Chapter 1

Kenzie was just dropping off to sleep when her phone rang, making both her and Zachary jump.

Zachary instantly sat up and reached for his phone, even though it wasn’t his ringtone. He pulled back after touching it, realizing by then that it wasn’t his phone that was ringing. It took longer for Kenzie to rouse herself to some semblance of logical thought and to reach for her phone. Her phone was usually on silent mode so that it would not disturb Zachary at night. In theory, Kenzie would awaken to the phone’s vibration on the side table and be able to silence it and leave the bedroom to take the call without waking Zachary. In reality, he was usually the one who awoke to the vibration and had to shake Kenzie awake to see whether it was an important call.

But tonight, she was on call and had turned the ringer on and set her volume to high so she couldn’t miss a call-out. Dr. Wiltshire had attended two calls in person the night before, so it was his turn to sleep while Kenzie dealt with any calls.

It wasn’t like a call-out was an emergency. It could wait a couple of hours if she didn’t answer the phone immediately. It wasn’t like her patients were going anywhere or would be more dead when she got there.

She liked to get to a scene as early as possible to take temperature readings and talk about the circumstances with the person who had discovered the body and any other witnesses. While most calls that the ME’s office got were routine, she wanted to be on top of it if it were a potential homicide, when details like an accurate time of death could become very important. A whole case could hinge on who was or wasn’t around during the relevant window.

Kenzie blinked hard and picked up her phone. “Medical Examiner’s Office,” she answered, after confirming that the call had been routed through the ME’s office line.

“We need the medical examiner to attend a scene.” The voice on the other end was male. Calm and official. But there was something in the tone of his voice that alerted Kenzie that he was nervous or excited. A slight change in pitch? His breaths coming faster than she would have expected. She couldn’t put her finger on precisely what made him sound young and inexperienced, despite the definite adult timbre of his voice.

“Can I get the details?” Kenzie asked. “Address and what happened?”

It wasn’t a law enforcement officer; she was pretty sure of that. They had their own particular official tone. Much more forceful and confident. Expectation, but also a hint of the routine, of a resignation that the ME might not get there for several hours and they would be left standing around the body waiting for someone to show up.

“Persons Residential Care,” the voice on the other end of the phone informed her, following up with the address. He didn’t answer the “What happened?”

“Got it,” Kenzie agreed. “Can you tell me the circumstances of the death? I’d like to know whether I can get by with the death kit I have with me or whether I need to pick up additional equipment from the office.”

“Well… I don’t know. He just died.”

“He just died?” Kenzie repeated. “In a medical facility?”

“Yes. I don’t know what happened. Someone should come.”

“I’ll be there. No sign of violence? What was the patient in care for?”

“Psychiatric.”

His answers were not particularly helpful and, from the muffled sounds in the background, Kenzie assumed that he was covering the mouthpiece and speaking to someone else, or someone else was talking to him and he didn’t want Kenzie to hear everything being said.

“I’ll be there shortly,” she promised.

He hung up without any thanks or goodbye.

“Everything okay?” Zachary demanded as soon as Kenzie lowered her phone. He ran a hand over his dark buzz-cut and blinked.

“Sure. Just got a call-out.” She shrugged. “We both knew it could happen.”

“People ought to pick a more convenient time to die,” Zachary suggested playfully.

“They should,” Kenzie agreed with a smile. She sighed and got out of bed, putting her phone back on the side table while she stripped off her pajamas and quickly pulled on clothes more appropriate for a scene of death attendance.

“Murder?” Zachary asked.

“No. Medical facility.” She didn’t tell him anything more than that. Not like she could; so far, she was completely in the dark about what had happened.

Kenzie glanced out the window. In the dark was right. The sun had been down for hours. People did choose inconvenient times to die.

“I could drive you,” Zachary suggested. He had done that once or twice before, especially if he thought she was too tired to drive or needed him there for another reason.

But there was no need for him to be around in this case. No indication that it was anything other than a patient dying in his sleep. It was not an uncommon occurrence in a psychiatric facility.

“No, you stay home and get your sleep,” Kenzie told Zachary, even though she knew there was no way he would sleep while she was gone. He would get up and work on his laptop or watch TV. Or just pace. “I don’t know how long I will be, but I’m fine. No need for both of us to be out.”

“I’d be happy to come along…”

“Not necessary. Thanks for the offer, though.”

Zachary sighed. Kenzie knew that he would have preferred to go with her, but she didn’t know how long she would be and didn’t want him sitting around in the car waiting for her to finish her routine tasks at the scene.

