D. J. Donaldson Brings Us Another Broussard/Franklyn Mystery! An Unsolvable One - Cool!

To the brilliant sound of Mozart's Violin Concerto #4 issuing from the autopsy room's sound system, Broussard circled the steel table holding the now naked body of the Bayou Sauvage shooter, a lean, moderately muscled male Caucasian between 30 and 40 years old lying face up, his arms aligned along his torso. The old pathologist checked the form on the clipboard in his hand.

"You noted the degree of rigor in the limbs as a three when you prepared him," Broussard said to his assistant, Guy Minoux.

Guy nodded, "Right."

"Did you have to break it, to get him undressed?" He asked the question because once broken, when rigor resumes, it isn't as extensive in the disturbed muscles as in those left alone.

"No, I was careful not to, and the position of his arms made it pretty easy to avoid."

Broussard trusted Guy completely, so that ordinarily, the old pathologist wouldn't have checked the degree of rigor for himself. But it had only been three hours since the gunman had killed himself, and for much of the time the body had been submerged in water that was surely cooler than the ambient spring air. Though the degree of rigor was not a reliable time of death indicator, a rating of three seemed high for the circumstances. He explained this to Guy, who nodded and said, "Would you mind checkin' it too. I don't want anybody lookin' at me and rollin' their eyes if this becomes a problem later."

Guy swished his hand at Broussard in a gesture of dismissal, "Nahh, we been through too much of this stuff together for me to think that."

"I'm sure you're right about this, but...just to be safe..." Broussard headed for the cadavr's right arm. When he was in the proper position, he gently tested the limb's resistance to flexion of the elbow. He tried to raise the arm at the shoulder, then tested the right leg. Nodding he said, "I agree...level three."

He shifted his attention to the head, where he carefully tried to move it from side to side before pulling down on the lower jaw. In keeping with the established principle that rigor begins in the short muscles of the jaw and neck before the long extremity muscles, Broussard judged right in the former to be a level four. So there was agreement between these different areas.

Broussard moved to the other side of the head, reached up, and adjusted the light over the table. He then bent down and studied the self-inflicted gunshot wound on the cadaver's temple. What he saw was unexpected. The blast of gasses from the gun had split the man's skin in a star shape and there was no soot around the wound. Of course, immersion in the swamp would likely have washed any gunshot residue from the skin, but that star shape...

~~~

Assassination at Bayou Sauvage:

An Andy Broussard/Kit Franklyn Mystery

By D. J. Donaldson

Forensics science intrigues me--it plays such a major part in solving some mysteries. And in this one, especially... Who would have guessed, for instance, that what had been seen by many eye witnesses, wasn't what actually happened! That's when the work of our main character, Andy Broussard, amazes his fans!

This time it was personal, though... Andy had been at a birthday party picnic for his uncle, Joe Broussard, when he was killed. In fact, Andy had been sitting right beside him at a picnic table when he was shot! And so as the investigation began, another ME was handling his autopsy, while Andy was working the man who had killed him. That is, he was conducting the autopsy of a man who, from a boat, shot himself and fell from his boat. Only during autopsy, however, did Andy begin to question what he and others had really seen that day...

At the same time, Kit Franklyn, a death investigator working for Andy normally, is called in to serve as an acting police detective to try to find a missing local woman...

Gator Willie's was so busy Kit could barely get in the door. The clientele looked mostly like college kids trying to be "relevant." That meant clean cut guys wearing one earring and hair standing up like a spiky rooster comb; girls with a small nasal diamond or streaks of some odd color in their hair. She saw no guys with facial tattoos or girls with partially shaved heads or lip rings. That didn't mean everyone there was harmless. Some of the most depraved men that ever lived were normal looking or even handsome. There were also plenty of attractive but cold-blooded females now locked up for life. She had the distinct feeling that someone in Gator Willie's knew where Betty Bergeron was.

At the far end of the big room, about two dozen couples were dancing to a Zydeco song called "Dog Hill" by Boozoo Chavis, her knowledge of the piece coming from years of being around her fiancee, Teddy LaBiche.

At the bar, she slid onto the only empty stool...One of the girls came her way. "What can I get you sweetie?"

Noting that the round white badge on the girl's shirt said her name was Claudia, Kit flashed her new ID. "NOPD," she said. I'm trying to find Betty Bergeron. Were you working Thursday night?

The girl's flashing black eyes lost their luster. "Yeah, I was here. Did something happen to her? She's missed a couple shifts..."

The lot had been so crowded when eh'd arrived that Kit had to part partially on the grass at the far end of the asphalt. When she reached the spot her car looked lower than usual. A quick inspection of the tires with the flashlight app on her cell phone showed that all four were flat...

