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CHAPTER 23
KIMBERLY
AFTER SPEAKING WITH MAYOR HOWARD about his wife’s alleged illegal kidney transplant, Kimberly paid a visit to the master bathroom, where—sure enough—she found a row of prescription bottles bearing Martha Counsel’s name. A quick internet search revealed most of the pills to be anti-rejection meds, to be taken for the “life of the working transplant organ.”
Kimberly returned to the room where the woman had hanged herself. D.D. was still there, supervising the ME’s removal of the body. As with all hangings, the ME had left the noose in place. Analysis of the knot would be an important part of the final report, helping to determine if the woman’s death was a suicide or a murder.
Right now, Kimberly had a suspicious death, which technically fell under the sheriff’s jurisdiction, not that of the federal taskforce. She doubted, however, that Sheriff Smithers would balk at outside assistance with the case, especially as Martha Counsel’s death had to be related to the bodies they’d recovered. It was impossible to think otherwise.
D.D. introduced the medical examiner, Dr. Dale Cabot, then his scrawny assistant, Arnold Cabot. Apparently, the coroner’s office was a family business.
“What can you tell me?” Kimberly asked, flashing her credentials.
“I can tell you a cup of coffee every morning is perfectly good for you,” Dr. Cabot replied drolly, working with his son to slowly lower Martha Counsel onto the waiting gurney. “And I can’t wait to have one this morning myself.”
She deserved that, asking for an opinion before the body was even on the stretcher. Even so, Kimberly held up a hand. “Hang on a moment.”
She stopped beside the gurney. Martha’s embroidered silk bathrobe remained open in front, but the kid, Cabot junior, had respectfully smoothed down her long white nightgown. No good way to do this.
“We’re told this woman received a kidney transplant,” Kimberly said. “Given the circumstances, I need to check.”
Dr. Cabot stepped back, gesturing for her to do what she had to do. His son, on the other hand, stared at her wide-eyed.
Kimberly never liked this part. It felt intrusive, donning a pair of gloves then slowly raising up the hem of a dead woman’s nightgown to better inspect the body. Mentally, she made her apologies as she drew Martha’s nightgown above her thighs, exposing plain white underwear with discreet lace trim, then finally Martha’s bare torso. There on the left-hand side: a significant surgical scar, still puckered and dark pink after all these years.
“Is that scar consistent with a kidney transplant?” Kimberly asked.
“Appears so. I can tell you more once I open her up.”
Kimberly nodded, held out her cell phone with the photo she had shot of the prescription bottles. “And these drugs?”
The ME took her phone, played with the photo till he could make out all the labels. “These are all standard anti-rejection meds, consistent with someone who received an organ transplant.”
He handed back the phone.
“Did you know a Dr. Gregory Hatch?” D.D. asked, coming to stand beside them.
“Dr. Hatch? He passed away years ago.”
“Would he have been qualified to perform a kidney transplant?”
“As a general surgeon, yes, but UNOS—the United Network for Organ Sharing—could tell you more. They should have a record of everyone.”
“Assuming the organ came through UNOS,” D.D. said levelly.
Dr. Cabot stared at them. Then he looked back at the body, the red bathrobe sash knotted around Martha’s neck. “I don’t know why someone would go to such lengths to live once,” he said slowly, “only to give up now.”
“Guilt?” Kimberly offered.
“The Dr. Hatch I knew... I wouldn’t rush to conclusions. Especially with the man not even alive to defend himself.”
“Who might still have access to his medical records?” Kimberly asked.
“Dr. Hatch was a private practice physician. Upon his death, patients would have been notified and given the opportunity to transfer their records to the new doctor of their choice.”
Kimberly exchanged a glance with D.D. Would a doctor even keep records of an illegal surgery? And yet, Martha had still required ongoing care, including the meds.
“Who would be in charge of transferring the files?” D.D. spoke up.
