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Catalyst Press

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I can’t get back to sleep after the urine-tasting experience. Abigail Moore is usually one of my favorite past lives to dream about. I found her in a photo of nursing graduates from the Woman’s Hospital of Philadelphia Training School for Nurses in 1871. This was one of the first nursing schools in the country. From my past dreams, I know her to have been a dedicated nurse who cared deeply about her patients. Dreaming about her experiences has allowed me to see many wounds and injuries first-hand. As homicide detectives, we often encounter victims with unusual injuries that need explanation. Seeing how injuries appear in the living has helped me to better understand how they may have been inflicted on a murder victim. I’ve never witnessed the tasting of urine before though. How can this be helpful?

I brush my teeth to get the imaginary taste out of my mouth, then strap on my gun and pull on a sweatshirt and pants. Distracted, I hastily tie my shoes and head outside, starting my run at a fast pace.

It’s not until I’ve gone a few blocks that I realize I forgot to vary my route. I’ll just cross the street and double back, I think. This will take me in a different direction from my usual path through the neighborhood.

As I step off the sidewalk between two parked cars to cross the street, I almost run into the back quarter panel of a passing car. At the last minute, I put my left arm on the car and jump back, just missing full impact with the car by inches. The movement sends me flailing backwards and I trip over my partially tied shoelaces, smashing my left wrist into the pavement as I land awkwardly on it. Pain shoots up my arm.

I can’t see the car I hit because my view is blocked by one of parked cars lining the street. After a moment to recover myself, I jump to my feet and look for the car. The driver didn’t stop, and the car is no longer in sight. To be fair, the driver may not have noticed I almost ran into the back of his car. Clearly the accident was my fault. I hold my injured wrist. Is it my imagination or is it already starting to swell and bruise? I jog back to my apartment, babying my wrist, and awkwardly pull off my running clothes to survey the damage. There are a few bruises and scrapes, most of which I can hide under my clothing. My hands are a little scraped up but no active bleeding. I shower, washing everything well, gritting my teeth at the sting of the hot water and soap. I pull on my work clothes and gun holster with one hand.

At this point, I’m forced to make a choice about my left wrist. Does it need immediate care or not? I look at the blooming blue bruise and swelling and decide I’m going to have to visit the Emergency Room.

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