Page 82 of Shadow of Death
She glanced over at Sean.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I will be here, watching over them.”
“Thank you,” Amy murmured.
Hunter nodded to him. His phone was vibrating, and he reached quickly into his pocket for it. The call was from the hospital.
He glanced quickly at Sean, but the agent just frowned. Stepping aside, Hunter answered the phone.
“Special Agent Hunter Forrest?” a male voice queried.
“Yes. Who is speaking?” Hunter said.
“This is Dr. Clay, Lawrence Clay, and I’ve been told you’re lead investigator on a case involving a man who was brought into the ER under arrest.”
“Yes, Dr. Clay, thank you. I was told you were putting him into a medical coma.”
“Yes, that was our plan. But I’m afraid he’s dead.”
“The toxin in his blood? Isn’t it rare to die of snakebite? I understand—”
“The toxins were bad but we could fight them. No, we were working on the toxins, preparing to put him into a medically induced coma. Remember, these are neurotoxins. But...the man was in the ER, he looked up suddenly, ripped his IV needle out of his arm—and plunged it into his heart. Special Agent Forrest, we could have saved him from the snakebite. I’m afraid we couldn’t save him from himself.”
15
Ida Peterson, the owner, was their waitress that night. She was a friendly woman, and her restaurant had offered them a down-home place to eat—and several leads—when the “white horseman” had reigned. Located just off Route 27, the diner might not be in one of the larger cities just east on the coast, but it provided hearty homemade food to the locals in its truly rural area nonetheless.
Hunter had suggested it and Amy had agreed. She didn’t think they’d find many leads this time around, but they did prepare a great pot roast and had the best mashed potatoes Amy had ever tasted.
Ida and her husband, Frank, were older, and they had help. Frank worked in the kitchen as the chef and/or burger flipper, as Ida called his job, and she managed the books and often worked on the floor with other waitstaff. There was a good feeling coming to the café—despite the reasons they had first visited. Ida greeted Hunter warmly and looked at Amy curiously, as if she should recognize her, but didn’t. Ida seemed curious Hunter was here with her, and said politely, “A new partner, Special Agent Forrest?”
“In a way,” Hunter said. Still curious, Ida left them.
“She thinks you’re a drop-dead cheating scoundrel,” Amy said.
“But she didn’t recognize you with the short dark hair. And sadly, I don’t think we should enlighten her right now. Just in case. People inadvertently say things.”
“Right,” Amy agreed. He had finally smiled.
Amy knew he was deeply disturbed by the events of the day—by a man who had been terrified of snakebites killing himself with a long needle.
Rather than face what might happen to him otherwise? That tended to be the way of things.
He was thoughtful and quiet. They had come alone. Another day was over, and when they finished eating, they’d head back to the hotel.
“They told me you two were here!”
Startled, Amy looked up. The person who had arrived was a coworker from the past as well, coworker in a loose sense.
It was Dr. Richard Carver, the medical examiner who had worked with them on the “white horseman” case.
“Dr. Carver,” Hunter said.
“Wow!” he murmured, looking at Amy. “Okay, I won’t stare. You’re doing some kind of undercover?”
“Something like that,” Amy murmured.
“So, Dr. Carver—” Hunter began.
