Shock Treatment by Greg Cox Page A

hadn’t regained consciousness yet. If only the doctors here could have administered the antivenin sooner.
    â€œWell, you have my gratitude, young man.” Segura turned his worried eyes back to his wife. “I hope you’re not expecting to question Rita, though. I’m afraid she hasn’t spoken since . . .”
    He choked up, unable to complete the sentence.
    â€œI understand,” Ray said. In fact, Detective Vartann had declined to join the CSI on this call since Rita Segura was obviously in no condition to be interviewed just yet. “But I still need to examine her wound if you don’t mind.”
    Segura nodded, his gaze never leaving Rita. “Go ahead. Do what you have to do.”
    â€œThank you.” Ray went around to the other side of the bed. He drew a curtain around them to provide a little more privacy. According to her chart, Rita had been bitten on the throat so Ray gently undid the top of her hospital gown and pulled it down to expose the base of her neck. A gauze bandage had been applied to the wound. He gently peeled it back.
    A horseshoe pattern of tiny teeth marks confirmed that Rita had been attacked by a coral snake. A rattler or another pit viper, like copperheads and water moccasins, would have left two puncture marks instead. He was relieved to see minimal swelling around the site, which indicated that the antivenin and antibiotics were doing their job. The wounds had already scabbed over, but he hadn’t been planning to measure their depth anyway. Insteadhe took out a tape measurer and carefully recorded the bite radius. He then took multiple photos of the bite, placing a paper ruler against the unconscious woman’s throat for scale. The flash of the camera did not rouse her.
    â€œWhat are you doing that for?” Segura asked. His tone was not confrontational, merely concerned.
    â€œWe need to identify the snake that bit her,” Ray explained. “Measuring the distance between the bite marks may help us do that.”
    â€œI see.” Segura averted his eyes from the ugly wound. “Dammit, I always knew that snake thing was a bad idea. I tried to talk her out of it.” Revulsion twisted his face. “Disgusting creatures!”
    â€œYou don’t like snakes?” Ray asked.
    Segura snorted. “Who does?” His expression softened as he watched over his wife. “But she seemed to enjoy it and I could never say no to her.” His voice grew hoarse with emotion. A handkerchief dabbed at his eyes. “It’s not right, I tell you. She’s so young, not like me. I’m not supposed to outlive her.”
    His grief struck Ray as genuine, but he couldn’t help noticing the extreme disparity in age between the elderly man and Rita Segura, who was still in her late twenties. The term “trophy wife” came to mind, somewhat uncharitably. Was it possible there were marital problems at play here, perhaps another man? The victim’s spouse was always a prime suspect in any possible homicide or attempted homicide. Too many dissatisfied husbands and wives, Ray had discovered, came to consider “until death do you part” an escape hatch instead of a vow. It was enough to make one think twice about matrimony.
    Maybe that’s why so few CSIs take the plunge, he thought. Aside from Grissom and Sara, of course.
    He replaced the bandage and pulled Rita’s hospital gown back up. He walked around the bed to join Segura. Although Rita could not be interviewed yet, there was still her husband. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”
    â€œNo,” Segura answered. “What do you need to know?”
    Ray pulled up a chair. “Can you think of anyone who might want to harm your wife?”
    â€œI know exactly who is responsible for this nightmare,” Segura spat. Anger infused his voice, showing a harder side to the distraught old man. “The filthy animal she sent to