Free The Drowning Tide (Blair Dubh Trilogy #2) by Heather Atkinson Page B

lie there as the poison threaded its way through his veins. His allergy was so severe that in a matter of minutes his body would react violently. At least he was in a hospital, but would they realise what was wrong? After all, they thought he didn’t have an allergy.
    He felt it descending upon him, the sense of impending doom draping over him like a black veil, announcing the arrival of the poison in his organs, sending his heart rate skyrocketing. He managed to roll his head to one side and release a low groan when in his head he was screaming for help. He wished his lips would work properly.
    The nurse threw Jacobs a disgusted look before bending over her patient, placing her warm hand on top of his head. It failed to have its usual soothing effect as the fear gripped him. She frowned, not liking the way his eyes bulged through the bandages.
    “Did we scare you with the arguing? I’m sorry. Don’t worry, we’ve stopped now.”
    Jacobs snorted with disgust before returning to his newspaper.
    Will groaned again as his throat tightened, a wheeze rattling in his chest and the panic squeezed him harder. As he struggled to breathe he started to kick and thrash.
    The nurse frowned. “Something’s wrong.”
    “Good,” muttered Jacobs, not looking up from his newspaper. “Want me to sign a do not resuscitate order?”
    The nurse took one of Will’s hands in her own, running her fingertips over the red rash forming on the skin then took his pulse. As suddenly as it started the thrashing ceased and he lapsed into unconsciousness. She recalled the fear in his pretty eyes when she told him she was going to inject Penicillin into his drip and she hit the crash button.
    “I need adrenaline now,” she yelled.

CHAPTER 8
     
    DCI Gray sat at his desk, brooding over the death of Anita Kelly. The rage that had been imprinted on her body niggled him. Her boyfriend hadn’t done it and they couldn’t come up with anyone else who harboured such violent emotions against her.
    Gray had personally escorted her parents down to the mortuary to view the body and her mother had collapsed. They’d tried so hard to entice their daughter back home, never given up on her. Both Anita and her dad had strong personalities and they’d constantly clashed, leading to blazing rows. Anita herself had once told Gray that they’d never been abusive or unkind, she’d just wanted freedom to grow and she felt they were stifling her by setting rules no different to any other household. Gray thought they were just trying to be parents and had done his best to persuade her to go home but she’d refused. Now he wished he’d tried harder. He felt partly responsible for what had happened to her. He’d seen victims of horrible physical and mental abuse run away from home to escape a life so hopeless they’d rather take their chances on the streets but Anita had been brought up in middle class comfort, cocooned in love, and he’d thought her reasons for running away petty and childish. It was too late to get through to her now.
    Gray thought of the recent prison riot. Was it coincidence that Anita was murdered so soon after? Probably. All the prisoners had been accounted for once the riot was quashed and Docherty himself was in hospital. It had given him great pleasure to learn that he’d been given a good fucking hiding. But it was still a coincidence and he didn’t like coincidences, he didn’t believe in them. What if he’d managed to incite someone to attack Anita from hospital? The curious prickle on the back of his neck that he’d experienced at the crime scene bothered him again so he decided to check up on Sally and Freya too.
    He ran a check on Sally and his jaw hit the desk. She’d been murdered only the night before, barely twenty four hours after the prison riot. Snatching up the phone he asked to be put through to the detective in charge of the case.
    “Oh yeah, that was a nasty one,” said the voice down the line. “She was beaten