“Is it possible that at some point my father could have been given some kind of drug that could have triggered the attack?”
The doctor frowned. “As I said, the colonel was found unresponsive in his hospital bed. The physician on duty reported cause of death as congestive heart failure. The autopsy supports that diagnosis. There was nothing on his tox screen that would indicate his death was anything other than natural causes.”
“But the tox screens you ran were limited, were they not?” Bran pressed. “That would be typical.”
The doctor’s irritation grew. “Unfortunately, there is no way we can test for every drug on the face of the earth.”
Bran wisely let the subject drop. They needed this man’s cooperation. No use making him angry unless there was a reason.
“What about security cameras?” Jessie asked.
“There are cameras in the hall outside the cells. Unfortunately, the day he died, the camera inside the cell was temporarily out of service.”
Jessie flashed a look at Bran.See? I told you this was all too convenient.
“Do you have a list of the visitors who came to see Colonel Kegan while he was incarcerated?” Bran asked.
“I’m sure Major Anson, his military counsel, was provided with a list of all visitors. The major would also have had access to any security camera video.” The doctor rose from his chair. “If there isn’t anything further...”
Bran rose and so did Jessie. “There is one more thing,” she said. “I’d like to request my father’s body be exhumed. What procedures do I need to follow to make that happen?”
The doctor’s sandy brown eyebrows drew together. Clearly he wasn’t happy with the direction the conversation was taking, an implication he might have missed something when he’d done his job.
“You would need grounds for such an action before disinterment could be approved,” the doctor said. “I’m afraid at this time, there’s nothing I can do to help you in that regard.”
Jessie straightened. “If we need grounds, we’ll find them. Thank you for your time, Dr. Dillon.”
The doctor remained standing as they walked out the door.
“I was hoping we’d get something a little more concrete,” Bran said darkly as they made their way to the parking lot.
“Maybe we did. The question you asked about the nausea my father experienced? The way the report read, I didn’t really give it that much thought. But what if someone put something in his food that would make him sick enough to get him transported to the hospital? If they planned to kill him, it would be a lot easier once he was out of his cell.”
Bran walked her to the passenger side of the Expedition and pulled open the door. “The thought occurred to me. If the heart attack was actually induced, it would almost have to be done away from his cell.”
“That’s right. Even it they disabled the video camera, whoever gave him the drug would probably have to sign the visitor registry.”
Bran nodded, playing the theory out. “So they feed him something that makes him sick and give him the drug at the hospital or on the way there.”
“Exactly. Which means until we find out something different, it’s still possible he was murdered.”
Following Jessie’s directions, Bran turned onto Titus Boulevard, rounded the traffic circle onto Sheridan, and eventually pulled up in front of 1633 Mekong Street. Building 6222, the Judge Advocate’s Office, was a no-nonsense two-story white stucco building a little less than two miles from the ME’s office.
The military counsel Jessie’s father had chosen was a major named Thomas Anson. According to what Jessie had told Bran, she had visited the attorney several times and spoken at length with him on the phone. Fifteen minutes early for their appointment, they were shown into his office to wait.
Both of them took seats in front of his desk, and a few minutes later Anson walked in and closed the door. They both rose to greet him.
“It’s good to see you, Jessie.” Anson smiled and reached out to take hold of her hand, clasping it in both of his and holding it a little longer than necessary. His greeting held the kind of warmth Bran understood. Clearly, the major, in his thirties, brown-haired and good-looking, would like to get to know Colonel Kegan’s daughter a whole lot better.
Not going to happen, Bran thought, feeling an unexpected surge of possessiveness. For the moment, Jessie was under his protection. The look in the major’s dark eyes did not sit well.
Jessie made the introductions. “Thomas, this is Brandon Garrett. He was a close friend of my brother’s. They served together in Afghanistan.”
The major looked him over, taking in his height and build. “I understand Daniel Kegan was Special Forces. Shall I assume you were, as well?”
“That’s right.”
“It’s good to meet you.” But it was clear he saw Bran as a rival and he wasn’t pleased. The men shook hands, then the major took a seat behind his desk. “What can I do for you?”
