“Okay. Looking at this from the perspective of the medical examiner, I see an elderly man...”
“Elderly. Humph. I’m healthy as a horse,” Lionel mumbled.
“…who had been diagnosed with and was currently being medicated for hypertension…”
“Which was controlled perfectly. 110 over 80 last check-up, thank you very much. I’ll have you know I walked five miles every day. See if he can beat that.”
“…Given the combination of those factors, the advanced age, the chronic hypertension, I’d guess the medical examiner assumed it was natural causes and saw no need for an autopsy. It was likely a cardiac event, but without an autopsy to determine the exact cause, inconclusive was the logical choice for the donor program paperwork.”
“Had I realized the shoddy work ethic in the medical examiner community I would have demanded an autopsy in my last will and testament. Apparently it was not enough that I was leaving my body to science so my brain could be studied for posterity.” Lionel scowled. “A lot of good that did if my brain is to be studied by the likes of this quack.”
Lionel’s little rant explained one thing—why his body was delivered to Liam’s lab. Liam’s current field of study was brains. He’d recently put in a request specifically for a brain to study.
But the rest of the rant, the insults, were too much. Liam was damn good at his job. Even if he weren’t, she wasn’t about to let this man insult her brilliant boyfriend.
“Besides being published in medical journals, Liam has won awards and grants for his studies,” Natalie informed Lionel, hand on her hip as she prepared for an argument.
“Are you giving the cadaver my credentials?” Liam asked.
“Yes. He’s questioning your abilities. No one puts down my man and his lab skills.”
“Aw, thank you, baby. But to be fair, his brain is going to be less helpful to me for my study than I’d hoped.”
“What does that mean?” Lionel sputtered. “Does he know I’m an official member of Mensa? Did they not list my IQ in that folder of his?”
“He’d like you to know he’s very smart,” Natalie passed along.
“That’s an understatement,” Lionel grumbled.
“Intelligence isn’t the concern. I was hoping for some nice long-term cerebral damage. But from the looks of him, he didn’t have a career in the military working in ordinance disposal or something equally useful to me.” Liam sighed. “Perhaps I’ll find something once I cut him open and get in there.”
That statement seemed to render the professor speechless, which wasn’t a bad thing.
The problem was, Lionel’s shock didn’t last very long as he emitted yet another insulted humph.
“My apparent lack of useful brain damage aside, this supposed doctor and that unnamed inept medical examiner are both operating as if I was on death’s door. Like my passing should be of no surprise to anyone. That is not the case at all. You know that, Miss Chase. You saw me. Did I look about to keel over and expire in Salem?”
“No. You were at the height of your game as far as I can see,” Natalie agreed. If his game was being rude and insulting.
“Thank you,” he said with a definitive nod. “Now, there must be something else in those records. Some clue to explain my untimely demise.”
Drawing in a breath, Natalie glanced up at Liam. “Is there nothing else mentioned in the file?”
“Nope.” Liam shook his head.
That spurred another huff from the ghost unhappily glaring at him. “So this was a complete dead end. No pun intended. What are you going to do now?” he demanded of Natalie.
What was she going to do? She’d like to remind him she didn’t have to do anything.
Still, she knew from experience this spirit could and would make her life miserable until she helped him. Or at least tried to.
Turning to face Lionel, she said, “I guess we’ll just have to find out more on our own.”
“Yes. Good. How? What is your plan?” Lionel asked.
What was this? The man who had all the answers had none now and wanted advice from her? If she had more energy she’d rub that in a bit. As it was, this spirit had sapped her nearly dry.
“Well…” she began, trying to come up with a plan on the fly. “I guess, as you said, you are kind of famous. I mean, in certain circles, I suppose. There should be some press about your death.”