~~~

In addition to the exciting action and danger, especially for Kit, during this investigation, the most intriguing part of the story is that little by little, it is discovered that  all of what is happening involves Andy Broussard's family!

And that leads to much introspection on Andy's part as he realized that he knows very little about the family members, even those that live close. As he found himself, having to check and recheck the list of those invited to the birthday party versus who was actually there, Andy realized that he even knew little about his uncle who had been killed...

While Andy shares his inner turmoil and confusion, readers get to meet and learn more about Kit's fiancee, especially when Kit is hurt and needs full-time protection... which happens to also help as they finally come to a decision about where they will live, once married...

I think I can truthfully claim that I've seen every television show that included a forensics scientist in their story...Of those, although he has not yet achieved television fame...yet, I have enjoyed Andy Broussard more than any other, for his personality, his expertise and for being a character that clearly has a medical background (from his author) used for creating realistic mysteries (or thrillers)_ What makes me choose him is because the stories match the main character better than most others I've read or seen... Although our Bones is close, it really is an entirely different type of story, don't you think?

Indeed in this book, readers see him deal with personal feelings as he loses one family member after another while dealing with the many twists and turns that arrive constantly. At the same time, he works with the others studying, analyzing, and helping to lead toward a climatic conclusion that involved his sister who had died years ago!

One other character I enjoy adds a bit of paranormal to the story that, in my opinion, greatly enhances the intrigue as Grandma O. who owns a local restaurant contacts Andy to alert him of something to soon occur! A little psychic power thrown against revelatory autopsy findings, matched with dangerous situations during the investigation itself, as more people die, all come together to make this, in my opinion, the best of the best of the Broussard/Franklin books...so far... And, D. J. Donaldson, could you not wait so long to bring this great series back to us next time! I love and highly recommend this and the earlier books if you love forensics mysteries as much as I do!


GABixlerReviews

D.J. (Don) Donaldson is a retired medical school professor. Born and raised in Ohio, he obtained a Ph.D. in human anatomy at Tulane, then spent his entire academic career at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center in Memphis. In addition to being the author of several dozen scientific articles on wound healing, he has written seven forensic mysteries and five medical thrillers. Don Donaldson, who also writes as D. J. Donaldson, in his professional career, has taught microscopic anatomy to over 5,000 medical and dental students and published dozens of research papers on wound healing. He lives in Memphis, Tennessee with his wife and two West Highland terriers. Visit Don at his website (dondonaldson.com) and his Facebook page (Facebook.com/medicalthriller).

Louisiana Fever by Dr. D. J. Donaldson Scary Potential Reality Thriller! Would Love to See TV Show With Top Characters!

