A Caduceus is for Killing by Diana Kirk Read Free Book Online Page A

would you know about an Israeli border guard? Honestly, Suzanne."
    "Oh, you know. In the movies, they're always dark and handsome with bottomless-pit eyes. But, of course, they're al-ways short, not tall like this one, and they're always loners. Then, the right woman comes along and changes all that, till she gets shot by the terrorists. She dies and he swears to her he'll never love another. The End."
    "Suzanne, sometimes I wonder about you. Do you take hormone shots? He certainly didn't impress me that way."
    "Of course not, you probably didn't look at him at all."
    "I did, but I wasn't looking to get laid."
    "Sorry, Andy. I forgot. Was it horrible?"
    "Unimaginable. Even with all my training and everything that's happened in my life, I never thought that I'd witness some-thing as awful as--" The reality of it all overwhelmed her. Andrea buried her head in her hands.
    "Let's not talk." Suzanne led Andrea toward the bathroom. "You need a hot shower. And some sleep. You can tell me all about it, later."
    Andrea was amazed at how sensitive Suzanne could be when she wanted to. She and Suzanne had grown up together. Andrea was six years older and they were the closest thing to sisters anyone could be. But, sometimes, Suzanne was too self-centered.
     When Andrea had started her residency in Omaha, Suzanne decided to leave South Dakota and go to school at Dorlynd. Unlike Andrea, she hated Omaha. What could she do? She wasn't a doctor, yet her typing skills were good and she was a well-paid medical secretary.
    How Suzanne hated being called a secretary; said they were treated like dirt: make the coffee, answer the telephone, lie for the boss, buy his spouse's birthday and anniversary presents, and screen every person who tried to make contact. With only six hours left on her bachelor's degree in Communications, Andrea was certain Suzanne would leave Dorlynd, Omaha, and the Mid-west forever.
    Andrea understood. As a nurse, she'd been treated the same way--as though she were nonexistent. The male-dominated pecking order never changed. A traditionally female position was another synonym for slavery. She had compassion for her friend, but sometimes Suzanne chose unorthodox methods to accomplish her goals. It was nothing for her to sleep with professors for higher marks, although it seemed unlikely this semester. She was taking psychology from the university chaplain and even Suzanne didn't dare seduce a priest. She wasn't, unfortunately, above using her looks to get what she wanted. Still. . .a priest?
    Andrea repeatedly warned against the danger of using sex to accomplish a goal, especially with AIDS at epidemic proportions, but Suzanne laughed her off. This was the Midwest; AIDS didn't exist here. Her cavalier attitude infuriated Andrea. Yet, there were times, like tonight, when Suzanne could be surprisingly intuitive and sensitive.
    A long, hot shower was exactly what Andrea needed to re-lax. She peeled off her underwear and eased herself under the hot stream. Soon, she would be between the soft and inviting covers of her bed, just like when the day had started.
    Had it only been one day? Less than twenty-four hours? It seemed like years since she'd awakened from that strange dream. Mondays were always terrible. The worst day of the week. But today was--more than ridiculous--the Monday from Hell. Andrea prayed for a dreamless night. Maybe, finally, God would bless her. Her eyelids closed and she let her mind float through the hole at the bottom of her shower, toward blackness, to a place from which soap bubbles never return.

Chapter V
     . . . TO REGARD HIS OFFSPRING AS ON THE SAME FOOTING AS MY OWN BROTHERS. . .

         The eight-o'clock autopsy was too damned early. Krastowitcz entered the morgue, pulled out a stool, and sat down. His head throbbed from one-too-many Millers at The Tap last night. He'd been minding his