Page 57 of Hidden Hero

“His neighbor down the street. He called to ask if Mr. Snodgrass needed anything from the store, but he didn’t get an answer—unusual for him. The neighbor said he had a bad feeling. He had a key, which was given to him by Mr. Snodgrass’s son in case of emergencies. When he let himself in this morning, he found him on the bathroom floor.”

Cora nodded, absorbing the details. Behind her, Carl and Janice arrived, parking next to her vehicle. She slipped protective covers over her shoes before stepping inside.

The house was orderly, with wide spaces between the furniture—a clear accommodation for mobility aids like walkers or wheelchairs. The lack of clutter and visible signs of struggle reassured her initial assessment.

In the hallway, she passed family photos arranged neatly in frames. Pausing at an open bedroom door, she noted the unmade bed and an overturned walker on the floor. Her gaze shifted to the en suite bathroom, where the body lay sprawled.

She stepped closer, confirming that Mr. Snodgrass was indeed deceased. “Time of death,” she called out, her voice carrying to Carl, who had begun documenting the scene with his camera. She leaned closer and whispered to the old man, “I’ll take care of you.”

Standing, she began looking around. The bathroom offered little in the way of immediate answers. A cup, toothbrush, toothpaste, and electric razor sat undisturbed on the sink. She picked up the cup with a gloved hand and noted it was dry inside. She opened the mirrored medicine cabinet and found several prescription bottles, all empty and labeled for Hank Snodgrass.

She turned to the deputy standing behind Janice. “I’ll need evidence bags for these.”

As Carl continued taking pictures, she and the deputy searched the rest of the house, checking drawers, nightstands, and even the kitchen. They found no other medications or pills.

“Ready to move the body?” Carl asked, stepping back into the room.

“I think we may need to wait,” she replied.

He glanced at the bagged prescriptions in the deputy’s hands, his expression grim. “Damn. Another one of these?”

Cora nodded. “It’s happening too often—elderly patients found dead, their medications gone. We don’t know yet, but I’m seeing a pattern.”

“Want me to call the detectives?” the deputy asked.

“Yes,” Cora replied. “Detectives Pickett and Bolton are already working similar cases. If they’re nearby, I’ll wait. Otherwise, they can follow up with me at the morgue.”

After placing the call, the deputy said, “Detective Pickett said they’re on their way.”

“Thank you,” Cora said, exhaling deeply as she prepared for the next phase of her investigation. As she wandered to the door, she noticed the security camera on the door. Lifting a brow, she walked back into the house.

As more law enforcement arrived, she continually glanced out the window, searching for Jeremy. Her heart leaped as soon as he pulled up, and her lips curved.

Her gaze swept over him as he approached the house, each step fluid and self-assured. His muscular frame moved quickly, bolstering the quiet confidence he exuded.

When he reached the door, she was already there to meet him. She didn’t miss how his eyes twinkled when they landed on her.

“Detective Pickett,” she greeted, her tone steady but warm.

He dipped his head in acknowledgment, a faint smile gracing his lips. “Dr. Wadsworth. We meet again.”

A soft chuckle escaped her as she shook her head, but her demeanor quickly shifted to seriousness. “Before we go any further, take note of the door security camera.”

Jeremy’s brow lifted, his expression sharpening as he nodded. “Good catch. Hopefully, we can pull something useful from it.”

She turned and led him toward the back of the house. As they stepped into the bedroom, her clinical side took over.

“The neighbor identified the deceased as Hank Snodgrass,” she said, gesturing toward the body visible on the bathroom floor. “He lived alone. The neighbor has a key for emergencies and got suspicious when repeated calls went unanswered. He mentioned that the son lives in Suffolk.”

Jeremy’s sharp gaze swept over the room, cataloging details before settling on the body. His silence spoke volumes as he absorbed the scene.

“I’m ready to transport whenever you are,” she continued. “The deputy has bagged the medication bottles—they’re all empty. Prescriptions from Baytown Pharmacy, which we’ve seen in other cases. I’m not labeling this suspicious until I’ve conducted the autopsy, but if the tox screen comes back like the others, and he doesn’t have the medication in his system, then we may have a pattern.”

“Understood,” Jeremy replied, his tone even.

Cora stepped aside as Jeremy and Pete entered the bathroom to investigate. As she watched them work, her mind already began generating potential scenarios.

After several minutes, Pete turned to her. “You can take the body when you’re ready.”

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