While Broussard waited for his eggs, across the river, in his dresser, Walter Baldwin’s killer emerged from Broussard’s torn pants and began to explore. It moved across the right lapel of his pale blue pajamas and paused on the label, its body covering the R in Ralph Lauren. Hungry and thirsty, it could do nothing about the former, but the latter was no problem. From a gland in a protrusible mouth part, it secreted a tiny salt crystal that quickly absorbed water from the air. Drawing the salt droplet into its mouth, its thirst was satisfied. Turning, it moved toward the rear of the dresser and up the back panel into the dresser carcass, looking for a way out...
~~~

Louisiana Fever!
An Andy Broussard and Kit Franklin Mystery

By D. J. Donaldson

Serial Killers, Drug Lords, Pedophiles...are all very scary...But, you know, since I've moved into my cabin in the woods, Louisiana Fever turned out to be a horror thriller of the worst kind...it drove me Buggy! And with the strange weather we've been having this year, I've seen more different kinds of bugs than I've ever seen! Creepy, crawly, sneaky...they're everywhere! Including in this Novel!

And sometimes, they'll kill you just as easily as a bullet!

"She nudged the select button on the stereo, using the knuckle of her gloved hand, then pushed play, warming the cool room with the opening strains of The Magic Flute. 

“Delivery crew said he keeled over at Grandma O’s,” Minoux said. “That’s not gonna be good for business.” “He hadn’t had anything to eat, so I don’t think we can blame her,” Broussard replied, slipping a pair of booties over his mesh shoes. While Broussard donned his plastic apron, on which someone had long ago written THE BOSS with a permanent black marker, the two assistants each put on a mask and a plastic visor. Broussard added two pairs of rubber gloves to his meager outfit, walked over to the body, and reached for a Polaroid camera on a nearby bench. 

"Though he had seen thousands of cadavers, the tenuous nature of life had never ceased to fascinate him. A single puncture wound in the right place and it was gone. . . . Constrict the airway for a few minutes, it was gone—an irrevocable loss far too easy to achieve. And even when it happened without external intervention, as apparently this one had—a death by so-called natural causes—it seemed no less deplorable. 

D. J. Donaldson sure did make sure his readers realize it, because he personified the killer! Just wait until

you meet the killer! And one is after the local M.E. who must deal with the bodies that are arriving...

"D’Souza began dissecting the skin flaps off the chest, the flashing strokes of her scalpel quickly separating them from the underlying white connective tissue. She did the side flaps first, then moved to the upper one, her swift movements rapidly carrying her dissection to the arch of the mandible, where she draped the loosened skin over the face and cut through the muscles attached to the mandible, thereby entering the mouth. She freed the tongue and pulled it forward, her scalpel slashing at the restraining tissue, liberating the trachea and esophagus. 

"Broussard had finished sharpening the long knife he would use to section the organs and had begun arranging the perforated plastic sample containers on his cutting board at the shallow sink under the data blackboard when he heard D’Souza say, “Oh, shit.” Turning, he saw her tearing at the tape holding her gloves to her wrists. Obviously, she’d cut herself. She pulled off her gloves and Broussard saw that her left index finger was bleeding heavily. To a degree, that was good, as it would wash any potentially infectious organisms out of the wound. 

“How bad is it?” “Not deep enough to hit any tendons or need sewing up,” she replied behind her mask. 

“Good. Now get out of here and let it bleed under water for five minutes, then put some Betadine and peroxide on it. When you feel up to it, fill out an incident report.” Behind her visor, her eyes were filled with worry. “I’d like to hear that speech again about how unlikely it is to acquire a disease from something like this.” 

“First of all, sudden deaths like this one aren’t caused by infectious disease,” Broussard said. “It’s likely he had a coronary. And even if he did have somethin’ infectious, your chances of acquirin’ it are about like your chances of bein’ struck by lightnin’ today.” 

“Even if he’s HIV-positive?” 

“Even then.” 

“I feel better.” 

“But just to be on the safe side, we’re gonna have the lab check him out. And you’re gonna need to give some blood for a baseline. So, when I’m through here, you can take his samples up to the lab and let ’em draw yours. Now, go on . . . take care of your finger. . . .

~~~

One has already killed one of his assistants! She was helping with the autopsy when she accidentally cut herself...That's all it took, a little nick in her hand...Days later she was dead...

There was another female in Broussard's unit, one he was especially fond of--but he had a hard time sharing his feelings, even to the extent of praising her excellent work.

The John Doe who had just been brought in was in the company of Kit Franklin when he died. But she didn't know him! He had been sending her a flower each day and then asked to meet. She had agreed because the place where that would be was their favorite restaurant and everybody knew her there... He spoke her name and...died...

