Page 24 of Relentless
“There’s only one scorpion endemic to the Houston area, and its sting is similar to a bee’s,” Ethan said.
Sabina’s brows pulled together, and she frowned. “Okay, so the whole scorpion angle is weird. But if we put that aside, is there a way to cause heart failure without an obvious trauma?”
Kara licked the doughnut sugar from her fingers as she considered the question. He wanted to be those fingers. Or do the licking himself. He wasn’t picky that way.
Chad shifted in his seat, drawing Ethan’s attention away from Kara. When he looked over, his cousin cocked a brow. Then the side of his mouth tipped up in a grin that was half question, half taunt. Ethan narrowed his eyes and resisted the urge to flip him off. He and Kara had just put a toe over the line this morning. He did not need his family jumping into the mix and saying—or doing—anything that would make Kara back off again.
“There are probably other ways,” Kara said, bringing them back to the conversation. “But the most obvious way to cause heart failure would be to inject a sizable air bubble into the bloodstream. A big enough bubble could interrupt the rhythm of the heart and cause it to malfunction to the point of shutting down.”
“How long would that take?” Chad asked.
“How long would what take? The injection or, once injected, time to death?” Kara clarified.
“Either? Both?” Chad responded.
“The injection wouldn’t take long if you have training. And the time it would take to impact the heart depends on the injection site. An injection into an artery would be faster than one into a vessel.”
“Would there be evidence of the air in the system after death?” Ethan asked.
“Undoubtedly,” Kara responded. “But the pathologist would need to specifically look for it. It’s not my specialty, but I believe certain equipment and procedures can be used to identify what is, essentially, an air embolism. If those aren’t used, though, it’s possible it could have gone undetected. Any chance medical images were taken of this hypothetical case we’re talking about?” Kara asked.
Ethan shook his head. “Just standard stuff. Tox screen and an examination of the body.”
Silence fell across the porch as they all pondered Shelley White’s death. They might never know for certain, but an injection of air into the bloodstream seemed like a solid option to consider.
“Maybe the scorpion was used to incapacitate her andthenshe was injected with air,” Kara posited. When everyone looked at her, she continued. “Certain types of scorpion venom are being studied for their medicinal value. There are some early signs that it might help prevent the spread of specific cancers. But I think there’s another being looked at because it can temporarily paralyze the body. Which, as you can imagine, could be very helpful in surgery.”
“If it was injected, would it have the same side effects that you mentioned? The swelling and discoloration?” Ethan asked.
Kara shrugged. “I don’t know. The topic came up on an assignment a year or so ago. One of the nurses found a scorpion in his room. We were running low on supplies and another doctor jokingly suggested we start milking the creepy creatures. It sparked a conversation on the topic. But that’s the extent of my knowledge on the research.”
“If someonedidkill her, I can see why they’d want to incapacitate her before injecting the air bubble,” Ethan said. “It would bea loteasier if she wasn’t fighting back.” And it would explain the lack of evidence of a struggle.
“Of course, we’re assuming she was murdered. It’s possible she wasn’t,” Kara said. “I agree that sudden, unexplained heart failure is weird. But so is murdering someone with a combination of scorpion venom and air bubbles.”
He had to give her that. It was weird—an unusual method as well as an elaborate one. Needlessly elaborate if all the killer—assuming there was a killer—wanted was for her to be dead.
“And what about Sunil?” Kara asked. “Causing heart failure is one thing. But causing a single-car accident is another. Is thereanyway to prove someone was involved in that?”
Chad sighed and reached for a second doughnut. “There are lots of ways itcouldhappen. But no easy way to prove any of them unless evidence was left at the scene.”
“Which it wasn’t,” Ethan said.
“Which brings us to the overarching question. Why would someone want them dead?” Sabina asked. “Since both deaths could easily be the accidents or tragedies that they appear to be rather than murder, is there a reason we should think it’s murder?”
Kara shook her head. “That I don’t know. Sunil and I worked together twice. But as I said to Ethan, he didn’t socialize much so I didn’t know him well. I knew Shelley better, but working with someone on assignment isn’t like traveling with a friend. I’m not going to describe it well, but even though we were friends, we didn’t talk about a lot of personal stuff. Our relationship was based on our shared experiences. Not swapping stories of home. Because of that, I really don’t know much about her life in Houston.”
“I can have Ava and the team look into it,” Sabina said. Chad nodded, and a little weight lifted from Ethan’s chest. He didn’t care for loose ends, and there were too many for his liking when it came to this situation.
Ethan started to thank Sabina, but a sound caught his attention, and he snapped his mouth closed. Cocking his head, he listened. A rumble he recognized, but hadn’t expected, echoed across the lake. His gaze shot to Chad. “Did you know he was home?”
“Does anyone ever know anything about his schedule? I think the only time we can be sure where he’ll be is when he’s onstage.”
“What are you talking about?” Kara asked.
“That boat engine…do you hear it?” Ethan said. She turned her ear toward the lake, then nodded. It was a very distinctive engine. And hard to miss. “That’s Cody.”
“Or his boat, at least,” Sabina said.
