Devil Wind (Sammy Greene Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page A

of sparks and was soon immolated under the intrusive lens of the helicopter cameras.
    I hope they had time to get out.
    Unlike Brian. She swallowed a sob at the memory of losing her old friend more than four years ago. The pain was no longer there every day, but when it returned, it was as potent as ever. The fire inside her college’s rickety radio station had trapped her talk-show engineer, burning him alive. His warm smile and loving soul would be scorched into her heart forever.
    “Ten seconds,” Jim’s voice interrupted. “You okay?”
    Nodding, she switched on her mic and began on cue, “We’re back, let’s talk to Bill from Bel Air. You’re not anywhere near the fires, are you?”
    “Hi. Actually, yeah. The smoke’s pretty bad, so we’re getting out. But, that’s not why I called. We can’t get through to 911, and I need to tell somebody about the burned body we almost ran over on Roscomare Road.”
     
    Ana tried deep breathing to quell the adrenaline surge that had fueled her maniacal drive to the hospital. Pulling up to the emergency room entrance, she jumped out of the Mercedes and ran into the lobby screaming, “He’s having a heart attack.” Then she watched, terrified, as a tall blonde doctor whose nametag read “Michelle Hunt, M.D.” and two nurses raced to the car and pulled the barely conscious congressman onto a gurney.
    “He clutched his chest and just blacked out,” she explained, her voice trembling. Prescott’s color was no longer his ruddy hue, but a cadaverous ashen. “Is he dead?”
    Intent on their tasks, no one bothered to answer. The gurney rolled into the triage area with Ana in tow. “BP one sixty over one ten, pulse one thirty,” a nurse called out. The doctor nodded, tossing her stethoscope back around her neck. “Heart sounds are faint,” she reported to a large-breasted nurse behind the triage desk, “rule out MI.”
    When the doctor pushed Prescott through another set of doors, one of the nurses thrust a hand in Ana’s face. “Sorry, you can’t go back. Have a seat in the waiting area. We’ll call you as soon as your husband’s stable.”
    Ana stood motionless for a long minute, dazed, and deaf to the world.
    “Your car, miss?” the desk clerk repeated. “If it’s out here, you’ll have to park around the side.” He handed her a four by eight card. “Put this on the dashboard.”
    Ana accepted the parking permit and walked out without a word.
     
    The radiology tech bounded into the nurses’ station and headed for the boombox. “Turn on the news. Fire!”
    Lou rolled his eyes. “Hope it’s not nearby, or we’ll be bombed tonight.”
    Paused in his charting, the ortho resident reluctantly aimed the remote at the TV mounted on the far wall, switching it from the sports update to cable news. The screen showed video of a blazing hillside while the crawl scrolled locations of mandatory evacuations that encompassed some of L.A.’s richest neighborhoods. Very close to the hospital.
    “Bombs away,” Lou announced just as the buxom triage nurse strode in barking orders.
    “Nobody leave the area, We’ve got three on the way. One GSW, one burn victim, and one spaced-out starlet. ETA for all three is ten minutes.” She pointed to the desk clerk, “Keep the paparazzi out of here, all right?”
    Lou saluted with four fingers. “Aye-aye, cap’n.”
    Frowning, the nurse spun to face Reed. “Dr. Wyndham, would you please come with me?”
    Reed put down his coffee. “Sure. What you got?”
    “Rule out MI.”
    Reed followed her, registering surprise. As a cardiac fellow, he was usually called to see a patient after the ER resident had finished an examination, ordered appropriate tests, and made the diagnosis of myocardial infarction.
    “Who’s the resident on the case?” Reed asked as he caught up to the triage nurse.
    “Dr. Bishop wants you to take over this one. He’s on his way in, but he lives in the Palisades, and the fires are backing up