Though it wasn’t like he minded spending time sitting in the car. In fact, he chose to sit in it for hours on end when he was on a surveillance job. That was the life of a PI, sometimes. More often than not, he was assigned to keep an eye on someone to learn their schedule, where they worked, whether they were having an affair, or whether they were able to do more than they had told their insurance company after an accident. People actually lied to their insurance companies. Who would have guessed?

“Sorry,” she told him. “I doubt I’ll be too long. I should be back tonight.”

“You’d better be. I don’t like you stepping out on me for these stiffs.”

Kenzie grinned. She finished getting dressed and ducked into the bathroom to check her hair and try to tame the wild, dark curls into something more professional. She put on a coating of her trademark red lipstick, though she knew no one but she would appreciate it, considering the circumstances. She picked up her phone and handbag as she walked back through the bedroom and got on her way.

Chapter 2

Kenzie knew generally where Persons was, but hadn’t been there before. Or she might have attended there once as a medical student, but couldn’t remember much about it. Maybe when she was writing a paper and needed to interview someone? It was several years in the past, and the sleepless nights of medical school had blurred the memories.

She gave her baby, a beautiful, cherry-red convertible, time to warm up before backing out of the garage and getting on the road. She was soon outside the town limits, getting away from the glaring streetlights and sparse traffic. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the dark of the country road, and then she could see stars sprinkled across the black canvas of the night, thousands of twinkling pinpricks, and a sliver of a bright moon.

She had that awake-alert feeling that she got when she was taking care of an emergency when she would normally have been sleeping. She remembered the early morning starts to vacations when she had been young, sometimes having to go to the airport in the wee hours to catch an international flight. Sleeping with her head resting on her mother’s shoulder while they sat in the chairs of the waiting area for boarding to begin. But not sleeping. Staring at the dark windows and watching the preparations covertly, looking as though she were asleep, but with an alertness running through her body, her brain primed to take everything in.

The care facility was not far away. Just away from the hustle and bustle of the town. Somewhere quiet for people to recover. To take a break from their stressful, pressured lives and regenerate, get healthy before returning to the homes and families waiting for them.

Kenzie pulled into the parking lot and couldn’t identify any particular parking space that she should take. It was quiet; just a few cars from the night staff were there. And a long black hearse backed into one of the staff stalls near the doors. Kenzie pulled up to the big double doors and shut off the engine.

A security guard walked out to meet her as she grabbed her death kit and walked toward the doors. He held up his hand to stop her and send her back. “I’m sorry. You can’t park there. And it turns out your services are not needed. You were called in error. Just a mistake.”

Kenzie frowned at him. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re from the ME’s office, right? I’m sorry. You aren’t actually supposed to be here.”

“I was called about a death.”

“Yes, that was wrong. You shouldn’t have been. Someone who didn’t know proper procedures…”

Kenzie shook her head, brushing aside his hand as he reached out to block her and send her back.

“I’m sorry, but once I am called to a scene, I have to attend.”

“But you weren’t supposed to be.”

“Actually, I was. The ME’s office is required to attend any deaths occurring at a psychiatric facility.”

“There’s no need.” He blocked her more aggressively.

Kenzie looked him in the eye. “Look. I’ve told you that I’m required by law to attend. There’s nothing I can do about it. There’s nothing you can do to change my mind. I can call the cops to get them to remove you so I can get to the scene. Is that what I need to do?”

He hesitated, wavering.

“Events have been set into motion,” Kenzie reiterated. “I need to follow a certain procedure. Will you let me in, or do I have to call for backup?”

He lowered his hand slowly. “Well, I don’t see why you have to be so stubborn about it…”

“It’s the procedure I have to follow. If it’s just an unattended death, someone who died in his sleep, then my time here will be very short. I’ll be in and out with no fuss or bother. But you can’t stop me from attending, or there will be consequences. You don’t want to get arrested for impeding an investigation, do you?”

“You’re not even the police,” the guard grumbled, but he stepped back and grudgingly let Kenzie pass.

Kenzie preceded him into the building, but she did not have any idea where to find the body once she got there. She looked around. There was no one waiting inside to escort her to her patient. The security guard trailed her in.

“Can you point me in the right direction?” Kenzie asked. “Or should I just wander around looking for a body?”

“Down the hall and to the right,” he grumbled. Then he apparently decided he should do more than just give her directions. “I’ll show you.”

Once they were down the first hallway, Kenzie could hear voices. Casual, routine voices, doctors or nurses talking to each other as they completed their duties. The security guard led her around another corner, and then she could see where people were gathered in the hall, pulled in by the specter of death.

