Hazard in Hawaii E-Book

Heather Silvio

• Herausgeber: Panther Books
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: A Doctor Danger Mystery
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 211

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

One man is dead from an unexplained fever. He is just the first.

When locals fall ill on the Big Island of Hawai‘i, a team with a reputation for solving unusual cases is recruited to discover why.

Assistant investigator Sarah Danger can barely contain her excitement at being flown with her boss to a tropical paradise. After all, she expects this is a client overreaction to a natural event, and a routine medical explanation for the deadly fever-illness will surely come.

But hidden beneath the lush beauty of Hawai‘i is something that science can’t explain, and the key to saving everyone may well be as old as the Big Island itself. When unexpectedly thrust into a leadership role, Sarah must rely on her empath abilities and background in comparative mythology to solve the case. Can she uncover the truth in time, or will she fall victim herself?

Unlock the mystery of Hawaii’s supernatural secrets in Doctor Danger’s first urban fantasy adventure, where myths & legends meet modern thrills! One-click your copy today.

Leseprobe

Hazard in Hawaii

A Doctor Danger Mystery

Heather Silvio

Panther Books

Hazard in Hawaii

On the tropical island paradise of Hawaii, an investigator with empathic abilities races against an unknown force to stop a deadly fever illness before falling victim herself.

Don’t miss out on the first Doctor Danger supernatural mystery, Hazard in Hawaii, from the author of the Paranormal Talent Agency. 

Note that Doctor Danger’s not-quite-a-cozy supernatural mystery/paranormal thriller is rated PG-13 and is appropriate for teenagers through adults.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Author’s Note

Thank You

About the Author

Books by Heather Silvio

ChapterOne

Traveling to Hawaii to solve an unexplained overheating death had to be the most creative excuse for delaying the completion of my dissertation. This case would be a wild ride, I imagined. And then I’d finish my dissertation on the paranormal in mythology.

One day soon I’d be Sarah Danger, PhD. But, right now, I was Sarah Danger, Private Investigator Assistant. A giggle threatened to erupt at the craziness of being flown to Hawaii by a client. Freaking Hawaii.

“Would you like a complimentary Mai Tai?” The flight attendant balanced her tray of red-orange tropical cocktails and gave us a big smile. Her bright red lips were the only makeup on a youthful face surrounded by curly black hair. I ran a hand through my long wavy auburn hair, wondering how it would be if it curled like that.

“Definitely,” I enthused and carefully received the fruity-smelling concoction from her. We’d been flying for over ten hours, traveling from Tampa to Hilo, via Los Angeles and Honolulu, and a refreshing alcoholic beverage sounded heavenly. My seatmate didn’t respond, surprising me. “Jeff?”

“Sure,” he finally replied, giving the flight attendant a tired smile. His hand shook for a moment before steadying, and he took the offered cocktail. “Don’t give me that look,” he admonished me as the flight attendant continued down the aisle. “It’s just jet lag.”

I narrowed my green eyes and considered my boss. Jeffrey McCarthy, 54 years old, with disheveled graying brown hair and a bit of stubble on pale skin that made him appear unwell. I supposed it might be jet lag. Although the teal-trimmed seats were comfortable, as a larger ex-athlete, he looked a little squished.

I, on the other hand, fit fine. There had to be some benefit to being child-size. After all, I stopped growing at the age of thirteen. But, the hours of travel across multiple time zones could exhaust anyone.

“Why don’t you review our case before we land,” he said into my silence. “Then we can lay out our plan of attack.”

“Got it, boss.” I opened my laptop and clicked on the JM Investigations folder. One more click on a folder labeled Andrea Helms, and the case opened before me. Such that it was. Andrea knew Jeff from church and knew he was a private investigator. Yesterday – could it have been only yesterday? – Andrea called Jeff in a panic about her little brother, Cameron, living in Hawaii.

Cameron had told her he’d read a story about a man in his town who died from overheating. The man’s hyperthermia had no external cause and responded only minimally to medical attempts to cool him. Cameron was worried because he noticed he’d started having serious symptoms, too. He’d reported feeling warm, without exertion, and with the air conditioning running normally. That soon became sweating, clammy skin, and nausea. He thought it was a flu bug until he saw the article and something clicked. Andrea swore her brother wasn’t a hypochondriac, and the doctor in the article had been baffled by what had happened. So, when she heard the worry in his voice, she told him to go to the hospital, where he was now being treated by the same doctor who saw the man who’d died. And then she called Jeff.

