Death By Intention

By Byron Calhoun

Dr James Gerrard Phelan, a practicing obstetrician/gynecologist, steps into the reluctant role of amateur detective in his first case concerning the mysterious deaths of patients at New Bedford Hospital in rural New Bedford, New Hampshire. It falls to Dr Phelan to assist the authorities with finding who is taking innocent lives at his hospital. Follow Dr Phelan through the convoluted trail that leads to a climactic conclusion involving his own dear family!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Byron Calhoun
• Release date: Feb 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311461704

Byron Calhoun

Dr Byron C. Calhoun, MD, has authored a previous non-fiction book on male infertility “When a Husband is Infertile: Options for the Christian Couple” through Baker books. He has also authored over 70 scientific medical research articles in the obstetric and gynecologic literature, presented over 100 scientific papers, participated in over 40 research projects, and has published numerous articles on medical and ethical aspects of obstetrics and gynecology. Dr Calhoun serves as Professor and Vice-Chair in the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at the West Virginia University-Charleston. He began writing children’s stories for his own children; reading to them and incorporating their comments into the story lines. Dr Calhoun continues to actively practice medicine in high risk obstetrics, perform diagnostic obstetrical ultrasound, and participate in prenatal diagnosis counseling. Dr Calhoun and his wife, Kathryn, have 5 children, and, 2 lovely granddaughters.

Book preview

Death by Intention

by

Byron Calhoun

Copyright 2014 by

Byron Calhoun

Smashwords Edition

Dedicated to my loving wife Kathryn, my special children-Paul, Daniel, Joshua, Faith, Mercy, and, my gracious Lord Jesus Christ to whom I owe all. Soli Deo Gloria!

". . .whereunto ye do well that ye take head, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the day dawn, and the day star arise in your hearts." II Peter 1:19

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, business, organizations, and locales are intended to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

James Gerrard Phelan leaned over and shut off the squawking alarm sitting on his night stand by his head. He squinted at the time to make sure he awakened at 5 o’clock AM. His wife Abbey sighed deeply and shifted slightly as she moved away from him to the other side of the bed. She lay there with her shiny, blonde hair surrounding her head like a cascading flow of silvery water. The soft, curved outline of her cheek glowed with the life in the early light as she breathed deeply in sleep. He marveled at his blessing at meeting her and making her his wife. She could have married any man she wanted in the church but she chose him. They met in James’s third year of medical school at a fraternity party he belonged to during his medical school days. Abbey attended only because a good girl friend of hers wanted Abbey to see the frat house and meet one of James’s Christian classmates. James remembered seeing Abbey enter the frat house door. She was dressed in a simple off the shoulder gown of dark blue with her blonde hair swept upon her head. Her blues eyes sparkled with life. James saw her as a willowy, five foot-seven inch goddess, and knew he was smitten the moment he saw her. Abbey, on the other hand, had not been impressed when James stumbled over to her half-drunk to introduce himself. He’d blown that first impression, especially when he spilled his beer all over her new gown. From that night, James harassed, begged, cajoled, and pleaded with Abbey for a date. She refused him categorically but consented to allow him to attend her church with her. James recalled he’d been less than enthusiastic but wanted to impress Abbey so much that he went anyway. The church service turned out to be unlike anything he ever had been involved in at home. The people sang, prayed, and acted like they really believed in religious stuff.

Abbey came alive in the service and fastened a brilliant smile on James as the pastor of the Reformed First Presbyterian Church gave the invitation to come forth and be saved. James looked into Abbey’s deep blue eyes and found himself weeping uncontrollably. He didn’t even know wy at first. . .then, all the emptiness, hollowness, and despondency overwhelmed him. James felt Abbey’s gentle hand on his arm. Abbey guided James down the aisle as he stumbled forward to the front of the church. All the bravado, excuses, and junk poured out of his soul as he met the King of Kings. At first, Abbey seemed skeptical. Even though he’d gone down front to the altar, she felt maybe James went forward to impress her. But, James proved true. He struggled out of the alcohol that he did not even realize he had become addicted to in college and ended his wild, partying lifestyle. Two years later, they were married. God was certainly good.