There were a couple of young men in dress pants and white shirts wheeling a gurney into a patient’s room. Kenzie hadn’t seen an ambulance nearby. And ambulance attendants did not wear white shirts.

But she had seen a hearse.

“Excuse me!” Kenzie hurried forward as the two men bent over in the cramped space, preparing to lift the body onto the gurney. “Don’t touch that body. Get back.”

They stopped and looked at her, frowning. A doctor standing outside the room, gray hair and a dark mustache, prominent creases between his eyes, turned to her.

“Who are you?”

“Dr. Kenzie Kirsch. Assistant to the Medical Examiner.”

“What are you doing here?”

Kenzie motioned to the body on the floor. “Looking after him.”

“You’re not needed here. This is a doctor-attended death. No need for the medical examiner to be involved.”

“Well, I was called, and I am required to be called for all deaths in a psychiatric facility. And you,” Kenzie motioned again to the funeral home workers. “You can go. Leave me your card. I’ll call you when we finish with the body.”

The two men looked at each other, not sure what to do.

“You’re not taking this body,” Kenzie said firmly.

“Look, Dr. Kirsch,” the doctor spoke to her again. “This is all just a misunderstanding. I’m sorry. You should not have been called. Just let the funeral home take care of the body, and you go home and get your sleep.”

“I need to fulfill my obligations. There is a strict procedure to be followed. I’m sure you’ve seen it all before. It shouldn’t take me too long.”

There was no blood on the floor, no apparent injuries. The man had clearly not been shot or stabbed. Kenzie looked down at him, her mind already running through checklists. What she would need to see, what pictures she would take. What she would tell Carlos or whoever came from the office to transport the body, what she would tell death investigators if she needed someone else there to help collect evidence.

“This is ridiculous,” the doctor complained.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt you. It’s just one extra step before the deceased is sent on to the funeral home. We make sure that there are no concerns, and then the family gets the body,” Kenzie assured him. Of course, the doctor was old enough to know all of this anyway. He was obviously not inexperienced. He knew the way it all worked.

The doctor threw up his hands in frustration, defeated. “Fine. Do what you have to do. But it is over my objection. You don’t need to be here. It is just a waste of time.”

“Well, better a waste of time than having to exhume a body later on down the line!” Kenzie told him cheerfully.

The funeral home attendants backed off to let Kenzie do her examination. One of them hemmed and hawed for a minute, then handed her a business card, and he and his associate took their gurney and departed. The doctor shook his head.

“Everything would have been taken care of in five minutes. Now I’m going to still have a dead body here in two hours. Before long, we’ll have patients getting up and finding one of their number dead on the floor.”

Kenzie rolled her eyes as she performed the first checks on the body to ensure the patient was properly deceased. She would have the body out of there well before patients started getting up in the morning. Unless both of the ME office trucks broke down, and if that were the case, she knew of a hearse that could probably be pressed into service…

She rested her fingertips lightly on the man’s arm. “How long has he been here, Dr.…?”

He hesitated, then supplied his name. “Dr. Alvarez. He can’t have been there for very long. He was asleep. Must have just gotten up… maybe he wasn’t feeling well and went to get help, or something for indigestion, and just keeled over.”

Kenzie shook her head. “He’s in full rigor.”

“That can’t be right.”

“How long did you wait before calling someone?”

“It takes a while for people to get here,” he said cautiously. “Maybe… an hour?”

It had been less than an hour since Kenzie had been called, but she knew that it hadn’t been Dr. Alvarez who had called her. He had an accent and an older voice. More of an attitude, almost a bullying manner. The man who had called her on the phone had been softer spoken, younger, probably not very experienced in dealing with unexpected deaths. And that someone had called her after Dr. Alvarez had called the funeral home.

“It’s been more than an hour,” Kenzie disagreed. “Full rigor. That takes a significant amount of time.”

But something wasn’t right, because the body was still quite warm to the touch. And it shouldn’t be if he had been lying on the floor for long enough for full rigor set in. Kenzie took a couple of temperature readings, writing them down and noting the time and the stage of rigor mortis. When time of death indicators did not match the witness stories or each other, there was good reason to be careful. Measure everything twice. Note everything down with dates, times, and pictures. Interview all witnesses to get their stories before they started to change.

“He hasn’t been lying there for hours,” Alvarez objected.

Kenzie just shook her head. She knew he was wrong or lying to her. Or there was something very strange going on with her newest patient.

I hope you enjoyed this sample of

Shattered to Death

By P.D. Workman

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