That’s what we had: Andrea’s concern, her brother’s symptoms, and a single newspaper article about a mysterious hyperthermia death. “Not that I’m looking a gift trip to Hawaii in the mouth, so to speak, but is this a case for us?”

Jeff slow-blinked before responding. “Honestly? Not sure. That’s why we’re going to check it out. Determine if it’s an unusual case.” That was code for unexplained, likely supernatural, cases. And he was right. Which of course was why he’d accepted the case.

“Do you think she wants someone there to keep an eye on her brother?” Normally, regardless of a possible supernatural element, we’d make a bunch of phone calls before flying halfway around the world. Except Andrea had told Jeff that she would not risk losing Cameron, her only remaining family. She’d rather spend the money and look foolish than risk his life. Jeff, being a sucker for a sob story, took the case even though it seemed medical and there would be nothing for us to find.

“Possibly,” he conceded.

“Though it is bizarre.” I opened the electronic file of the newspaper article that had triggered the frantic phone calls. Alan Richards had gone to the Emergency Department reporting an unresponsive-to-over-the-counter-medication fever. When the nurse first took his temperature, it registered as 104. They tried cooling blankets, IV fluids, and antibiotics, assuming they’d reduce the fever, assuage his concern, and send him home. Instead, his temperature continued to rise, topping out at 110 before his insides boiled and he died. I gulped some of my tropical cocktail, trying to tamp down a phantom bit of heating, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid down my throat.

The article reported that the medical examiner’s office would perform an autopsy and take tissue and blood samples to determine the underlying cause of death. Possibly by the time we landed, they’d already know the cause, and the mystery would be solved. I wondered if we’d get to turn this into a little vacation, if so. Hey, it took me 32 years to make it to Hawaii; I wanted to enjoy it.

“What should we do first?” Jeff asked.

I smirked at his obvious attempt to get me to take lead. He often told me how great my analytical mind was – though much of it had to do with my ability. Since I was a kid, I could sense the emotions of others. I thought I was just highly empathic, and that lots of people were like that. Over the years, and in particular once I went through puberty, it became clear it was so much more.

According to my mother, and confirmed by internet research, I possessed clairempathy. It’s in the realm of clairvoyance and is another form of extrasensory perception. It wasn’t solely an empath’s understanding of another. Others’ emotional and physical experiences overwhelmed me, and I only distinguished them from my own with serious effort. The ability fully developed once I reached adulthood; it could be pretty freaky, to be honest. My mother taught me to keep an internal wall of protection built at all times to limit people’s experiences day-to-day. With powerful reactions, though, that wall developed gaps or even crashed down.

Anyway, Jeff planned to retire so he could spend more time on a not-yet-purchased boat, and wanted to gift me the business. But I wasn’t a licensed private investigator, nor was I interested in being licensed. This was a fun side job to pay for expenses while I earned my degree. It had helped pay for my Master’s in Counseling, as well, so Jeff and I had known each other for over six years.

“The obvious place to start,” I humored him, “would be with interviewing Dr. Michael Wilhelm, the doctor who saw Alan Richards and is now treating our client’s brother. Then our client’s brother, Cameron Helms, and finally, the surviving spouse, Helen Richards.” I ticked the three off on my fingers as I listed them. “Then we see where we are.”

A flight attendant’s voice sounded over the loudspeaker, asking everyone to be sure they’d stowed their carry-on articles and to prepare for landing.

“Perfect timing,” Jeff said, with a wan smile. “And perfect plan of action.”

I returned his smile before shifting my gaze past his face to look out the window. The turquoise water mesmerized; a beautiful sheet broken up with tiny white dots that became clearer as cresting waves. Soon that became a vibrant green, the land undulating with what appeared to be hills and valleys. When I thought of Hawaii, I pictured white sand beaches and smelled the scent of coconut. But we were landing on The Big Island of Hawaiʻi, home to the active volcanoes of HawaiʻiVolcanoes National Park and Moana Key, the highest mountain peak in the United States. I’d been fascinated to learn that the Big Island of Hawaiʻi was spelled the traditional Hawaiian way, while the state itself remained the federally-recognized Hawaii.

