“Yes, but there’s more to it than that. There were several irregularities I noticed right off the bat. In the course of my preliminary examination of the body, I noticed a slight protrusion of the anterior fontanelle—”

“Doc, in English…”

“The soft spot on top of the head,” he says. “There was a slight bulge. So I had an MRI performed, and there was, indeed, a hemorrhage between the dura mater and the brain.”

“Is it possible it happened in the tornado? Doc, that mobile home was off its foundation and lying on its side. I found the baby beneath a playpen, but there was a sofa and television and a chair in the room. Any one of those things could have crushed that child.”

The pause that follows tells me he’s just realized I was a first responder. “Kate, normally under these circumstances I wouldn’t look twice at something like this. There’s no doubt that in the course of a violent storm the child had been tossed about inside her home. But the injuries I’ve described are not crushing injuries.” He sighs unhappily. “I also discovered retinal hemorrhage in both eyes. X-rays indicated two healed rib fractures.”

Terrible images flash in my mind’s eye. The sweet face of a helpless baby girl. A tiny body in my arms, warm against my breast. Darker, disturbing images of an adult, a temper run amok. At the same time, the guilt that had been pressing down on me since the moment I heard of her death transforms into a slow, seething outrage.

“Doc, are you telling me that child was abused?”

“I strongly suspect the injuries present—both new and old—were sustained at the hands of a caregiver hours or even weeks before the storm.”

I think of Nick and Paula Kester and I wonder how a young mother or father could do something so heinous to their own child. “My God, she was only four months old.”

He heaves a sigh. “Look, Kate, shaken baby syndrome is highly controversial, even within the medical community. In light of the circumstances of this infant’s death, and before I can rule on cause or manner of death, I need to bring in a forensic pathologist for a second opinion.”

Shaken baby syndrome. My God.

“Let me know the instant you get that second opinion,” I tell him.

“Count on it,” he says, and ends the call.

*   *   *

I leave the police station immediately after my conversation with Doc Coblentz. Our conversation follows me, his words taunting me with terrible possibilities.

… the injuries present—both new and old—were sustained at the hands of a caregiver hours or even weeks before the storm.

… shaken baby syndrome is highly controversial, even within the medical community.