Savannah Blood by J. C. O'Neil

Author:J. C. O'Neil [O'Neil, J. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-29T05:00:00+00:00

“Dr. Stemson, to what do we owe the pleasure? Twice in just a few days.” Dr. Manuelo looks up from his desk when his office door opens.

“I heard what the body count is today and thought you can use an extra hand.”

“That’s most unusual.” He mutters then adds. “Though much appreciated.”

“What are you working on?”

“The schedule board. That boating accident put us behind, and I’ve got one Assistant on vacation, a new one that is a new hire and well, new, and of course one I can’t get funding for.”

“Well maybe if they see me spending time here rather than at the functions the Board wants me at, they’ll open up the purse strings a little.”

“That would be nice.” He looks up wishfully.

“So who don’t you have scheduled?”

“There are actually three. The teenage suicide, a Jewish gentleman who I don’t think we’re going to get permission for an autopsy, his relatives want him released YESTERDAY, then the DOA from down at Calder Creek.”

“Do you have a cause of death for the Jewish gentleman?”

He flips through some of his papers. “Automobile accident, possible heart attack, all the usual signs.” Dr. Manuelo explains.

“Any other cars or people involved?”

“No, a one car accident, he missed a curve on SR 34 hit a tree. All signs are that the car was slowing down but no brake applied.”

“Give him a COD of heart attack and release him. If the police department hasn’t gotten a writ already they’re out of luck. Go ahead and call the man’s family, let them pick him up. Why don’t I take the teenager and the Calder Creek body? That should open things up for you.”

“That would be too much to ask Dr. Stemson.”

“Not at all, just have the tech bring both bodies up to the third floor, I’ll take the exhibition room.”

“That will be fine, fine, we don’t have any students coming over.” He picks up the phone and gives the orders. Finishing the schedule on the computer he pushes enter. The schedule boards outside his office, and by the elevators on the third floor flash. The schedule is posted. Isn’t technology great.

Margaurite uses the elevator up to the third floor. Entering the autopsy room she dons a green scrub gown, mask and gloves. Setting the room up the way she likes it while waiting for the techs to bring up the bodies. Several times she catches herself staring through the glass walls surrounding the autopsy suite. The hairs at the nape of her neck are standing on end and she finds herself wiping her hands on her scrubs as if to dry them regardless of the gloves. Outside the glass on three sides of the room is bleacher seating for teaching. The seating area is dark now, making it difficult to see anything but shadow. Turning Margaurite catches movement out of the corner of her eye, but then it is gone, still her senses tell her she is being watched, just as they had the other day.

Pulling out her cell phone she calls the house.

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