At the sight of the high mountain peaks, all linguistic ruminations fled, and I wondered how close I could get to the lava of an active volcano. An involuntary shiver rolled over me at the thought of the heat and power.

ChapterTwo

Jeff and I made our way through Hilo International Airport, carry-on bags in tow, backpacks with laptops seeming to weigh double what they did when we started. It was amazing how just sitting tired you out. The weather in early December felt much like Florida when we stepped outside, mid-seventies with humidity. We read signs as we walked, following them to a low-slung building that housed the rental car companies. Soon, we had our stuff stowed in a nondescript SUV and we headed toward the freeway.

When most people think of Hawaii, they don’t think of how big the island of Hawaiʻitruly is. Hilo is both hours away from the Kona coast (home of Kona coffee and sandy beaches) and forty minutes or so from Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park in the opposite direction. Our destination was Mountain Eden, a mid-size city more or less equidistant from the airport and the park. Our client’s brother, Cameron Helms, and the recently deceased, Alan Richards, both resided there.

Big enough to house a major medical center, but still small enough to keep a small-town feel, or at least the internet said so. We eased off HI-11 and watched for a grocery store. One benefit of renting an actual house or condo was the kitchen. No need to eat out constantly. In contrast to my preconceived notions, the amount of greenery astounded. At the slower speeds through Mountain Eden, our headlights revealed incredible foliage not visible in the dusk while we drove at 60 MPH on the intrastate. We popped in and out of the grocery store, marveling at the increased cost of the food. There was a reason that commercials had fine print at the bottom stating prices may be higher in Hawaii and Alaska. A few more turns after exiting the parking lot and we pulled into the gravel driveway of the vacation rental we snagged for this trip.

A one-story wood-sided house greeted us. I expected from the pictures on the website where we booked the home that it was a lovely olive green that blended with the surrounding forest beautifully. Reality didn’t disappoint. A moss-covered walkway led to the front door. A small, lettered sign read Peridot Palace, and I smiled at the play on words. I remembered from my brief research that peridot was the state gemstone, a delightful shade of green. And while a decent size, this house was no palace. Two sets of two keys on rings sat in an uncovered clay pot. Jeff handed me one set and then unlocked the forest green door. We stepped into a quaint wood-paneled foyer. To the left and right were closed doors to the two suites contained within the house.

“Take fifteen to unwind and unpack, then head to dinner and maybe meet some locals?” Jeff asked.

I agreed and we unlocked our respective doors. The suite had four rooms – galley kitchen, sitting area, bedroom, and bathroom. Terracotta flooring ran throughout, giving the small wood-paneled space some warmth, which was good, because the air had a bit of a chill. The temperature fell at night; I guessed this meant that the house was well-insulated enough to hold on to the coolness over the course of the day. I rolled my suitcase into the bedroom, happy to see two sets of windows. Hopefully, that meant tons of natural light awaited me in the morning.

Unpacking took all of five minutes, so I used my remaining ten to lay back on the floral bedspread, testing the bed. Plenty of pillows and a firm mattress suggested I’d sleep well here. That brought a smile to my face, before I remembered why we were here. One man had died, and another might be terminal.

Since the temperature had indeed fallen with the sun, I put my turquoise knit hat on over my long auburn hair and joined Jeff in the foyer. I didn’t miss the smirk he tried to hide. Everyone who knew me knew I was a complete wuss when it came to weather. Under 70 degrees was cold. Period.

A quick drive from the house we found a locally owned restaurant for dinner, Kīlauea Rim, a nod to the volcano park twenty minutes away. Bigger than the standalone building appeared from the parking lot, the high ceilings with dark wood beams opened the space up even more. Which was good, because it was packed. Tile flooring that looked like wood ran underneath a handful each of occupied two-top and four-top light-wood tables, with a lone six-top anchoring the corner. Glossy photographs from the park added a nice touch.

We scored a two-top table along the far wall from the door – Jeff conceding that the cool air would come in every time someone came or went. I smiled at the consideration. My allergies meant candles were a no-go for me, so I appreciated the fake candle that provided ambiance with no smoke.

