Death Deserved (A Detective Jackson Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the engine, then put in her earpiece so she could take calls while she drove. For the next forty-eight hours, the shooting case would be critical. If a witness came forward or a new suspect popped up, she needed to be available for anything. Investigations were supposed to be methodical, but often some small detail could make the whole team drop everything and pursue a new lead. Self-discipline and routine, with the potential for impulse and adrenaline. She loved all these elements, so the job suited her.
    She took the expressway and arrived at the hospital ten minutes later. The complex sat along prime riverfront property, with gorgeous views from patient rooms and a lobby with a massive stone fireplace that ski resorts would have envied. Evans drove around to the Emergency Department entrance in back, hoping to find Kayla Benson, or whoever she was, in the trauma center. With a growing sense of urgency, she parked and hurried to the entrance. If the victim was using an alias, her identity could be the key to the whole crime.
    Evans approached the desk, ignoring two young men waiting, and held out her badge for the admitting clerk. “Detective Evans. I need to see the woman who just came in with a gunshot wound. This is a homicide investigation.”
    The clerk scowled. “That was nearly an hour ago. I’m sure she’s in surgery now.”
    “Please locate her so I can fingerprint her as soon as possible.”
    “Do you know her name?”
    “She didn’t have any ID on her, but she goes by Kayla Benson.”
    “Oh right.” The clerk hit a few buttons on her keyboard, then scanned her monitor. “Like I said, she’s in surgery on the second floor. There’s a big waiting room up there.”
    Evans started to walk away, then spun back. “Where can I find Sergeant Denise Lammers?”
    One of the young men waiting cleared his throat. Evans grinned at him.
    After a moment, the clerk said, “She’s in the ICU. Third floor, room three seventeen.”
    “Thanks.”
    Evans didn’t see any stairs, so she took the elevator instead. Normally, she exercised at every opportunity, including a kickboxing workout in the morning and a two- or three-mile run in the evening, just so she could sleep after an intense day. Her body produced a lot of energy, and she had to find ways to burn it off. The SWAT training she’d done—dragging a one-hundred-eighty-pound roll of carpet around the backyard—had kicked her ass every night for months. She would have to do it again in nine months to retake the physical.
    The ICU had a locked entrance, so she buzzed the nurses’ station and was finally let in. She introduced herself to a middle-aged male nurse in blue scrubs, then asked, “What can you tell me about Denise Lammers’ condition?”
    “She’s still critical, but she has moments of being lucid.”
    “What poisoned her?”
    “We don’t know yet. We’re still waiting on lab results. But it takes time, and we can’t test for everything.”
    That wasn’t encouraging. “What’s the best guess?”
    “It’s hard to say. The vomiting and dizziness could indicate an amatoxin or even something like arsenic.”
    “Where does amatoxin come from?”
    “Poisonous mushrooms. But nothing is confirmed. We’ve called the poison control center in Portland, but they won’t rule out E. coli without lab samples.”
    People sometimes died from that infection. They moved down the hall together, and Evans resisted looking at the other patients. She’d been injured on the job a few times, but she had never been seriously ill and couldn’t stand to be around sick people. A shortcoming, for sure. The nurse stopped in front of a door. “If she starts vomiting, you might want to leave.”
    Evans walked into the room, and a short, stout woman sat up from the padded bench seat under the window.
    “You must be Detective Evans.” The woman approached. “I’m Susan.”
    Evans glanced at the hospital bed. Lammers took up most of it, and her eyes were