Pat was a grandmother of a nine-year-old boy, Jimmy, who was the son of her delinquent and drug-using son, Tom. Pat was also going through a divorce; her son was not married. Her grandson’s mother’s parents were feeding the nine-year-old all sorts of evil ideas. Some of them included putting poisoning Pat’s food.
Pat tried to give Jimmy a normal childhood, but he was not without his emotional problems that put a damper on things from time to time.
After Jimmy’s father died, he grew up to be a successful man, got married and had children. When Jimmy took his family on vacation, they met a tragic accident, leaving him in a coma, his children being placed in foster homes, and his wife dead. Once Jimmy came out of the coma, he was left facing some demons of his own.
Megan, the doctor, who had the same first name as his dead wife, fell for Jimmy, and she persuaded him to get married. Jimmy decided to investigate his mother’s death and while locating relatives, he ran into a cousin who tried to blackmail him…..Jimmy once again, faces death….
This is the 4th book in a series.
“You had a foreign toxin in your system.” Dr. Humphry said. He was an older gentleman with hound dog eyes and jowls. He kind of looked like someone’s hunting dog, who had put on a pair of glasses and wore a stethoscope around his neck.
“What does that mean?” Pat asked.
“You had chemicals that we typically see in drain openers like drain cleaner. You ingested it somehow. There were traces in the GI test. We flushed your system and took care of it. Since you obviously are old enough to read the label, I’m not sure how it got into your system. Our typical cases are usually infants or children who can’t read, or people trying to commit suicide.
“Suicide!” Pat gasped.
“We were wondering. Sometimes things like this come from bad packaging, but you had too high of a concentration. It must have come from food you ate, or beverages you drank. You’re just lucky you had the foresight to try and get to the ER where we could help you out.” Dr. Humphry droned on at her, looking over his glasses. He had a kind baritone voice, but acted a bit weary the third time he had to repeat it to Pat.
“No doubt about it. I used to work at Poison Control and dealt with this thing all the time in trying to figure out how to tell people to keep their drain cleaner locked up. You have the classic symptoms. Drain cleaner earned you a trip to the hospital. Most people just like to visit their relatives here.” He smiled at his own weak joke and clipped the chart shut to leave.
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Carla Bucholz
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