The waitress appeared from the back, brown hair in a messy but contained bun, a black apron over a white shirt and black pants, with sensible shoes. Her name tag said Marie. “Aloha. What can I get for you two?” Her pleasant voice held a slight accent I couldn’t place. New England somewhere, maybe.

I ordered an entire small margarita pizza for myself and quirked an eyebrow when Jeff only got a salad. The waitress retreated with our orders and our menus.

“I’m not that hungry,” he protested.

“You never eat salad.” I took in his haggard appearance again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Would you believe I filled up on the plane?”

His joke succeeded in lightening the mood and I chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t, but if you say you’re fine.”

“I do,” he said with finality. He gave me a tired smile. “Let’s discuss our plan of attack. I called to check on Cameron; it was a good thing Andrea had him give the hospital permission to talk about his medical status. There’s been no change.”

“He’s unresponsive to cooling efforts?” Even though that’s what the newspaper story had said about the original victim, I still found it surprising.

“Yep. They even tried an ice bath. Nada. Anyway, as I stated on the plane, I agree with your suggestions for our first three interview subjects. What do you think about splitting up for the interviews?”

“How come?” I couldn’t remember the last time I conducted an interview on my own. Not that Jeff doubted my capability; he preferred to hear the words himself.

“In the interests of time, since we don’t yet know the timeline of the first victim’s illness and subsequent death.”

I nodded. “We might be up against a tight clock.”

“Exactly.”

Not wanting to bring up his peaked appearance again, I decided to agree. Sort of. “We’ll plan for that, and play it by ear. In case you’re still having trouble with your jet lag.”

Jeff gave a small sigh and a curt nod. That was likely the best I’d get from him. We finished our dinners and returned to the rental.

Light streaming through the windows woke me the next morning. I stretched in the bed, not wanting to leave the warmth of the comforter. Alas, my cellphone alarm kept blaring. Seven wasn’t really that early, and I’d slept quite well in the new place. I scrambled some quick eggs and was raring to go when I exited the house.

My good mood evaporated when I saw Jeff, however. He looked worse than the night before, if that was possible. I opened my mouth, and he cut me off.

“Let’s grab breakfast in a drive-thru on our way to the hospital.”

“You didn’t make breakfast?”

“I didn’t feel like it,” he answered, not meeting my questioning gaze.

I shook my head then followed him to the SUV.

Jeff’s wheezing while we sat in the drive-thru lane was too much. “Jeffrey. You don’t sound well.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine. I told you it’s just jet lag. Plus, the humidity.”

“We came from Florida.”

The drive-thru worker saved Jeff from having to explain how the humidity in Hawaii’s volcano area was somehow worse than the humidity in the Tampa Bay area. While he collected his food, I lowered my medieval stone wall of protection a smidge. I didn’t normally use my clairempathy outside of professional situations, but Jeff was blowing off my concerns and he really looked ill.

Immediately I struggled with a heavy weight on my chest. I gulped in some air, ignoring the quick look Jeff shot me. He asked for and received some extra napkins from the woman in the window. Fatigue rooted me to my seat and I wanted to nap. My eyes fluttered closed and with effort, I pried them open. Then, I rushed to reconstruct my internal stone wall. Jeff was seriously unwell. There was no way I was separating from him for the interviews. I’d prepare to improvise if necessary.

Jeff ate his breakfast sandwich in silence for the final five minutes of the ride to the Mountain Eden Hospital Complex. The name was a misnomer, however, since the complex consisted of only two buildings: a main four-story hospital building and a two-story specialty clinic. We parked in front of the beige main building and followed the signs to the non-emergency entrance. This was good for me; without a sightline to the people behind closed doors, I couldn’t pick up their emotional and physical issues.

Trepidation filled me as we walked to the Information desk to find out Cameron Helms’ room. He wasn’t responding to treatment. How long did we have until he died?

ChapterThree

My worry about Cameron intensified when I saw him. I didn’t need clairempathy to recognize he was ill. His greasy blond hair and beads of sweat on his flushed face told the story. He looked like he’d just finished an intense workout, not been confined to a hospital bed for the past 24 hours.