He rubbed the sleepy dirt from his eyes, shook his head slightly, stretched out his arms, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. James stumbled to the closet, removed his pajamas, and placed them quietly into the drawer. He next put on his running shorts, shirt, pulled on his shoes and socks, and flung his sweats over his shoulder. James loved this time of the day as he awakened taking his time slowly, stretching the sleep tightened muscles. He began with the calves, moved to the quadriceps, hamstrings, and finished with the arms, shoulders, and back. James walked to the back door and turned off the security system. The security system had been a real boost to Abbey’ sense of safety for those long nights he had to stay in the hospital on call. She felt much better with the alarm installed even though they lived in the safe countryside.

Pulling on the sweats, he opened the kitchen door, and met the twilight, morning air. It had that bite to it this early March morning. James stretched out his legs and arms a bit more. No sense in pulling a muscle due to an inadequate warm up. Zeke, his Labrador, having been all night out in the kennel, began whining to go run with him. Zeke was short for Zechariah, which was appropriate for a chocolate male lab. Zeke was two years old, in his prime of life, and loved nothing better than going out with James for a morning run.

James approached the kennel and the lab jumped on the gate with his tongue hanging out. Zeke’s eyes danced with delight and his tail became a blur with wagging. The dog possessed the typical lab personality of over affection and consistent desire to be with his people. Zeke stood just shy of 23 inches at the shoulder and weighed in at over 100 pounds. His coat shone in the early light and his broad chest with well developed muscles rippled as he walked. The glow to his coat resulted (according to James) from the secret mixture of egg, mayonnaise, and milk Zeke ate twice a week. Zeke also had the rather droll streak in him as well. The dog loved to tease James at times and knew if he leaned against the gate that James could not get the door open. The door’s lock would catch with the dog’s weight. Zeke never tired of the game, and, each morning they ran he would toy with James.

You old jar-head. How’s my boy this morning? You ready to get your legs run off you old rascal?

Zeke answered with a whine and a bark.

Shhh, you trying to wake up the whole house? scolded James.

Zeke just laughed with his mouth and tried to lick James hand as he undid the lock with the key. The gate opened inward and Zeke knew if he stood on his hind legs pushing against the gate, it couldn’t be opened. The brown dog lead into the door and looked James with a sly-doggy face.

Come on Zeke. Let me open the gate. We don’t have all day to do this.

Zeke merely stood up against the gate and stared innocently at James.

You keep this up you big lummox and I am just going to leave you here and to sit. I’ll go run without you, said James pretending to turn away.

Zeke knew he’d lost. He whined and jumped down from the gate. James opened the gate and looked at him. You’re just one loony dog. You know that you big jar-head?

The affectionate lab stood up, planted his huge paws onto James’s chest, and licked his face. The substantial lab tongue swiped across his face covering him with sloppy, doggy drool. James laughed and removed the paws from his chest.

Okay, okay. I love you too…we need to get going. I’ve the OR today so I need to get done and get in early to see patients. See if you can keep up.

They started down the tree lined road that led from the house to the main road. The trees looked just about ready to bud out. The tips of the branches of the oaks and maples sat fat with swollen potential this April morning. James figured that if he ran about an easy, eight minute mile pace he would make the trip to the main road and back in about 45 minutes. The two to three mile route to the main road ran up and down several hills in the deserted country. Their house sat back off the main road on an old farm site with just over 100 acres of land. He ran along the fence to their property and saw Sara’s pony Abe munching on grass. Abe was short for Abraham, the patriarch, since the pony made it to the promised land of the farm. He lifted his head in mile interest, saw James with Zeke, and immediately went back to grazing the sweet, new, tender spring grass. They had lived on the farm almost three years. James completed his OB/GYN residency five years earlier and they had moved to New Hampshire at the same time Sara was not quite 2 years old. He entered practice in a middle sized, quaint town called New Bedford. Because of James reputation and hard work, they had been able to purchase the old farm place.

Zeke ran on ahead sniffing along the fences, scaring up rabbits, and generally enjoying himself. He loved to hunt and James trained him to retrieve not only ducks, but upland game birds as well. Zeke in his first full hunting season the year before had helped James limit out on his hunts several times. The dog never, however, went too far afield but kept a watchful yet on James to make sure he was still following.

As James ran he noted that the first signs of spring were upon them. The wild jonquils and crocuses in the meadow were blooming and the pasture beginning to green up. The air had a bite but still