But time had lapsed since that incident when she was kidnapped! At least they assumed she had been kidnapped because her car was still at home and there was no sign of struggle. They were fairly certain that her disappearance had nothing to do with the man who had died...

And at that time, she didn't know he was actually murdered...Hey, if a bug can kill, then he's a murderer, right?

"After removing the tube, he cut through both sternoclavicular joints, then severed each rib through its cartilage attachment to the sternum, pleased that he didn’t encounter enough ossification to call for the saw. With that done, he was able to remove the breast plate, revealing the lungs, which cupped the heart in pinkish gray angelwings. 
"His scalpel stopped moving. He pressed on one lung with a forward motion to see more of it. Puzzled at what he saw, he did the same with the other lung. Both were studded with small hemorrhages. Very peculiar . . . 
"He cut the major vessels entering and leaving the heart, noting there was copious blood flow from them, something commonly seen in heart-attack victims. He removed the tongue, trachea, esophagus, lungs, and heart as a block and dropped them into a stainless pan as Guy Minoux stepped up to the table. 
“Take over, will you, while I work at the sink?” Minoux nodded and picked up the scalpel Broussard left for him. Broussard took his pan to the sink under the blackboard, poured the contents onto his cutting board, and began separating the organs, prior to close inspection of each one. He first examined the tongue, noting there was no indication the deceased had bitten it. With the long knife in one hand and the other pressing on the upper surface of the tongue, he halved it horizontally in the same way he’d slice a bagel. When he separated the two halves, he saw more tiny hemorrhages. This was becoming a major mystery, as the emerging pattern of affected organs fit nothing he’d ever seen...

~~~

The investigation to find Kit was ongoing but her fiancee got tired of just sitting around so he tried to find her, picking up a few clues...Enough to get him grabbed also!

Broussard had two of his staff to worry about now! And by then, other bodies were brought in and identified to have the same issue as the first...An expert was soon there, but he and Broussard soon were at odds!

“Are you going to bring in the CDC?” Seymour asked. 
"Blackledge shot him a cold look. “Hell no. What do I need them for? I trained the people they’d send.” Then to Broussard: “You’ve got slides on the two cases?”
 “Only on the John Doe. There hasn’t been time to process Baldwin’s tissues, but his organs were so deteriorated, they’re not likely to be of any use.” “What sort of pathology did you see in the John Doe?” “The most significant was early stages of disseminated intravascular coagulation.”...

But when Broussard lost to that killer, they were all glad that Dr. Blackledge was there...

Actually, although I showed a pic of a tick and identified the killer, there are many types of ticks and the fear and suspense comes from first identifying it was a tick, but then narrowing down what "kind" of tick it was, and then, determining whether there is some vaccine already available for that particular tick known...

There wasn't...

And Kit and Teddy have not yet been found...

This novel had me riveted from the first page on...Broussard is a fascinating main character that I fell in love with quickly. Kit being kidnapped put her in a different role, I would imagine, than normally, but she proved to be a gutsy lady and I look forward to getting to know both of these characters in more depth.

Danger lurks right outside my door... Is he there in the woods surrounding you like he is me? Is he one of the psycho killers of the species!???

Chillingly Good Read! But keep some bug spray handy while you're reading! Don't miss this one if you are a Forensics Thriller Fan! I "think" I'm going to have to add him to my "favorite author" list so I've added at least another of his books to my wish list...Will keep you posted...


GABixlerReviews

About the Author
D.J. Donaldson is a retired professor of anatomy and neurobiology. His entire academic career was spent at the University of Tennessee, Health Science Center, where he published dozens of papers on wound-healing and taught microscopic anatomy to thousands of medical and dental students. He is also the author of seven published forensic mysteries and five medical thrillers. He lives in Memphis, Tennessee, with his wife and two West Highland terriers. In the spring of most years, he simply cannot stop buying new flowers and other plants for the couple's prized backyard garden.