I remained closer to the door as Jeff approached the bed. We’d agreed I’d interview the doctor solo when he was available; thankfully, he wasn’t free. That meant I could monitor Jeff instead.

“Cameron Helms?”

The man nodded in response to Jeff’s question. “Jeffrey McCarthy? My sister told me you’d be in this morning.”

“Yes, and this is my associate, Sarah. Are you up to answering a few questions?”

Cameron nodded again before frowning. “Are you okay? You look like I feel.”

Despite my worry over Jeff’s health, I still had to stifle a smile at Cameron’s question.

“Just jet lag.” Jeff dragged a chair over to the bed and collapsed into it. “Walk us through the past few days.”

Cameron closed his eyes for a moment. “My best guess is that this started about three days ago.”

“So, this is the start of the fourth day?” I asked from my lookout post in the doorway.

“Yes,” Cameron confirmed. “Three days ago is when I first noticed difficulty with cooling down. I kept lowering the air conditioning over the course of the day. When my wife got home from her activities, she asked me why the house was freezing.”

“How low was the A/C at that point?” Jeff asked.

Cameron’s lips pursed in thought. “About 55.”

Jeff wrote on his notepad. “That would be cold.”

“Paula – that’s my wife – put the A/C back up to something more reasonable, and then we took my temperature. It was 100, so elevated, but other than being hot, I had no other symptoms yet.”

“What did you do?”

“I chalked it up to a low-grade fever from a minor infection, and took some over-the-counter medication.”

“When did you realize it was more?”

“The next morning, I started feeling physically ill. Mild nausea, headache, pretty tired. I took more meds and rechecked my temperature. It was up another degree. Now, Paula and I were more alarmed, but still assumed it must be some kind of infection. Then I saw the article about that guy who overheated and died.” Cameron audibly swallowed and his face paled beneath the flush.

Jeff nodded. “We’ve read the article, though we haven’t spoken with anyone about him.”

“I could tell the story rattled Paula. Then, as you probably already know, I called my sister to get her opinion.” He gave a weak smile, his bottom lip pulling in from a pronounced overbite. “She insisted I come to the hospital.”

“And when Andrea is insistent,” Jeff said, “you do what she says.” The men shared a knowing smile.

“At the ER, they did a full lab check and tried administering a cooling IV. I think they also threw in an antibiotic. Everything came back normal – except the temperature. When I mentioned the death I’d read about, they knew all about it. He’d been treated here, which I didn’t remember from the article. They admitted me since they couldn’t identify the cause of the fever. Yesterday it was up another degree. And this morning, another.” His voice dropped to a whisper on the last words and his fear pushed against my protection wall.

I performed the mental math and concluded he now had a 103-degree fever. Sustaining that could result in system damage, including brain damage. No wonder he looked awful.

Jeff noted that, then bit the tip of his pen. “Did anything unusual happen at the time you first felt hot?”

Cameron was shaking his head in the negative before Jeff even finished the question. “I’ve gone through it in my mind over and over. There’s nothing. I work from home and didn’t leave the house, so I wasn’t around anybody new. Paula spent the day hiking in the park. When she came home, we watched television while we had dinner, and then went to bed. I have absolutely no idea what caused this.”

Despite his matter-of-fact statements, I heard the fear in his voice. Now, something else poked at my protection wall. “Any new stresses? Anything related to work or family?”

“Work is great, nothing new there.” He paused. “Family is me and my wife. Everything’s normal there, too.”

My head tilted. That wasn’t right. A strong negative emotional undercurrent nudged my protection wall. “Where is Paula?”

Cameron’s lips thinned for a moment, before he offered a small smile. “I insisted she go home and get some rest.”

I wondered about the veracity of the statement, but moved on. “You said you first noticed the elevated temperature the day Paula hiked at the park. Volcanoes National Park?”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you go with her?”

Another pause. “She wanted to hike alone, for some self-care time. Plus, I had a project to finish for work.”

Something seemed off. I removed a few stone blocks from my protection wall. Sadness competing with anger came off Cameron in waves and welled up in me. I tamped down the intense desire to yell and cry, to rail against… something. But he maintained his poker face. I decided not to press the issue and replaced my stone blocks.